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onehundredandeleventropicalfish · 2 years

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getting emotional about the last issue of sandman again (cw for major comic spoilers, discussion of suicidal thoughts)

because like. so we learn pretty early on what dream's deal with shakespeare was, allowing him better access to his creative potential in return for two plays, and we know this because we get midsummer night's dream, which was commissioned by dream for the actual titania as a parting gift before the faeries left earth forever

but we don't learn the second play until right at the end, after dream is dead, after the funeral, after sunday mourning and exiles, both of which make really beautiful endings to the story in their own right

the second play is the tempest. and there's a lot of the play that neil gaiman quotes in this issue, but i'll focus on the specific two that shakespeare reads aloud

the first is our obvious one - prospero's address at his daughter's wedding.

Be cheerful, sir. Our revels now are ended. These our actors, as I foretold you, were all spirits and are melted into air, into thin air. And like the baseless fabric of this vision, the cloud-capped towers, the gorgeous palaces, the solemn temples, the great globe itself, ye all which it inherit, shall dissolve, and like this insubstantial pageant faded, leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff as dreams are made on, and our little life is rounded with a sleep.

it's a beautiful passage, and exactly what to put at the end of this story - prospero is reminding everyone that stories are just stories, they aren't real and can't hurt anyone, but also they are the one thing that lives forever. humans are shaped and formed by our dreams, by our stories, we come from them, and in the end, we return to them.

now, prospero is the character we focus on in this issue. because there's a three-way parallel here between dream and prospero and shakespeare himself.

dream and shakespeare have both lost their sons, were both irreparably changed by that. both regret decisions they've made in their lives, and wish to leave the path they've found for themselves, but don't feel they can - their responsibilities are too great, they have no choice but to be what they were born to be. both wonder what might have happened in a world where things were different, but they know that could never have been

and prospero is the balm to that. prospero has made mistakes in his life, he's in several ways the antagonist of this story, but at the end, he gets to put it all aside. his daughter lives, and is happy. he gives up his magic - the source of his power, but also his suffering - and abandons his role, leaves the island he'd been ruling for decades. and this is his happy ending.

when shakespeare asks dream why this play, why he wanted that ending, instead of some great tragedy or drama, something more fit for a king, dream responds "because i will never leave my island."

and we see throughout the issue that that was personal to shakespeare too, it was a wish fullfilment for both of them.

but then we get to the epilogue, the second quote i'm focusing on. because shakespeare doesn't know how to end the play, until he has that conversation with dream.

this is the tempest's epilogue, in full:

Now my charms are all o'erthrown/And what strength I have’s mine own/Which is most faint. Now, ’tis true/I must be here confined by you/Or sent to Naples. Let me not/Since I have my dukedom got/And pardoned the deceiver, dwell/In this bare island by your spell/But release me from my bands/With the help of your good hands.

Gentle breath of yours my sails/Must fill, or else my project fails/Which was to please. Now I want/Spirits to enforce, art to enchant/And my ending is despair/Unless I be relieved by prayer/Which pierces so that it assaults/Mercy itself and frees all faults.

As you from crimes would pardoned be/Let your indulgence set me free.

like most shakespeare epilogues, it's a direct address to the audience, talking about the play. prospero is asking forgiveness from the audience for all he did wrong, but then reminding them that he's only human, don't we all want to be forgiven? and after all, all of this was just a story. he only wanted to create something for you. so applaud the ending, tell him it was worth it, and only with your permission can he finish the story, and finally leave.

and that's the thing, about dream's particular brand of suicidal thoughts. being dream of the endless has been weighing on him for centuries, if not millenia, he longs for an escape, but he knows he can't. when they see it's breaking him his siblings try and convince him to leave, like destruction did, but it's not in him to abandon the dreaming like that.

and that amount of responsibility, of staying alive because you owe it to other people - it's a relief, then, when a battle comes along that's too great for you to face, but there's also a lot of guilt in it. because he gave up. and he knows he did. letting the kindly ones win was the most selfish decision he's ever made

and you might say, well, he's dead, he doesn't have to face it, but that's not wholly true. because all three of the last issues deal with some version of dream after death.

there's the dream of him hob has in sunday mourning, which isn't the true dream, he's dead, except of course it is dream, because he was only ever made of dreams anyway, so does it really matter whether it's real or not?

in exiles the protagonist talks to both morpheus and daniel in the desert, and for dream this was two very different time periods, but to the man crossing the desert, they happened simultaneously, so if time can be warped like that in dreams, who's to say that the ripples of morpheus won't continue long into the future?

