#thread: holly & snow.

[daenerysmacfarlane]

Wonderful Christmastime - Rupert Campbell-Black

Rupert Campbell-Black x fem Reader 18+

Authors Note: You know the brainrot is real when you write smutty fanfic for the first time in fucking forever. Annyywayyyy... enjoy. Smut warning, Helen Macaulay warning. Spoilers for Jilly Cooper's Riders and Rivals. I don't own Marcus, Tabitha, Rupert, Helen or Malise. Characters belong to Jilly Cooper. First time publishing my writing on Tumblr so please be kind :)

One couldn't really say that not a creature was stirring on the night before Christmas at Penscombe Court. Rupert's horses were frolicking in the snow earlier and probably still are. The pups are running around like crazy having just been washed except for Beaver, the black Labrador, who is sniffing the presents under the tree to see if there's any treats wrapped up for him.

I hum along to Frank Sinatra on the radio as I place the final touches of the Christmas decorations in Penscombe's massive foyer. I hear Rupert chuckle as I struggle to reach the last shelf and place a piece of holly and ribbon.

"What on earth are you doing?"

"Help me, I'm short." I smile looking back at him.

Lo and behold, Rupert is standing there in a Santa suit but bare chested with a very wolfish grin on his face. He sighs and helps me put the decoration on the shelf. He pulls me into his arms.

"It looks incredible my love. Very well done."

I hum and look around. "Yes the back pain tomorrow will be very much worth it"

The foyer sparkled, especially after all the new renovations. It had been a banner year for Rupert and for Venturer. Not only had we married but Venturer had retained its franchise license and signed a new multi-year contract, the first in its kind unless you're the BBC.

After getting rid of Helen's godawful decor, the Georgian Penscombe looks as it should. Classic and regal. Mahogany wood and forest green walls accompanies the Cotswold stone floors, the Christmas tree lights gleaming off them, with a red runner carpet just to give a little bit of grip. I couldn't wait to see the look on Haughty Helly's face, as Rupert and I call her. She's pompous and spoilt with the most ridiculous taste.

Rupert's hands pull me out of my thoughts, roaming my body before slipping under the waistband of my pants. I gently place mine over his and he immediately stops. Rupert's lovely face begins to pout.

"As lovely as that would be, Tab and Marcus are going to be here soon." I chide. As per the new rules in the divorce agreement, Rupert and Helen alternate years for Christmas and this year they would be spending it with us. The last thing my stepchildren need is the sight of their father getting naughty and naked, under the Christmas tree.

He nuzzles my neck and presses gentle kisses. My resolve slowly crumbles and I turn in his arms. My hands run down his sculptured chest and I kiss him, passionately. He looks up and I follow his eyes to the mistletoe I hung up two hours ago. He begins to back me up against the wall next to it and slowly makes his way down my body, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake until he is eye line with the zip of my pants. Undoing the button, he slowly unzips me and pulls them and my underwear down. He groans at how wet I am, the wetness betraying my noble thoughts to be good in case we're caught. Hooking my leg over his shoulder, he begins to eat me out like a man starved. It feels like he's been there for ages and I gasp and moan as his incredibly talented tongue makes patterns on the little bundle of nerves. Just the feeling of that brings me close to the sweet release and Rupert smirks as he reads my body and reaction.

I thread my fingers in his dark hair and growl, "Pull away and you'll be having a very blue Christmas."

He moans in response and the vibrations tip me over the edge, body shaking out my release. He makes his way up my body taking my shirt off in the process. His face lights up when he doesn't see a bra.

"Oh Mrs Campbell-Black! How naughty..."

"That's not what you said last night, Rupe." I unbutton the Santa pants and push them down, finding him sans boxer briefs, intimidatingly large and standing at attention.

He picks me up by my thighs and instantly slides into me. We both moan as he sinks into me and I feel that oh, so familiar stretch, wrapping my legs around his waist.

"Christ I'll never get over the feel of you, my love." He mutters earnestly and begins to roll his hips in the most delicious way possible.

I grip on to the back of his coat as his lips come crashing down on mine, hips still rolling as if he was cantering across the field. My fingers grip harder and harder as the familiar pressure builds and my muscles clench around him.

"Fuck, do that again and I'm not going to last." His hips stutter for a moment before falling back into rhythm.

Moans and the sound of skin on skin ricochet around the foyer. He slips a hand between my legs and rubs my little nerve while increasing his pace, fucking me senseless. The pressure builds and builds until I tumble over into bliss. With a great thrust, Rupert follows suit. We hold each other and catch our breath. He kisses me deeply and gently bites my bottom lip.

"Merry Christmas Mrs Campbell-Black." He smirks.

"Merry Christmas Mr Campbell-Black. Thank you for that wonderful gift." I smile.

"I always try to give you exactly what you want."

"This year I want a corgi."

Just as he's about to respond, the sound of tires on the gravel outside filters in. We look at each other.

Rupert scoffs, "Talk about timing. Oh fuck and she's early too."

We both rush to make ourselves presentable for Helen and the kids and make it just in time, Tabitha barreling in. She looks around with her mouth agape.

"Wow who did the tree?" She asks.

I smile at my dear stepdaughter. "I did, do you approve Ms Tab?"

"Yeah looks way better than Mummy and Malise's." She nods and giggles.

"Looks like she got her fine tastes from me. I always knew she was well and truly mine." Rupert snorts.

We hear a familiar shake of an asthma puffer and Marcus joins his sister in admiring the tree and decorations. Rupert's ex-wife, Helen and her new husband, Malise Gordon, who was Rupert's chef d'equipe when he rode for Team Great Britain, follow closely behind. Helen looks around at the changes we've made, replacing everything trace of her and the lands on our disheveled appearance. Her face sets hard, looking like she's almost popping a blood vessel.

"The renovations look lovely. So do the decorations." Malise smiles.

"Thank you, Malise." I return the smile.

"Looks a bit dark and gothic, quite primitive actually if you ask me." Helen sneers.

"All wifey's wonderful choices. Sets the tone perfectly for a nasty, hard and hot fuck not that Penscombe's last decorator knew what that was." Rupert retorts and his hand slides from my back to rest on my behind. He gives a gentle squeeze.

Helen is seething and Malise takes her arm to lead her outside, saying goodbye to the children at the same time to not ruin their Christmas with Rupert. Tabitha sighs at the sight of her mother.

"Poor Malise. Mummy's going to lose her shit in the car."

Marcus takes his puffer. "Bad words, Tab."

"Oh shush, now which one of these gifts has my pony in it?" She says as she picks up the gift neatly labeled Tabitha.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

One Poem a Day: December

"beautiful" words related to December for your next poem/story

December - 12th month of the Gregorian calendar. Its name is derived from decem, Latin for “ten,” indicating its position in the early Roman calendar.