and then we have the tempest. dream has appeared after death as a dream, as a mirage, and finally, in perhaps his truest form, as a story.

when dream said he will never leave his island, shakespeare reminds him that all men can change. and this is the fatal flaw of dream - he doesn't see himself as a man, as a person, as anything but the entity which must fulfill his function. he tells shakespeare that men have stories, men change - he does not

and when we end this entire 75 issue run with the epilogue from the tempest, dream is prospero. even after death he's still reckoning with the guilt of making that decision. even now, he won't allow himself that freedom.

and that's the reminder, that all of this was just a story - dream's story. the reader is a character in sandman, all of this was created for us. did he manage to create something beautiful enough, despite the pain? can he be forgiven for the decisions he made along the way? if eventually he gave up, does that make all the time he fought so hard for meaningless?

and he can't be free of the story until we answer that all important question - was it worth it?

to which the answer can only be of course it was.

#you did good kiddo. take your rest. it's okay #interestingly enough the tempest isn't the only play that refers to the afterlife as a dream #hamlet does too (which you know is the piece inspired by shakespeare's dead son)#but that's just me and my shakespeare nerd #i've won literal monetary awards for my writing on shakespeare but here i am rereading sandman and crying #so you all get to cry too #neil gaiman you madman give me your writing talents #the sandman #sandman comic spoilers #dream of the endless #....it feels weird to tag shakespeare in this #wake #mine #meta #suicide tw

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eslanes · 1 year

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ꜰᴀᴍɪʟʏ ʀᴇᴜɴɪᴏɴ ᴄᴀꜱ ᴄʜᴀʟʟᴇɴɢᴇ

(thanks @faerie-tempest)

Okay I went a bit wild and did the whole challenge for Devon's family. This was really fun and I highly encourage doing this one!

(See below the cut for who's-who!)

Devon Grace (the influencer + cousin who's getting married) - The reality star, social media influencer and adult entertainer we all know and love! She's also getting married to her new boo, unbeknownst to him.

Stavros Pantazis (the new bae) - Literally new new, they met less than a sim-week ago and are now expecting a little terror of their own. No one will bother remembering his name and Grandma keeps calling him "Vlad".

Briar Rose Grace (the quiet judgmental youngin') - Devon's daughter. What can i say, she's a saucy little shit lol.

Brianna Grace (the competitive sibling) - Devon's younger sister and a bit of a brat in her own right.

Mary-Jacqueline Grace (the instigator) - Devon and Brianna's mother. She's a chainsmoking, hard-drinking hot mess of a broad. She's been known to get into fist-fights with grown men (and win, of course).

Catherine Grace-De la Roca (the cool aunt) - Mary-Jacqueline's twin sister and the only reason Devon and Brianna turned out half-sensible. Art teacher and travel enthusiast.

Rodrigo De la Roca (the world's most interesting uncle) - Catherine's husband and walking encyclopedia of weird and random knowledge. Has some kind of bizarre story for every occasion. Don't ask him to tell the thumb story.

Gabi De la Roca (the holier-than-thou student) - Teenage terror with brains to burn. She's banking on a full scholarship to Britechester to get away from her unhinged family.

Enid Grace (the family recipe gatekeeper) - The matriarch of the Grace family. Rules the kitchen with an iron fist. Whatever you do, don't ask for her rhubarb pie recipe.

Tony Grace (the overly-supportive grandparent) - Enid's husband and family patriarch. Wanna join the circus? Drop out of college? Kill someone? Grandpa's got your back (and probably the shovel).

Ronnie Grace (the bitcoin uncle) - Tech nerd and the lamest guy you will ever meet. Somehow his family hasn't left him for his constant rants about blockchains. May or may not have lost half his savings from investing in Llamacoin. Mary-Jacqueline and Catherine's younger brother.

Keisha Grace (the nosy relative) - Somehow still married to Ronnie (but doesn't know about the Llamacoin yet). Actually loves family gatherings because she gets all the dirt to gossip about with her friends later.

Niko Grace (the peacemaker) - Ronnie's son from his first marriage, at 31 he's still "finding himself" (ie: unemployed musician living in his parents' basement). You can probably find him outside of a family gathering trying to push weed on his younger cousins.

Grayson Grace (the golden child) - It's really not hard to be the golden boy when your older brother sells weed to children.

Tabitha Loveless (the passive-aggressive auntie) - A widower, Tony's older sister and Devon's great-aunt. Tabitha may or may not have flown to the gathering on her broom.