Alabasterine - pertaining to the compact fine-textured usually white and translucent gypsum often carved into vases and ornaments

Caducity - senility; the quality of being transitory or perishable

Clementine - a small nearly seedless citrus fruit that is probably a hybrid between a tangerine and an orange

Complaisance - disposition to please or comply; affability

Diaphanous - characterized by extreme delicacy of form; ethereal

Ecru - a pale or light grayish yellow or brown; beige

Eggnog - a drink consisting of eggs beaten with sugar, milk or cream, and often alcoholic liquor

Etiolate - to make pale

Exsanguination - the action or process of draining or losing blood

Frisson - a brief moment of emotional excitement; shudder, thrill

Frore - frosty, frozen

Graupel - granular snow pellets

Holly - any of a genus (Ilex) of trees and shrubs especially: either of two (I. opaca and I. aquifolium) with spiny-margined evergreen leaves and usually red berries often used for Christmas decorations

Imparadise - to make supremely happy, transport with delight or joy

Lambent - playing lightly on or over a surface; flickering; softly bright or radiant

Morpheus - the Greek god of dreams

Nacreous - possessing the qualities of, consisting of, or abounding in nacre, also: iridescent

Nascence - birth, origin

Névé - the partially compacted granular snow that forms the surface part of the upper end of a glacier

Overwinter - to last through or pass the winter

Paperwhite - a polyanthus narcissus bearing clusters of small very fragrant pure white flowers

Parturition - the action or process of giving birth to offspring; childbirth

Passementerie - an ornamental edging or trimming (such as tassels) made of braid, cord, gimp, beading, or metallic thread

Pellucid - reflecting light evenly from all surfaces

Purfle - to ornament the border or edges of

Sublunary - of, relating to, or characteristic of the terrestrial world

Sylph - an elemental being in the theory of Paracelsus that inhabits air

Tanzanite - a mineral that is a deep blue variety of zoisite and is used as a gemstone

Turquoise - a mineral that is a blue, bluish-green, or greenish-gray hydrous basic phosphate of copper and aluminum, takes a high polish, and is valued as a gem when sky blue

Umbral - of little or no light

Zircon - a tetragonal mineral consisting of a silicate of zirconium and occurring usually in brown or grayish square prisms of adamantine luster or sometimes in transparent forms which are used as gems

Sources: 1 2 3 ⚜ More: Word Lists ⚜ Writing Prompts

[queenie-ofthe-void]

A Desperate Fool - Part 4

Part 3

Eddie gets settled on his usual kitchen barstool and watches Nancy make a pot of coffee, which is great considering he showed up at the ass crack of dawn, too anxious to wait. Well, and a day early, but sue him, he missed her. 

Nancy and Jonathan’s house is just as cozy as he remembers, while also serving as a solid reminder he’s not the only successful Wheeler. Original hardwood floors complimented with arched entryways and wainscoting. Cream and sage fill the living space, dotted with drops of gold accents. Low, soft lighting illuminates every room with warmth. It’s clean and modern, yet comforting in a way The Harrington’s eggshell minimalism estate and his own dark industrial penthouse have always lacked. 

It’s quiet and domestic and everything he’s missed about having a home. The glow in his chest doesn’t outweigh the thread of tension thrumming through him, but it does ease slightly when she hands him coffee in his favorite Garfield mug.

They catch up for hours as she fills him in on everything he’s missed. Mom and Ted finally retired down to Clearwater after Holly moved out for college. Mike and Will’s adoption went through, after working on it for years– and jesus christ, he’s an uncle now. Will’s still publishing his YA fantasy graphic novels. Mike’s a happy house-husband now stay at home dad. 

El finally quit her shitty government research job and decided she’d rather work full-time at Argyle’s pizza shop learning the ins and outs of the business. She’s better suited for it, he thinks, she’s always loved being around people and working with her hands.

She tells him about her and Jon settling into their new posts at The Chicago Times. Nancy’s managed to make friends with people outside of the Politics department. Jon’s moved from photographing for tabloids to local events like concerts and festivals, currently out of town for the weekend at a festival in Rockford. She says he’s happier now, with a job more his speed, and Eddie has to agree. Although they apparently just missed each other last fall when he’d started the job only a month after Corroded Coffin’s concert at Wrigley.

As Nancy goes on, talking about the rest of the kids while they lounge around the house, moving from the kitchen, to the living room, to the snow covered balcony so he can smoke, he tries to listen– he does. But he’s close to snapping, forced to wait so long for answers. He needs to know everything that’s happened, and why she’s the one who has to tell him. Her and Steve dated in high-school almost ten years ago, and granted they stayed close, but she’s not Robin or Max. She’s one of the few people Eddie’s closest to, except for Dustin, who could easily give him more answers than Nancy probably could.

He’s spiralling. He’s biting his nails, picking his lips raw. His leg is bouncing erratically and the only thing that helps is pacing whatever room they’re in. Nancy’s still talking about Argyle’s newest pizza recipe when he finally breaks.

“Nancy, for fuck’s sake please just tell me what’s going on with Steve.” He reaches down for his smokes but his hand’s shaking, the pack gets caught on his pocket and falls to the ground. When he bends to pick them up, the lighter follows suit and bounces under the couch Nancy’s perched on. 

A manic laugh bubbles from the pit of his stomach as he drops to his knees. Eddie briefly wonders if he even wants answers or if he’s just punishing himself. He bends forward, letting his forehead rest against the hardwood floor, cool and grounding. 

Grabbing the smokes and lighter, he looks up to find Nancy’s eyebrows and nose all scrunched up, lips pursed. She’s looking at him exactly how he knew she would, full of pity and disappointment.

There’s something underneath the expression though that Eddie can’t quite pick out– anxiety, maybe. He wouldn’t have such a hard time reading her if he hadn’t been gone for almost a year. Another reminder added to the long list of his life-altering mistakes.

Eddie stands on unsteady legs, moving to the balcony for another smoke, with Nancy hot on his heels when there’s a knock on the front door. She shoots him an apologetic look, but he waves her off. He’s waited this long for answers, what’s another minute in misery.

When Eddie’s finished his smoke, he does his best to sneak back inside without being noticed. An unfamiliar voice calls him out.

“Oh, Nancy I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you had company!”

Eddie pokes his head around the corner to find Nancy standing next to a petite woman with dirty brown hair and thick platinum highlights, who’s dressed in an uncoordinated riot of colors and textures. Knee-high navy blue socks, tucked into tan polka dot flats, end just below the hem of her corduroy skirt. It’s a deep brown, matching the polka dots on her shoes, and the material’s so stiff it moves around her like a hoop skirt. She’s layered a puffy-sleeved periwinkle button up underneath a teal sweater vest.

It’s an odd assortment of colors, patterns, and textures that’s not quite artistic enough to be considered eclectic or interesting. Just bizarre and– if he’s being bitchy about it– a little boring. Eddie’s worn enough dramatic getups in his life, but beige isn’t doing this girl any favors.

The petite woman is blushing, eyebrow cocked in question, and Eddie realizes she’s been holding out her hand to him in greeting while he’s standing her silently judging her, like an asshole.

“Hi, you must be Nancy’s brother Eddie,” she says. Her voice is a light soprano, tonally off in an overly polite, customer service way. “I’m Becky.”

“Nice to meet you.” He finally manages to shake her hand, noticing they’re both wearing rings on each finger topped with chipped nail polish: his black and hers a sparkly baby blue. But while his rings are chunky and silver, hers are delicate gold bands stacked to varying thicknesses. “Umm how do you know Nance?”

“Oh, we met at work,” Becky says, smile widening. “Nancy’s told me all about you.”

“Hopefully just the good stuff.” Eddie tries for a joke, but her eyes tighten for the briefest moment.

“Yeah, she told me you were going to be back in town for a little while, I just thought you were coming tomorrow, otherwise I wouldn’t have bothered you.” She glances toward Nancy, her smile straining further.

“No it’s alright, Nance and I were just catching up.” Nancy’s shuffling her feet, eyes darting between Becky, the floor, then Eddie, and back again. Becky is staring at her too, and Eddie’s not sure he’s ever seen Nancy this anxious. She looks completely checked out of the conversation.

He’s always suspected she’s been a bit embarrassed by him. Throughout school, he was the loud obnoxious troublemaker, and Nancy the wholesome straight A student. Every new school year, Nancy spent the first few weeks convincing her teachers that no, she’s not like her brother at all, thank you. Eddie played it off when he could, and has most of his life. But to see it now, so plainly written on her face, hurts more than he expected.

“She said you’re in a rock band?” Becky asks, attempting to fill the silence left in the wake of Nancy’s awkwardness. “Very glamorous.”

It sounds slightly sarcastic, but Eddie’s not sure if he’s just feeling overly defensive. “Playing and songwriting are by far the best part. The rest is just missing out on what’s waiting at home.”

“Mmm, so that’s why you’re in town then? Missing Chicago?” She seems genuinely sympathetic, but he can’t help puffing up like an angry cat at the drip of pity hanging from her lips.

“More like the people,” Eddie snaps. He takes a deep breath to steady himself. God forbid he has a panic attack in front of the first person Nancy introduces him to when he comes home. He’d really be living up to the nightmare older brother stereotype Nancy’s dealt with her entire life.

“Well then,” Nancy interrupts, clapping her hands together loudly causing both Becky and Eddie to flinch. “Thanks for dropping off my laptop, Becky, I really appreciate it.”

“Umm, no problem, Nance.” Becky eyes her warily, but takes the cue. She turns to Eddie to say their goodbyes as Nancy sees her out.

He heads towards the kitchen to get dinner started for the two of them. It’s almost ten minutes by the time Nancy makes her way back and her entire demeanor’s changed. Her spine’s straight with shoulders back, head held high, eyes steeled with resolve. A classic Nancy Wheeler I’m going to tackle this problem head on attitude, except it’s directed at him. Which is seriously not great.

But instead of saying anything, she pulls out the same kitchen stool Eddie had been perched on earlier and plops herself down, all without breaking eye contact. He assumes she’s got something to say, he can spot a Nancy lecture coming a mile away.

Once again, anxiety’s filling out space in his chest as he finishes cooking. They sit in relative silence on the living room couch while they eat, and all he can do is wait. Eddie wants to hear what she has to say, he wants answers, but he’s dreading it all the same. She’s upset with him, which he can’t hold against her. He deserves all of his family’s rage. That doesn’t mean he’s necessarily looking forward to it.

“Ok, ask me,” she states, setting the empty bowl down on the coffee table, turning fully face him. Leaning against the the armrest, she pulls one knee up to her chest while sticking her other foot right in Eddie’s lap. He matches her position, grabbing her ankle and plopping his own foot down beside her, hoping the small amount of contact will keep him grounded.

“Ask you, what?”

“Don’t play dumb, Eddie,” she says, “the entire reason you’re in Chicago isn’t to catch up with Jonathan or Mike or me.” Nancy’s chest deflates with a sigh, and Eddie’s heart breaks at the fact that she’s right. He hates himself for it, one more way he’s disappointed her. “He’s completely offline, the kids don’t post about him even though half of them have you blocked anyways. I know you probably did as much digging as you could and even though you hired a fucking private investigator– jesus christ Eddie–”

“That was only to find out where he lived, I swear.”

She scoffs, “Like that makes it any better.”

“I know, I know,” he sighs, lifting one hand from her ankle to rub his eyes. “I’m sorry, keep going. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“It’s ok,” she says, squeezing his leg. The small gesture loosens some of the building tension, and he relaxes his shoulders.

“The point is, you probably don’t know anything about what’s happened with over the thirteen months you’ve been gone. But, I just thought, if you’re going around looking for answers, it’s probably best for everyone if they come from me.”

She looks away from him then to stare out the window next to them, and Eddie can’t help but follow her gaze. The sun has long since set, the only light coming from the end table lamps on either side of them, and the street light across the way. Dark winter nights always left Eddie feeling a little hollow, a chill even the warmest blankets couldn’t chase away. A feeling only Steve could ease out of him. 

When he looks back at Nancy, she’s already looking back like she can read his mind. Except she’s chewing on her bottom lip, and when he meets her eyes, she can’t hold his gaze.

“Nance,” he says, confused at the sinking of his stomach, “why is it best if it comes from you? No offense, but you’re not necessarily as close to him as Max or Lucas, and they seemed pretty clammed up when they came around. Especially when they mentioned the fiance.” Eddie chokes around the word. Swallows around the dry bitterness coating his throat.

She squeezes his ankle again, except this time it’s too tight, her nails digging little moons into his skin. Like whatever she has to say will send him running, because everyone knows he’s a coward, will disappear exactly the same as before. It’s how he knows he’s still the same person as before– undeserving of the people he loves most– when her next words send a small shock through his system.