Karen Loveless (the live-laugh-love mom) - Tabitha's daughter. Cheerful to a fault, but please don't ruffle her couch cushions or you will face the wrath of God. Has been in a 17-year old standoff with Aunt Enid over that goddamn pie recipe.

Eddie and Jason Loveless (the d.i.n.k.w.a.d's) - Karen's son and son-in-law. They just got back from a cruise and can't wait to tell you all about it. They're really living their double-income-no-kids-with-a-dog life to the fullest. They considered leaving because their precious pooch, Tangerine, was not given her own place setting.

Kurt Loveless and Monica Song (the anxious new parents) - Eddie's twin brother and his fiancée. Just welcomed a bouncing baby boy, Chevron Fritz Loveless. Baby Chevron is so special that he spends 18.5 of 24 hours a day screaming his sweet little head off. If it weren't for his mother Karen, Eddie is convinced he would kill his twin brother and take over his life. Monica showed up to the reunion with baby shit on her shirt and is unfazed.

Kelly Loveless-Strong (the wino soccer mom) - Tabitha's other daughter and Karen's younger sister. She's convinced her precious boy is going to make it to the World Cup (that is if he can get tf off of Twitch). Fun fact: there's definitely wine in that coffee cup. Is 100% likely to get into a table-dancing contest with cousin Mary-Jaqueline later.

Colby Strong (the 'other' influencer) - The family still doesn't undertand how Colby got famous for playing videogames but they are all so proud anyhow, even if he is pissing away his opportunity at being a world-class athlete. Most definitely out back smoking weed with cousin Niko.

#the sims 4 #ts4 #SimsFamilyReunion #sims 4 challenge #i will now be passing away

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princesssarisa · 1 month

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Do you also know the different names meanings of The Little Mermaid?

I don't know her name in every adaptation, but here goes:

Rusalka (the opera Rusalka): "Water nymph." (It's not actually a proper name – English synopses of the opera tend to call her "Rusalka" as if it's her name, but really she's "the rusalka.")

Naida (the Let's Pretend radio adaptation): "Water nymph."

Mako (the 1970 anime series Mahō no Mako-chan): "Sincerity."

Marina (the 1975 anime film, and the 1991 anime series Adventures of the Little Mermaid): "Of the sea."

Pearl (the Faerie Tale Theatre version): "Pearl," of course.

Mija (Happily Ever After: Fairy Tales for Every Child): "Beautiful girl." (This is its Korean meaning, which fits with the adaptation's Asian setting, though it has other meanings in other languages.)

Ariel (the Disney version): "Lion of God."

Undine (the 2013 Sechs auf einen Streich adaptation): "Wave."

Elizabeth (the 2018 indie film): "My God is an oath."

It's interesting that the most famous name for this heroine, her Disney name of "Ariel," is one of the few that doesn't have a sea- or water-related meaning. I'm sure the Disney creative team was thinking of Shakespeare's Ariel from The Tempest, since that Ariel is also a sprightly, singing, fantastical being, who lives in close proximity to the sea on an island, and since his chief desire is also for freedom, which he also gains in the end.

The fact that Disney's Ariel doesn't have a sea-related name might also reinforce the fact that ultimately, she doesn't belong in the sea – she belongs on land, which her father needs to learn to accept. Whereas in other versions of the tale, the mermaid sadly learns to accept that even in human shape, she can never belong to the human world, so a sea-related name is more fitting.

#the little mermaid #fairy tale #name meanings

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labellefleur-sauvage · 20 days

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Tempests and Urges

Chapter III of my gift for @stickyelectrons! I'm so very sorry for the delay (it was a surprisingly busy winter for me!) but I hope you enjoy!

Read on AO3

Fic summary and current chapters here

XXX

III.

Lucien had never been to the Continent. Growing up, his tutors had dutifully lectured him about the intricate and long—and dreadfully boring—histories of the Faerie kingdoms across the sea, and how foreign their lands were from those in Prythian. Lucien remembered absolutely none of it. He was the youngest son of a High Lord, with no hope of ever needing to retain this information—why did he need to know of the economic policies of Rask, or whether Vallahan was experiencing a lower crop haul than average? No, he would be much better off learning all there was to know about the six other Courts that comprised his home land, to make allies and friends with the fae who might actually benefit him later on.

He mentally cursed himself for the hundredth time just that morning and tried to remember as much information from his studies of this strange Fae land as possible. Any information would be a boon at this point. All he and Elain has tried to do was enter the great walled city of Montesere’s capital early in the morning, and been immediately stopped by the city’s guards.

“Good morning,” Elain had murmured demurely to the faes holding swords longer than her torso.

The sharp clang of the guard’s metal armor straightening met their greeting. “What business do two Prythians have in Montesere?” a guard asked in a guttural accent. Her dark sharp eyes were narrowed with distrust, her frowning lips framed with deep grooves of disgust.

Elain stared wide eyed. “Apologies,” Lucien quickly replied. “We’re here to visit the sights of Montesere.”

“Yet you come from the east, from the mountains. Very little to look at over there.”

Damn this perceptive female. Lucien put on his most charming smile. “We went hiking in the mountains. We both love nature and walking, and wanted to experience the grandeur of Montesere’s famed peaks.”

The guard cast a disbelieving look over Elain, over her physique that suggested she’d never walked that much in her life. “And both of you went on a days long hiking trip?”

Alright, if niceties wouldn’t work… “Well, I suppose I got to view more than Montesere’s natural beauty, you understand,” Lucien said conspiratorially to the guard, lowering his voice and grinning slightly. Behind him, Elain gasped in outrage.

Miraculously, the guard chuckled. “Yes, a very lucky male you are.” She stepped aside. “Tide’s blessings. Enjoy the city.”

“How dare you!” Elain exclaimed as soon as they were far enough past the city’s walls. “Implying that we—that I—!”

“What would you have me do, Elain?” Lucien asked, annoyed. “From the moment you said ‘good morning’ and not ‘tide’s blessings’ or whatever they say here, they marked us as outsiders. There aren’t too many innocent visitors from Prythian at the moment, and I had to make us appear as non-threatening as possible. It wouldn’t surprise me if there’s someone following our every move even now.” He unclenched his jaw. They needed to keep a low profile, and they’d already spectacularly failed.

Elain looked around wildly, like she might spot some cloaked figure skulking menacingly in the shadows. “Surely they have enough visitors here that we wouldn’t raise any alarm.”

“Any normal visitors to Montesere would arrive by ship. We clearly aren’t merchants or farmers, so our method of entry was already a bit unusual.”

“Well,” Elain asked slowly, “what else do I need to know about Montesere?”

A great question. Lucien spent the next several hours wracking his brain to recall anything about the local customs of this far off fae kingdom. They made their way slowly around the bustling commercial districts in the city, generally making their way towards the docks. He remembered hearing from Eris, during some stuffy meeting in his youth, that Monteserens haggled and bartered for everything, which only came to mind when Elain had purchased a small pastry for breakfast and handed over the five coins without complaint. The baker’s eyes had bulged with disbelief, then he yelled something in a foreign language to someone at another stall, who openly laughed at him and Elain.

It was no use. Lucien decided that watching people would be easier than trying to recall something Armand, his oldest tutor, had tried teaching him over 300 years ago. Montesere, being surrounded by the sea on two sides, owed much of their livelihood and wealth to the ocean, and thus, paid respectable homage to their bountiful yet cruel god everywhere. Small bowls of seawater were placed inside the entrance of every building they ventured into, for people to dip their fingers in and continuously receive the sea’s blessings, he assumed, observing a gaggle of females perform the practice when he and Elain entered a tailor’s shop. Elain was about to begin wondering the store when Lucien surreptitiously guided her back to the bowl to perform the ritual.

She adapted easily though, gracefully dabbing the salty water on her wrists then floated amongst the racks, selecting a modest wool cloak and haggling the price down ten silvers with a satisfied smile. There was no future for Elain as a spy—she was far too kind and free with her emotions for that line of work—but as an emissary, charming potential allies and adapting to new situations…Lucien could see a glimmer of potential.

“It’s been almost an entire hour since someone openly laughed at us or mocked us,” Elain remarked drolly as they exited the shop and took a random turn down another busy street, stuffing her new cloak in her bag. “A rousing success.”

Lucien gave a half grin. “At this rate, we’ll be proper Monteserens in no time.”

Elain looked around. “Besides booking passage on a ship, what else do we need to do?”

“Find accommodation for the night, but there should be enough guest houses around town that it shouldn’t be an issue.”

Her eyes gleamed and she sent him a sideways grin. “Since we most likely won’t be back to Montesere for some time after this, want to explore and see if we can avoid being the laughingstock of the city?”

If Lucien felt like a fish out of water—damn these seafaring Fae for making him think in puns—then at least Elain had grown a pair of gills and was flourishing. Ever since she told him off after entering the city, her eyes were wide and her mouth open in near permanent wonder and awe. Lucien couldn’t blame her. The city was built onto the hills and cliffs overlooking the impressive sea and docks, with the wealthiest inhabitants living so far up the hill as to be in the clouds.