“Because I’m the one who set them up, Eddie. And I’m not sorry.”

~~~

Part 5

Tag List: @5ammi90

[emptytcwn]

“   well, if you told me you were opposed i'd be concerned you were recently concussed. no wise person would ever want to turn down an offer like that. you better not lose it if i give it to you. i don't need some insane axe murderer picking up a key to my place.   ”

“   i   mean   ,   why   not   ?   i   wouldn’t   be   opposed   to   that   .   i   wouldn’t   have   to   beg   out   in   the   cold   for   you   to   let   me   in   anymore   .   ”

[indelen]

This is me finally reaching the end of The Screaming Staircase in the great Lockwood and Co reread organized by @blue-boxes-magic-and-tea, I usually make a general summary of several chapters and then post bits and pieces that jumped out at me, but honestly, I don't have much to say here except that with some hindsight I'm amazed how much seeds of the further plots are laid down here in very subtle ways. Sometimes just a line or two.

Part V: Chapters 25-26

Again that seed of doubt, possibly spurred on my poor Annie Ward and her controlling relationship. This is the first of many times Lucy will be frustrated at Lockwood hiding things, doing things behind her back and in secret. From the beginning Lucy and Lockwood’s main conflict, which comes to a head in the 3rd book, is inevitable. Holly was just the final straw, the last symptom of a prolonged illness. If she didn’t come along some other argument would have boiled over to the same end.

See kids, this is why you don’t help work for cops.

The fascinating thing about Kipps is that he is, at the start of the book, in the highest possible position and has the best possible future of any kid who enters the agency system.

On paper.

On paper he survived being an agent, was recognized for his Talent and promoted, he was deemed valuable enough to be retained at Fittes as a supervisor after his Talent faded and his team is productive enough to be contracted out to DEPRAC. If it’s all written as a CV it looks quite impressive. But in reality all it really means is that Kipps has two sets of people treating him like garbage and barking orders at him. He answers to two sets of higher ups who could not care less if he and anyone in his charge lives or dies. And this is all dressed up as quite the honor, so Kipps doesn't really realize just how powerless, overworked and run into the ground he is.

Not yet.

Babies! Absolute children.

I get why they were aged up for the show but it was a bit jarring to see Cameron Chapman grab a beer from the fridge because in the book these are very clearly kids for whom the height of hedonism is binging on junk food Kevin McCallister style.

George is genuinely amazing because when did he manage to squirrel these away and how? But also, what I think is fascinating is that George asks Lucy’s opinion on something quite sincerely here, as one would a colleague. And Lucy … gives him a correct answer, she recognizes the sign! Because here’s the thing, Lucy was deprived of an education sure, but she’s not dumb. And as we later learn she’s quite artistic, she likes to draw. And if you’ve ever flipped through even one art book you would know how a Greek lyre looks like, even if you don’t know its exact name and meaning. And that is precisely the type of knowledge that Lockwood and Geroge would not have.

“Some flowers bloom

Where the green grass grows

Our praise is not for them

But the ones who bloom in the bitter snow

We raise our cups to them

We raise our cups and drink them up”

Gods give me strength, I will get to the symbolism of Stroud picking specifically the mythological Orpheus for this plotline of the book and how it relates to Lockwood … eventually.

I think from the start Lockwood kinda hopes that Lucy can talk to Type 3s. This matches with his attitude at the interview. I think he’s both terrified of Lucy’s ability to communicate and be so close emotionally and physically with ghosts (because of his own past) and sort of completely taken in and fascinated by it. It’s both similar and completely alien to what he can do. It would explain why he is always a bit aloof with her but always 100% has faith in her talents and is always by her side. It also explains why he doesn't process his feelings about her until much, much later.

Now girl, that’s not the way to talk about your future boyfriend.

Yes it was disappointing to see Skull on screen without his sass and much more of a spook jar but at the same time i can’t imagine how to thread this sort of needle in a live action adaptation. At the very least the more expressive, book loyal Skull would have cost a fortune to render with CGI. But I do miss him. Little gremlin shit disturber (affectionate).

I love this ending because it shows Lockwood and George, at last, as kids. Just two 14 year old boys laughing at the height of 14 year old boy humor - a rude story about nudity (I'm assuming the cut-happy US editor left the words as is and this is the UK “pants” which is actually “underpants” but please correct me someone with unexpurgated version if that is not the case).

Death in Life and Life in Death.

And Lucy chooses to go to them rather than stay with Skull. From cold into warmth, from darkness into light, from amongst death towards the living. The end of the series is already given to us, if we squint.

Final Lockwood smile count: 12!

Will Lucy beat her own record in The Whispering Skull? Stay tuned to find out!

[harvardfineartslib]

We had fun brainstorming for National Walking Day post yesterday, so here’s another one about walking. But we’re seeing some snow showers today here in Cambridge. Not a good day for walking. We can’t wait for the spring to arrive!

Francis Alÿs (b. 1959) is a Belgian-born, Mexico-based artist who creates a diverse body of artwork spanning from performance, social practice, video, and paintings. And walking has been an important element in his work throughout his career.

In 1991, Alÿs dragged a small magnetic toy dog on wheels throughout the streets of Mexico City to collect any metallic residue lying in its path (“The Collector”). In 1995, he took a walk after unravelling the sweater he has on, leaving an ever-lengthening, blue-thread trail in his wake. (“Fairy Tales”).

This small publication is a record of a unique series that has been described as a storyboard or archive of Alÿs’ oeuvre, polyptych of 111 paintings called le temps du sommeil. The intriguing images are paired with the words, or instructions, behind his past and future performances.

Le temps du sommeil Francis Alÿs ; catalogue editor, Catherine Lampert. Dublin : Irish Museum of Modern Art ; Milano : Charta, [2010] English HOLLIS number: 990123544680203941

[celedyn]

All I Want For Winter Veil 2024

<<Bells, Bows, Gifts, Trees by Todrick Hall>>

The lights rise on the stage to a bare fir tree surrounded by an absolute abundance of boxes, each of them neatly labeled with all the accoutrements one could possibly need for a perfectly picturesque Winter’s Veil.

Celedyn struts onto the stage, shopping bags in tow, wearing a voluminous gown of holly green taffeta beneath a matching bodice sculpted to the perfect likeness of his own bare chest, sleeveless to leave his neckline unadorned save a classic string of pearls.

Celedyn sets the bags down and gives a twirl, dress lifting enough for just a peek of gold tulle before he leaps to land seated on a box. He blows a kiss to the audience, mindful to not stamp ruby lipstick on the pristine ivory of his gloves.

Celedyn uses another box as a desk, withdrawing a sheet of parchment titled ‘To Greatfather Winter.’ The page is already filled with line after line in teenty tinty print, and he adds a second and third behind it, tucking them into an envelope.

Celedyn puts that bit of mail aside and starts on the next, plucking up a holiday card to sign. The front shows Celedyn, gift wrapped in nothing more than ribbons and bows. He seals the envelope with a kiss, and flings it out into the crowd.

Celedyn kicks up his heels, hopping back to the floor. From a box he withdraws a sprig of mistletoe… then tosses it away, reaching deeper. He pulls out an entire mistletoe garland, dragging it across the floor to hang above the front of the stage.