Most fae in Montesere were wealthy, and the city shoved its opulence in its visitor’s faces. The roads were paved with hand-painted bricks of various shades of blue, so that the streets themselves resembled flowing rivers and streams that led to intricate marble fountains in different central squares. One of these squares, adorned with an enchanted marble statue of a dolphin that moved and bobbed around its pedestal on its own, held a host of fine jewelry artisans. Elain watched one Lesser fae, her gray fingers nimble and quick as she worked the fragilest of materials—opals, obsidian, sea shells—into necklaces and dangling earrings. Elain’s fingers grazed a small pearl ring, longing clear on her face, before she turned around to watch the dancing dolphin.

Lucien picked up the ring. It wasn’t the largest pearl ring, and even had a few imperfections: it was dull, and oddly shaped. Its price tag was more modest as a result, and he certainly had enough savings stashed away in Prythian to purchase it, should he wish to.

He set the ring down. No use thinking about buying an extravagant gift for a female who said she wanted nothing to do with him after their journey, as much as his inner beast begged him to throw away all the coin Rhys had given them away on a trinket that would likely be lost should he purchase it.

They continued exploring the city and what it had to offer. The architecture was unlike anything he’d ever seen in Prythian. Buildings of all shapes and sizes made out of a sand colored stone with red tiled roofs surrounded them as they walked the city’s narrow and windy blue streets, with perfectly manicured trees and hedges lining the boulevards. High Fae in fashionable and daring outfits strolled by. A few wore ensembles that wouldn’t be out of place in Summer or Dawn, but most wore so little clothing that even Helion would be shocked. Females in scraps of nets and gauze leisurely walked the streets with equally immodest and barely clothed partners, their hair in extravagant updos and paper-thin parasols resting on their shoulders.

“Stop staring!” Elain hissed as Lucien’s eye darted to and away from the swaying hips of a curvaceous High Fae woman covered in a blue chiffon dress that was nearly see-through and resembled the ocean’s waves, her heeled boots clacking against the brick.

“Like you weren’t ogling that shirtless male that just walked by.”

“I wasn’t ogling,” Elain retorted. “I was merely…observing the vastly different fashions of the Continent.”

Lucien shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “It’s alright to look. Although,” he lowered his voice and leaned into her, noting that she imperceptibly leaned towards him, “I think that blue dress would look so lovely on you.” Her mouth formed a little ‘O,’ and Lucien walked down the street with a smile on his face.

The smell of the sea was vibrant here, but especially so the nearer they got to the docks. Lucien had little sea experience, as Autumn only had a few rocky and briny shores along its eastern coast, and he had never been to a dockyard, much less the largest in a seafaring nation. The smell of salt and fish was strong, nearly overwhelming, but tempered with enough richness and freshness that prevented him from burying his head in the crook of his arm.

Faes of all kind—High and Lesser—rushed around the crowded docks, shouting orders, carrying cargo, and preparing their huge ships for sail. It was hot and congested. Someone knocked into Lucien as they rushed by and a throng of workers swarmed around him. By the time he fought his way out of the crowd, Elain was nowhere to be seen.

“Shit.” Lucien looked around wildly. They’d only been in the city for half a day and he’d already lost the only fae he had to keep track of. He jogged along the docks, looking for that familiar head of brown hair. How had he lost her?

There was no trace of Elain; even her scent had vanished under the fresh smells he’d just been admiring. His heart quickened furiously as he shoved anyone in his way. Lucien had not just lost his partner on this mission, but the female who could ruin him with a few words, his—

The beating in his chest was even stronger and louder now. Not with worry, he realized after a second, but with something deeper, something he’d only felt once before: the mating bond. His chest thrummed with recognition as Elain tugged on their bond, whether she realized it or not, drawing him to her. Desperate, Lucien followed the bond to its other half.

Lucien found Elain at the far end of the dock, partially obstructed behind stacks of crates, staring up at the largest male he had ever seen. Lucien wasn’t necessarily a small male, but there were plenty of males that were taller or wider than him; the Night Court’s general, for example, or even his oldest brother Eris. Both either taller or more muscular than himself, but Lucien hadn’t lied to Elain—he was a trained warrior, and knew a fae’s strength was more than just one’s muscles. He was lean but muscular, fast, and his fire magic was deadly.