Celedyn admires his work, then looks over his shoulder, giving a playful wiggle of his hips. Next, he grabs a pair of Winter’s Veil crackers, crossing his arms and offering the ends to Cerala before giving a pull with a loud pop and spill of glitter.

Celedyn withdraws a toy ring from his own cracker, tucking it onto his gloved finger, pretending to admire it before placing the paper crown atop his platinum hair. He offers a few indulgent poses to the audience before turning his attention to the tree.

Celedyn takes the crown from his head and stands up on his very tip toes, one foot lifted daintily as he slips the crown atop the tree. That’s certainly not enough. The high elf trots over to a large box labeled ORNAMENTS, shoving it across the stage.

Celedyn hangs trinket after trinket, a marvelous mis-matched collection that speaks to a life well lived and a world well traveled, a twinkling display curated from every corner of Azeroth is so many shapes and colors that it’s almost overwhelming.

Celedyn glides over to the place he set his shopping bags and starts withdrawing wrapping supplies. Brightly colored paper, ribbon, gleaming scissors, several rolls of tape, an assortment of bows, tags, glitter, and other little bits of decor.

Celedyn laughs and sweeps it all right back into a box. He reaches into his shopping bag and of COURSE the high elf paid the fee to have it all gift wrapped at the shop. He sets the presents one by one around the tree, arranging them just-so.

Suddenly Gertrude bounds onto the stage, perfectly decked in a pair of plaid pajamas and dragging an elf-sized set in her mouth. Rushed, Celedyn buttons the top right over his gown and scoops her up as he smiles for a S.E.F.I.E.

Celedyn sets the pup down and divides a bowl of popcorn, giving half to Gertrude before he starts threading popped kernels onto a string. He tries to speed things along, stabbing the needle haphazardly into the bowl to string several at once.

Celedyn sighs and pulls out a glass with a layer of frozen cranberries and sprig of rosemary for a miniature winter scene. He tops it with champagne, admiring the way the bubbles create a perfect snow globe cocktail… until the ice dislodges and floats up.

Celedyn flicks the festive little island from his drink and downs it in one pull as he crosses the stage, dragging the popcorn train to add it and a few he previously made to the tree.

Celedyn gets part way through, then simply decides it’s too much, and lugs the tree against a wall. He stares haggardly a moment… then pushes it into a corner, so he only has to decorate a single visible face.

Celedyn dusts off his gloves and moves on to unwind with a bit of fun with the gingerbread house. He pipes dollops of frosting and gets three whole candies pressed to the roof before it collapses under the unreliable structural integrity of moist sugar.

Celedyn gives a withering glare to the gingerbread ruin and sweeps the mess into a nearby box. His eyes shoot wide as he realizes what he has done, reaching in to pull his and Gertrude’s stockings from the box, shaking the frosted crumbs off.

Celedyn holds up the stockings, one peppermint still clinging to them as he looks for a place to hang them, just wanting his hands free. With a huff he drapes them over a tree branch; absentmindedly wiping the residual frosting on his gown.

<<Ringtone by Nokia>>

Celedyn startles as he hears the chiming sound. The high elf reaches into his pocket (of course his gown has pockets) and withdraws his comm, pressing the text-to-speech button.

ㆍHey Celedyn! I wanted to invite you to a chill little Winter’s Veil hangout next weekㆍ

ㆍWe’re not doing anything major, we’re keeping it all low key. Everyone’s just bringing three types of cookies to swap.ㆍ

Celedyn sighs and lets his shoulders slump defeatedly. He lifts his comm to check his schedule, only to find the message continuing on.

ㆍThen after that we’re going to make hot cocoa bombs and then go out to that hill near my place for sledding, then on the way back we’re going to circle the neighborhood for a round of caroling and then my boyfriend is going to have his cart-ㆍ

Celedyn stares at the comm like it is his greatest betrayer, slowly, ever so slowly sinking to his knees as his dress pools around him, lost in a sea of taffeta and tulle.

ㆍall done up like Father Winter’s sleigh, so we’re going to take that to the tree farm, you know the one where they let you cut the tree down by yourself with rudimentary tools and no supervision whatsoever?ㆍ

ㆍOh! And make sure you bring ice skates because they ha—!ㆍ

Celedyn slaps the comm shut and flops back, utterly vanishing from sight as he lets his arm fall. There is nothing, and one almost wonders if the performance has ended and a stagehand will come to sweep him offstage like a luxurious pile of dust.

<<SWEATPANTS by Alaska Thunderfuck>>

Celedyn rises like an abomination from its slab, sitting up to stare dead eyed out at the crowd. His shimmered lips move, matching to the lyrics of the song.

“I don’t wanna party…”

“I don’t wanna dance…”

“I just wanna stay at home…”

“In sweatpants.”

Celedyn slowly, steadily, exhaustedly draws himself to his feet. His eyes wander over the decor strewn about the stage. Audacious. Garish. Harrowing.

Celedyn touches a gloved hand to his face, only to discover the remnants of frosting on the fingers, then looks down to see the smudge on his gown. Betrayal.

Celedyn gazes into the distance as he peels the gloves off, dropping them. He removes his heavy chandelier earrings, basking in the ecstasy of discarded weight. He starts forward, but trips on his gown. The heels are next to go, tossed carelessly upstage.

Celedyn furrows his brow as bare feet step forward, focused on a figure in the audience, his face is a mixture of emotions. Confusion. Tentativeness. Intrigue. Perhaps even… hope? His hands lift, touching his pearls as he considers the possibility…

“SWEATPANTS!”

Celedyn grips his bodice and gives a great pull, tearing the garment open. As the taffeta sags to the floor in a dejected heap, he is born fresh, bare chested, wearing an unassuming pair of heather grey sweatpants slung low and relaxed on his hips.

Celedyn turns his back to the audience and bends over, the unrestrictive, stretchy fabric showing off every comfortable curve of his ass as he casts a sultry look from behind his knee, running his hands up his long, exceptionally cozy leg as he stands.

Celedyn whips around and drops to his knees, enjoying the adequate fleece padding as he crawls forward, his eyes affixed on Fiorenze. His thighs spread as he kneels, raking his nails over sturdy, reliable cloth, then up his chest, into his hair.

Celedyn winks, then kicks a leg up and over to stand once more, giving a flirty little shake of his rear before trotting to the pile of presents.

Celedyn grabs a gift from the pile, tossing it to Fiorenze, but that most certainly isn’t all! The high elf starts tossing box after box into the crowd!

As the gifts are unwrapped, what to their wandering fingers should appear? Sweatpants, obviously! Pink with glittered kisses, green with pugs in winter hats, murlocs frolicking in cocktail glasses, Greatfather winter with a very generous… present.

Somehow, each end every pair is perfectly sized to their recipient. After tossing the last package, Celedyn snatches up the tree skirt and sweeps it up over his head, draping himself in plush velvet as Gertrude prances back onto the stage.

Celedyn scoops the little pug up, tucking her into his arm. He retrieves his champagne bottle, taking a swig directly from it, blows a kiss to the crowd, and shuffles cozily off.

@fio-renze

[zvmz]

What EAH characters top 3 favorite movies would be according to me

Raven- The Princess Bride, The Village, 10 things I hate about you

Apple- Disney’s Snow White, Enchanted, The Princess Diaries

Briar- Mean Girls, Pitch Perfect, Clueless

Ashlynn- My Neighbor Totoro, Little Women, Moonrise Kingdom

Maddie- The Lego Batman Movie, Shrek 2, Ratatouille 

Cedar- Fantastic Mr Fox, Dead Poets Society, The Truman Show

Cerise- The Maze Runner, Inception, The Batman

Hunter- How to Train your Dragon, Wall-e, Good Will Hunting

Dexter- Revenge of the Sith, Monty Python and the quest for the holy grail, The perks of being a wallflower

Daring- Top Gun, Rocky, A Knights Tale