Still, Lucien wouldn’t have said no to a few more inches or an additional twenty or thirty pounds on his frame, just for some extra assurances in this instant. The male towering over Elain was at least 7 feet tall, with more tattoos covering his pale, scarred skin than was on the three overgrown bats of the Night Court. One of his biceps was wider than both of Lucien’s put together, with a thick, barrel chest and thighs thicker than a tree trunks.

Despite the fierceness lining her face, Lucien could feel Elain’s fear through the bond. The male crowded further against Elain and leered down at her. “And what’s a pretty lady like you doing here, all by yourself on the docks?”

“Let me pass, please.”

“Oh, a foreigner.” Lucien could hear the sick delight in the male’s voice. “Has anyone showed you how we welcome visitors to our lovely city?” The male reached a hand out, and Lucien struggled to quietly sneak past the crates blocking him from Elain.

Elain sneered. “I didn’t come here to look at your ugly face.”

Lucien couldn’t help his small smile at Elain’s sass, even as his heart sank and he struggled to get to her. The male’s broad shoulder’s tightened. “You wench—”

She gave the male a condescending look from head to toe. “How does any ship you board manage to stay afloat? Do they just throw you overboard to serve as an anchor?”

“You fucking bitch, I’ll make you regret that.”

Summoning his fire magic in his hands, Lucien lept up behind the male and wrapped one burning hand around the male’s mouth and another around his throat, his legs firmly wrapped around his opponent’s midsection. He held on tight, tighter than he’d ever grasped anything before, his rage at someone threatening and insulting his mate fueling his desire to hurt and maim and kill.

Lucien smelled burning flesh, the scent so acrid that not even the calming smells of the sea could mask the terrible odor emanating from the male’s body. The fae struggled against Lucien, tried to break the death grip that was threating to suffocate him, but found no amount of muscles and raw strength could compete with a male who needed to protect his mate.

“Apologize,” Lucien demanded, ripping the hand over the male’s mouth away. Lucien didn’t need to look at his hand to know that the warm liquid staining his fingers was blood.

“S-sorry!” the male gasped. Good enough. Lucien slapped his spread hand over the entirety of the male’s face again, his flames melting the male’s fresh and sinew away from his skull. The fae’s defeated groan was one of the most delightful things Lucien had ever heard.

The male’s body trembled underneath him. He needed to finish him before his legs gave out. Lucien leaned into the male’s head, so close his lips grazed the male’s pale, pointed ear. “Get the fuck away from my mate,” he growled, low enough that Elain couldn’t hear, then lept off the male and pushed his swaying body off the docks into the sea.

It took a few moments for Lucien to calm down enough to remember himself. The sounds of the busy dock gradually drifted to his ears as he took one calming breath after another. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d lost control and his inner beast took charge like that. A frisson of emotion split through his chest, and Lucien looked to Elain.

“Elain,” Lucien said softly, her fear making him sick. Her eyes were wide and glassy, her body stiff as she stood watching him. Fear, and another, barely perceptible smell, emanated from her slight forn. He held up his hands before remembering the blood staining his flesh. Reaching over the docks to swipe his hands into the sea, he held up his clean hands and slowly approached her.

“Are you alright?”

Elain barked a short, high pitched laugh. “Am I alright? I just watched you melt the skin off a male’s face with your bare hands! Of course I’m not alright!” She glanced into the sea. “Did you kill him?”

“I don’t care,” Lucien answered truthfully without thinking, but grimaced when Elain flinched. “I’m sorry you had to see that, Elain, but what that male was saying to you…what he was going to do to you, I couldn’t stand by and do nothing.”

“But did you have to be so, so…violent? It was ghastly, barbaric—”

“It was Fae, Elain.” Lucien took another tentative step towards the female. “That violence is within each and every fae, always lurking just under our skin, looking for any excuse to break free and punish those who threaten those we care about.”

“You’re wrong,” Elain whispered, looking devastated. “I’m nothing like that, like you. I’m not Fae.”

Her horror roiled his stomach, but better for her to face the truth now. “That’s where I think you’re wrong, Elain.” Slowly, he reached a hand out, blood still under his fingernails, and entwined his large hand with her small, clean, perfect one. She tried to pull her hand from his but he held on. “Whether you accept it or not, you’re no longer human. You’re as much Fae as I am, and you have your own inner beast waiting to escape. Cauldron, were you even aware of the things you were saying to that male, how you were taunting him?” He studied her hand and the long, slightly pointed nails on each finger. If she so desired it, she could easily rip someone’s throat out now. “Would you have said those things as a human? You’re fae now and your beast is raring for a fight. "

Elain was quiet, her lower lip trembling. “I don’t want to destroy the world or be violent.”

“Then let me be your protector, Elain.” He moved their twined hands together and lowered his voice. “A higher being connected us for some reason—take advantage of it to do want you want within reason, find yourself, with the knowledge that your mate will be nearby to keep you safe.” He darted a quick look up to Elain’s face at her small intake of breath. “Which is, I suspect, at least part of the reason why you insisted on joining me, correct?”

She hung her head. “I don’t want to give you any false promises about…us.”

Lucien’s chest ached but he gave Elain an unaffected grin. “Of course not, my lady. We’re associates journey towards a common goal, right?” He frowned. “Even if you had ulterior motives for joining me.”

Elain withdrew her hand from his grasp, her gaze cold. “You cannot fault me for trying to find my place in the world I was unfairly thrust into.”

“Fault you? Of course not. Do I perhaps think you foolish for attempting to do so during a critical and dangerous mission?” Lucien shrugged, rather than state the obvious.

Elain stepped away on wobbly legs. “We’ve already established you’re not a gentleman, so say what’s on your mind!” she snapped, all fear of him forgotten.

Lucien was glad—he’d rather see Elain furious with him than afraid of him, or afraid of herself. “Fine. While I commend your courage and need to find yourself in this new world, I think you may be in a bit over your head and are too stubborn to admit it. No, I know you’re too stubborn to admit it.”

She paused. “You don’t think me too weak to accompany you?”

“There are many things I find you, Elain Archeron, but weak is not one of them.”

They stared at each other, unmoving, for several seconds. “Everyone else always thought me too quiet and reserved. Nesta and Feyre are bold; I’m supposed to be the quiet one.” Elain cocked her head. “It’s nice, not having that expectation.”

Lucien could relate all too well to other’s idealized expectations and the pressures it created. “Well, one benefit of being fae: you’re strong enough now that you probably could have punched that male and sent him flying off the docks, so I don’t believe you have to worry about being weak.”

“I didn’t mean weak in that way.”

“I know. I don’t think you’re weak in any sense of the word.”

Elain bit her bottom lip, but Lucien could see the corners of her mouth raise slightly all the same. “You overestimate my ability to fight. I’ve never hit someone in my life.”

“That’s alright; we still need to find a ship for passage. Perhaps you’ll find some other poor soul to antagonize and I can teach you.” Lucien lightly grabbed Elain’s wrist and pulled her out of the cover of the crates. He looked around; no one was staring at them, so it appeared nobody saw—or cared—about their altercation. Lucien dropped her hand as they began walking down the docks, but Elain stayed next to him.

“Let’s find us a ship that can take us where we need to go. The sooner it leaves, the better.”

“Any requirements?” Elain asked, her eyes wide again at the unfamiliar sights surrounding them.

“Large enough that it won’t topple over, and preferably without any holes in its hull. Truthfully, I know very little about ships.”

Elain hummed. “My father was a merchant, and worked with several different ships and crews to transport his goods to and from the Continent. That ship, for example,” pointing to a large boat to their right, “probably wouldn’t be comfortable for us.”

“Why is that?” Lucien had been eyeing that ship as an option for them, and could see no obvious issues. Its sails were intact, the hull complete, and though a bit plain, it looked clean enough.

“Look at its gangway, see how it’s all dirty and covered in…filth? That means they’re probably transporting a large number of animals, so it will be messy and smelly and loud. If there’s nothing else it will work, but…” Elain shrugged. “We could probably do better.”

“I see,” Lucien said slowly, watching as several large oxes were indeed shoved up the creaky gangway onto the boat. “Well spotted. What about that one?”

Elain looked at a ship further down the dock Lucien pointed out. It was larger than the first, its sails bright white and hull shiny. Someone had even painted the wood in bright, colorful paints.

“Definitely not. That ship has never sailed before. It’s bad luck to journey on a ship’s maiden voyage.”

Lucien hummed. Must be a human superstition. They continued leisurely strolling down the dock. “In that case, what do you recommend?”

Elain scanned the dozens of ships around them as they continued to walk, her eyes sharp and quick. Eventually her gazed focused on one ship. “That one.”

“That one?” Lucien’s eyebrows raised in surprise. It was a plain and unremarkable ship, not the largest or smallest, with no finery or distinguishing features. “What makes it suitable for us?”