Darling- The Hunger Games, Oceans 8, Across the Spiderverse

Lizzie- The Devil Wears Prada, Cruella, Spencer

Kitty- Goodfellas, Donnie Darko, Coraline

Blondie- Legally Blonde, The Social Network, Elvis

Cupid- In The Mood For Love, Before Sunrise, Pride and Prejudice

Faybelle- Perfect Blue, Gone Girl, Jennifers Body

Melody- Baby Driver, Guardians of the Galaxy, Sucker Punch

Duchess- Black Swan (obvi), I Tonya, Phantom Thread

Sparrow- Whiplash, Fight Club, Se7en

Holly- The Notebook, Emma, The Titanic

Poppy- Moonlight, Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind, Your Name

Alistair- Knives Out, (500) Days of Summer, Clue

Bunny- Lilo & Stitch, Enola Holmes, The Parent Trap

Ramona- Who Framed Roger Rabbit?, Scott Pilgrim vs The World, The Breakfast Club

Justine- Before Sunrise, Lost In Translation, Juno

Rosabella- Dead Poets Society, The French Dispatch, Spencer

Ginger- Encanto, Jojo Rabbit, Luca

Hopper- Kung Fu Panda, Hook, Forrest Gump

[archiesoniconline]

Sonic Universe Online #52 Behind The Scenes!

Hello, everyone!  Boy, it’s been a while since we’ve done one of these, huh?  But considering we finally managed to release this issue after its nightmarish production cycle, we decided that it was a good time to bring the “behind the scenes” posts back.  There’s a lot to talk about with this one, so get ready for a real doozy!

As usual, let’s start with the cover.  We wanted to have Bunnie and Scarlett as the focus, and RocketPOW! went through several drafts of what that would look like.  In the end, we settled on having them playing cards in the bar from Sonic Mania’s Mirage Saloon Zone to fit with the desert theme.  It’s also worth noting that we had Jack on the cover at one point but ultimately decided against it, since the story focuses more on his lackeys than himself.

Before we start on the actual story, I guess we should begin with the elephant in the room: Bunnie’s redesign.  Even though we technically first saw her new look in issue 51, we might as well go over it now.  Picking up from where the official comic left off, we knew that Bunnie had a redesign after being legionized, but the reboot happened before we ever got to see it.  And with the redesign of such an important character, obviously there was a lot of pressure to do her justice.  There was some old concept art by Tracy Yardley of legionnaire Bunnie, but we didn’t want to just take that and call it a day.  We had quite a field day with many of our talented artists coming up with their own interpretations of her redesign, including @miitoons, @riggo-draws, @drawloverlala, @fritzymagpies, Tim Campbell, CrimDa, DoNotDelete, and more that I sadly can’t remember anymore.  From the shape and function of her cybernetics, her overall color scheme, her clothing, her hairstyle, her weapons, etc., every last detail was meticulously gone over until we arrived at the final design taking what we liked most from each of them.

At first, we had gotten Tale to draw out the first several pages, and even though they were finished, he unfortunately had to step out of the issue and we had Gilgalad take over, better known as Thomas Rothlisberger, who we were lucky to have on the team before he moved on to the IDW Sonic comics.  For the sake of consistency (lol), we unfortunately had to scrap Tale’s pages so he could redo those as well.

Holly’s sickness isn’t elaborated on in the actual story, but the gist is that she’s a snow leapord who was roboticized during the First Robotnik War.  But after the Bem deroboticized her while she was in the desert, her body became sick due to being stuck in the inhospitable environment, which is an example of how misplaced many of the former Robians were being sent far out of their natural habitats, and losing the protection of their robot bodies was actually a detriment.

A Sonic fan with a good eye for detail may notice that the guard who takes over watching Bunnie after Scarlett is actually one of the unnamed members of Infinite’s Jackal Squad from the Sonic Forces prequel comic.  Since this cameo may or may not go anywhere in regards to Infinite in ASO, we opted against using Infinite himself since he’s too important of a character to pass off as a mere cameo.  If you want this plot thread to be expanded upon, let us know!

Since this is where we introduce Holly and her relationship with Scarlett, it’s as good a time as any to discuss the process of their creation.  With Scarlett, we wanted to introduce a character who would serve as a foil to Bunnie, another person struggling due to their bedridden lover, but with diametrically-opposed views regarding cybernetics.  Her design was actually taken from a random Sand Blaster who appeared in a single panel of StH #218, who we decided to turn into a full-fledged character.  Although her species was unknown during her single appearance, we decided to make her a fennec fox.  On the other hand, Holly was an entirely new design that we came up with for the story.  The LGBT aspect of their relationship was actually the idea of my editor for the issue, The Shadow Imperator.  I stated in the interview after the issue that I was the one who came up with their names, but that’s not the whole truth.  There was a whole team effort dedicated to naming the two of them, before I suggested Scarlett since there was an abandoned plot point about how Bunnie’s true name was at one point planned to be Scarlett O’Hare.  Our Scarlett’s full name is Scarlett O’Fenn, with ShadImp being the one to suggest adding the last name as well.  But since her last name didn’t come up in the story, I apologize for forgetting to mention it.  Holly was also one of several names I came up with, which was agreed on due to the sort of “snowy” feel it has to it.

In my initial draft for Scarlett and Holly’s conversation, I wrote Holly as being more openly pessimistic about her condition, outright stating that Scarlett would be better off if she was gone.  But since that seemed rather inconsiderate to Scarlett’s feelings, ShadImp suggested that I tone it down a little and have her only mention feeling like a burden.  He was also the one to suggest that I make sure their romantic relationship is mentioned as explicitly as possible, so there would be no room for ambiguity that might lessen the impact of their sexual orientation.

Scarlett taking off her hat here wasn’t actually in the script I wrote, but it was a smart move by Gilgalad, showing her letting her guard down around the one person she can afford to do so with.  To put it simply, Scarlett offers Holly physical support while Holly offers Scarlett emotional support, so neither one is one-sidedly supporting the other.  This scene also demonstrates that even though Scarlett is easily the most level-headed and compassionate Sand Blaster we’ve seen so far, some of the old bigotries and prejudice against cyborgs and robots that Jack instilled into her still remain.

Gilgalad had actually already penciled out the next couple pages, but since he wasn’t able to stick around for the full story, we decided that that the end of Scarlett and Holly’s scene was a good cutoff point for the drastic shift in art style.  Red Rabbit is an amazing artist with a style very similar to Patrick Spaziante, but it is still a jarring shift compared to most other artists on the project.  I had also originally written Bunnie mentioning not being very good at undercover missions, but when ShadImp brought up her successful operation tricking Battle Lord Kukku I changed the script to have her mention that instead.

At first, I was planning for the poker scene to have the characters holding cards that reflected their position in the conversation, such as holding a winning hand when they have the upper hand in the argument.  But since I have absolutely no knowledge or experience with poker, that idea ultimately didn’t come through in the final story.  This scene also serves to flesh out the Sand Blasters and show that none of them are blindly loyal to Jack.  Tex obviously has his own agenda, Avery just goes along with whatever’s the least troublesome, Shift wants to get his hands on new technology, and Jolt does genuinely want the city to open up to the rest of the world.

You may have noticed that instead of rocket feet like her old design, Bunnie now flies with a removable jet pack on her back.  If you’re wondering how that wouldn’t burn her tail off, it was specifically designed so that the fire trails would shoot aiming away from her tail.

Originally, during the car chase sequence Bunnie’s jet pack was just written to malfunction for no real reason.  But eventually, I decided to give it a more interesting explanation by adding in hints that Shift may have intentionally sabotaged it to trip up Bunnie, only to reveal that he was actually trying to fix it and he didn’t betray her after all.  This was also the portion of the story where Ink Pants took over for pencils, and then Lav after him.  Even though they’re all fine artists in their own right, hopefully this will be the last time that we need to include so many drastic changes in art style to illustrate a single story.

We almost had one more shift in art style, with @gendeerfluid​ penciling the last page.  In the end, Lav managed to finish that one as well, giving us a massive cliffhanger both figuratively and literally in the form of Jun Kun, the Iron King.

That’s about it for this one, folks!  Thanks for sticking with us all this time, and look forward to the conclusion of this story next issue.  Until then, keep on juicin’!

[there-was-a-hole-here-itsgonenow]

Was thinking about Holly and how suspiciously interesting her character is when you think about her appearances in the show. Particularly meaningful focuses too, like her scene with the flickering lights and demogorgon in “Holly, Jolly,” her clearly feeling something wasn’t right when looking down on the trees from the Ferris wheel in s3 (that one fascinates me), her lightbrite scene in s4, and the fact that she utters the last words for s4: that “it’s snowing” outside.

There’s a lot to be said and I’ve seen it analyzed very deeply before. I haven’t rediscovered that awesome thread again yet. But regardless! I want to also leave a little tidbit of info about her name because maybe it could possibly indicate something for s5. Holly derives from the Middle High German holen, holn, from Old High German holōn, holēn -> meaning “to fetch, get, draw.” And from the Proto-Germanic hulōną, hulēną -> meaning “to summon, call, fetch.”

-

@stranger-chichka @aemiron-main and @wibble-wobbegong I’d love to know what any of you think about this—if you think it holds potential significance!

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

For the Christmas ask: 🌲 Winter Solstice (Normal timeline or Modern AU or Medieval AU)

Glorfindel/Ecthelion ~ Normal Timeline or Modern AU

Smut not required, not opposed.

Pairing: Glorfindel x Echthelion

Themes: Soft / NSFW

Warnings: Kissing | Teasing/Innuendo

Wordcount: 900+ words

Summary: After the city of Gondolin is established, the elves that live within its walls prepare to celebrate their first proper winter solstice.

Minors DNI | 18+ | You are responsible for the media you consume

It was a strange thing to wake up to sunlight and look out into a world covered in blinding white. And on this morning, the sun was but a pale disk obscured by thick clouds. Still, this was their life now, and Glorfindel, much like all those who dwelled within Gondolin, was determined to make the most of it.

Now that the city was well settled, its manses and walls completed, the elves of Gondolin made the most of their free time and decorated their halls and their city as they saw fit. Sprigs of evergreen trees and bright red berries hung over windows and doors, adding splashes of color against the chilling white of walls and columns and snow. More hung on the little bridges that dotted the city. The flowers had withered and would not be seen again until the days warmed again. The trees were bare of all leaves, save for the holly that defied the cold.

Glorfindel drew his pelt tighter and departed his home. The wind had died down considerably, and the snowfall had stopped. It was perfect for a stroll; the weather was clear, and the light of day was weak but welcomed.

“The king has called everyone to the square.” Echthelion came upon his companion. He was equally bundled up in thick furs to ward off the cold. “His herald said little else.”

“Let us not tarry then.” Glorfindel slipped his arm around Echthelion’s while they made their way around other elves. They all talked of the herald’s message and what it could mean. Some suggested one thing, others suggested something entirely else. Excitement rippled and grew as they neared the square and the king came forth to address his people.

There would be new traditions, he said, to celebrate this season and what the elders were now calling the winter solstice. On the longest night, which was but two days away, there would be a great feast in the assembly hall. All those who wished to do so could come. There would be winter games that day and the planting of a holly sapling in the square, and storytelling in the evening, after logs were brought back to warm the hall. Then the king called an end to the gathering and returned to the palace.

Echthelion and Glorfindel talked incessantly about the return home. Who would win the games? What would the games even be? Would there be wagers? Gifts?

“Knowing the lords, each House will put their name down for a gift." Echthelion led them down a path that threaded around the city’s gardens. “But who would win in the end?”

“I do not know.” Glorfindel closed his eyes and took a deep breath of cold, bracing air. Wicked humor surged through him, and he said, “But between the both of us, I would wager on myself winning.”

“You most certainly will not!” Echthelion was far from impressed. “For I would be the one to emerge the victor, and not you.”

“Would you care to put your bold declaration to the test?” Glorfindel challenged.

"Yes." Echthelion stopped and narrowed his eyes. “But how?”

“With a race,” Glorfindel suggested, and then ran. Echthelion muttered an oath and raced after him, his boots kicking up snow while he ran to catch up with his companion, determined as ever.

Glorfindel laughed and looked over his shoulder. Echthelion was not far behind. He picked up his feet and ran faster. They ran past other elves going about their day, Glorfindel still laughing, Echthelion resolute.

“Do you still think you could best me, my love?” Glorfindel cried and turned down another path. When he did so, an opportunity presented itself to Echthelion, for Glorfindel had to take care while running down a flight of steps. He lunged at him, knocking him over. Both elves fell onto the soft snow beneath them with barely a sound.

“Of course I can best you, my love." Echthelion declared and smiled even as he struggled to pin Glorfindel’s arms over his head. “When you are not making use of underhanded means to win, that is.”

Glorfindel continued to laugh and broke free of Echthelion’s hold. He squirmed and moved, taking Echthelion with him. In the blink of an eye, it was Glorfindel sitting astride Echthelion, with the latter pinned beneath him. Glorfindel dragged a finger across Echthelion’s cheek and drank in the flush of pink that bloomed in its wake.

“I do not hear you complaining about my underhanded means now,” he observed, and a smile spread across his countenance when Echthelion blushed furiously.

“I could say a great many things concerning your underhanded means." Echthelion sighed softly when Glorfindel traced a finger over his lips. “But I am certain none of them should ever be uttered in the open.”

“A pity, really,” Glorfindel whispered, “for I love hearing you utter such things. It drives me into a frenzy."

Echthelion flushed again, then closed his eyes when Glorfindel leaned down and kissed him. The kiss was a reflection of Glorfindel’s mood: his exhilaration, his longing. Then he drew Echthelion up with him, trembling. Perhaps it was from the cold. Perhaps it was from something darker and more enticing. Glorfindel still relished it, swallowing the soft sound that followed with his next kiss. Then he heard laughter and footsteps nearing them. He drew away and looked over his shoulder.

There were elves further up the path, but they had not seen them. Still, he did not wish for them to be found like this, so he helped Echthelion to his feet.

“Shall we continue this behind closed doors?” He entreated.

More than a little lightheaded himself, Echthelion agreed.

[pink-writer-girl]

Remembrance of Yule

Secret Santa I did for KittchenKAT

In a small village, residents gathered around to prepare for their upcoming festivities. Joyful laughter and chattering bounced off the stone town square. They dressed street lamps with pine cones and holly as streamers made from pine needles, cranberries, and ribbons hung from post to post. And in the center of the Town stood an enormous pine tree, for handmade ornaments hung with care. Comprising different pine cones, ribbons, homemade candles, dried citrus and cranberries.

As snow fell gently, residents added their ornaments to the tree, creating a beautiful sparkle in the candle and light flames. The children were especially eager. Either their parents were helping them hang up the ornaments by picking them up or they were playing in the snow, making snowmen or having snowball fights. We're getting eager by the huge Yule log cake that the other adults brought out onto a dining table they had placed in the middle of the square.

One figure in a cloak, walking down the Town square, hiding her colorful clothes under the cloak, trying to bundle up to keep warmth. The figure turned their head slightly, which made their hood drop slightly enough to allow strands of red hair to blow in the wind. The drow woman closed her eyes and enjoyed the pleasant smells in the air.

She Couldn't help but smile fondly, gazing upon the scene, especially the children playing. It reminded her of the happy times she had with her family during Yule when she was younger. They used to play in the snow and throw snowballs at each other. Her heart filled with love, thinking of her little brothers. It overjoyed her on the day she became a big sister. Even though she had caring older brothers, they were often busy with their responsibilities, giving her little attention.

Kiera Theen's family always stayed together during the holidays. Her mother would weave sweaters to keep them warm while her brothers brought in firewood for dinner. The father would bring in the packages of presents wrapped in brown paper tied with thread and with pine cones for decoration. Her mother would complain that he had bought too many, but she had always been daddy’s girl that he would love to spoil.

She missed her mother's roasted chestnuts and making ornaments with her mother and little brothers to hang on the tree they had in the center of their tribe. She longed for times like these... for someone had taken everything away from her. Before she had to go on the run for her life.

Could no longer work at the festivities. She twisted away, shielding her tears.

“Oh miss, are you new in town?” A kind old voice said, making her look to see an old bearded man.

“Not from these parts, are you?” He asked.

“Passing through…” she replied softly but curtly.

“We're doing a celebration for Yule,” he said, gesturing to the Townsfolk.

With a gentle smile, he reassured her that many travelers were welcome.

Kiera theen brought up her hand at this “no no it's not that, it's just-I don't stay at places to… safer for everyone that way,” she replied with a sad smile.

“I better go now, enjoy your holiday,” she said as she disappeared down the town and away from the square.

Praying to Avandra silently to protect her on this journey she would once again take upon by herself.

-Fin

[talesfromthegameff14]

Prompt #20: Hamper - Arrosez

Writing Music:  Everybody Sins - Andrew WK

It was the dark of the moon in the depths of winter, the days short and bright with the nights long and frozen.  The forest slumbered in this season, the only green seen from holly vines tangled in the bare limbs of the oak tree and the occasional pine scattered among the different trees of the Shroud.  It was a time to rest and heal, take the time to tell stories, indulge in hobbies that one didn’t have the means to do in the busier seasons of spring, summer, and fall.  The land would tend to itself now, for most at least.

For those dedicated to Memphina, this phase of the moon within the darkest of the months was a time to remember and in this Rose was no exception.  The tribe was more malms away than they could count, separated by mountains and oceans and an iron cage.  Sometimes, the cage could be slipped out of, their soul feeling the pull of home and tradition even in this ceruleum soaked hellscape.  A flicker of aether, carefully drawn from the bluejay that acted as unseen companion and lifeline, traveled throughout the compound of the Alaudae.  Those that were already sleeping sunk deeper into it and those that weren’t found themselves pushed into a light slumber despite whatever task they were doing.  It wouldn’t last long, but long enough for what they needed.  The doors of this cage were never locked, the collars around the necks of the Alaudae more than enough to keep the prisoners of war in line as Rose has found out time and time again.  Escape was so close in this moment, but not close enough, not while that wretched device was locked around their neck and hampered their every effort to leave. Instead, the call of impossible freedom was ignored as they walked through the ghostly silent halls and out into the frost coated gloom.  They couldn’t see the moon, no one could when Menphina hid herself from the Star.  But, they could still feel it, knew where it traveled unseen along the sea of stars.  Their feet took them past the gates where guards slumped against the posts in forced slumber.  A clump of trees nearby called to the elezen, though they kept to the road to mask their passage.  Only turning towards the trees once they were close enough that the footsteps wouldn’t be easily seen.  Once within the shelter of the needled covered boughs Rose exhaled before looking up to the star speckled sky and let theirself think of things that only brought grief and pain in this place. The warmth of a fire crackling, tucked in beside the stone hearth deep in the ground with a good book and a warm drink.  The laughter of lovers nearby as Moni cooked and Ren got in the way to snitch bites of food as he could.  The scent of spices and stew, savory and sweet, from the magic that Moni could manage in the kitchen.  She always was the better cook.  Meals shared along with kisses and cuddles and so many things they took for granted.  Yet under it all?  The Star and the road called, the bedrock singing a sweet tune of exploration with notes of cacophony, imbalances that needed correcting.  Tears rolled down the half mask Rose wore to keep their face protected from the biting cold, freezing before they could drop down onto the snow.  The sorrow and longing sapped the strength from their limbs and a need to scream about the unfairness of it all burbled uselessly in their chest.  They couldn’t, not here, never here.  The spell was far too tenuous with the limited aether they could work with here.  If they were caught?  It would mean more pain, a step closer to death that they still fought against.  It would be a step further from the memories they held close like a thread worn blanket that was cherished well past it’s usefulness.  It was too long and not long enough before they turned and left the copse of trees, retracing their steps back to their cell within the compound.  If the guards at the gate were a bit too still?  Well that was on them for falling asleep in the bitter cold.  Asleep in their room Rose had nothing to do with it and no care for any lives lost in the dark of Menphina’s smile.   

[dismaltouch]

“ if it was the winter i might be a little more sympathetic towards that, ” she was bluffing, she wouldn't leave him out on the streets at any time of the year, she just wanted to see what else she could get him to say. grin tugged at her lips as he told her something she actually wanted to hear, step taken towards the other. “ you got me stuck inside your head snow ? hmm ? want me all to yourself ? ”

“   ‘cause   ...   i   have   nowhere   else   to   go   .   ”   he   doesn’t   like   this   ,   having   to   beg   ,   though   he’s   sure   she’s   enjoying   it   .   “   and   i   can’t   fucking   get   you   out   of   my   head   .   i   don’t   know   what   you   do   to   me   .   ”

[nx08h63bitchyobservationnerd]

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