Elain nodded her head to a gruff looking male studiously inspecting several crates loaded with spices. “Because the ship’s cook has ordered a large number of different spices for food. If the captain cares that much about keeping their passengers happy, they must run a decent ship. Plus, look at that trunk.” They watched as a large, painted chest was brought onto the ship. It was decorated with gold accents and had small, brass feet on the bottom corners, to protect the chest’s painted bottom. “That’s the personal chest of a very wealthy fae. Those with money don’t trust just anyone to transfer themselves or their goods long distances. We want this ship,” Elain finished, looking pleased with herself.

“How do you know that’s the ship’s cook?”

“The grease stained apron and burn scars on his arms look convincing.”

Lucien hummed. “If you’re sure…”

But Elain was already off, moving towards the male wearing his dirty apron. “Tide’s blessings! We’d like to inquire about booking passage on this fine ship.”

“Main deck, talk to the female in the blue jacket,” the male said without looking at either Elain or Lucien. He gave a grunt of dismay when he opened a black tin overflowing with a red powder. “And where is my Raskian paprika, Szechka? I know authentic Raskian paprika straight from the fields when I see it, and this shit isn’t it.”

Leaving the angry cook and his stuttering supplier, the pair walked up the sturdy gangway to the ship’s main deck. It was controlled pandemonium, much like the state of the dock: faes hurriedly carrying supplies and parcels onto the boat, performing last minute cleanings and mending. Lucien looked up to see a small winged fae hovering in midair while carefully patching a hole in the main sail.

It took them several moments to find the female. Shorter than even Elain and even slighter, the Lesser Fae had light gray skin and black hair. She stood near the helm, watching the movement of every being on the ship with a keen eye. A cracked, brown leather notebook was in her slightly scaly hands, and she occasionally jotted something down in the book.

“Tide’s blessings,” Lucien said, approaching the woman. She looked up at them with wholly black, narrowed eyes. “We were told to speak with you concerning booking passage for ourselves on this ship.”

“Aye, I’m the one you’d wish to speak with.” The woman’s voice was soft and wispy, each word floating away on the sea breeze as soon as it left her thin lips. “We’re set to leave tomorrow morning, making our way down the coast to a neutral village in the mortal lands then back north, along the eastern and northern coasts of Prythian to arrive in Hybern 43 days after settling out.”

Lucien kept his face blank, though the ship being bound for Hybern unsettled him. Rhys was right, that the Continental Fae were indeed more comfortable with Hybern than previously thought. “Are you planning on stopping at the Slevibor Islands while making your way down the coast to the mortal lands?”

The Slevibor Islands were several small, nearly uninhabited islands along the western coast of the Continent, due west from Koschei’s Lake. The islands were near the start of the river that he and Elain would take to get to the death god’s lake. Only one small port town, rumored to be filled with dangerous pirates, occupied the islands, though perhaps the rumors held some truth to them, based on the way the Lesser fae’s eyes widened. “We weren’t planning on stopping at Slevibor, no. Very few reputable ships do.”

“And is there any way we could convince the captain to make a special trip?” Lucien asked, subtly flashing his full coin purse at the female.

The fae pursed her lips. “Interesting that two faes from Prythian need to visit the Slevibor Islands so badly that they’re willing to pay extra for the trip.”

“Nothing that interesting, just doing a bit of travel.”

The female gave a noncommital ‘humph’ and opened her aged notebook and a quill. “Spring Court, I’m assuming?” she asked, not looking at either of them. “You, especially,” she pointed at Elain, “have the look of Spring about you.”

Elain blushed, but Lucien had to admit the fae was correct: Elain looked as fresh and innocent as many of the Spring Court nobility, especially with her wide, brown eyes and lovely hair. “Er, that’s right,” Lucien said eventually when he realized both Elain and the fae female were looking at him expectantly. “We’re from Spring. How could you tell?”

“My mother was originally from Spring.” The female continued taking notes down in her book, the quill resting against the webbing between her fingers. “She fled shortly after the old High Lord was murdered and the new one ascended. She could see the writing on the wall about the new High Lord, knew nothing good was to come from him. From what I hear from the waters, she was correct, and my sisters who remain are not prospering like they once did.”

Lucien started. Of course the female was at least part water-wraith. He knew little about the treatment of Lesser fae in the Continent, but if it was anything like Prythian, the fact that this female appeared to have a high ranking position on the ship meant she had beaten many prejudices to get this far. Unease at hearing someone talk so crudely yet accurately about Tamlin—at one time, his dearest and only friend in the world—settled low in his gut.

“My father was a merchant,” the female went on conversationally, seeing the earlier surprise in Lucien’s face. “I was born on his ship—this ship, in fact—and inherited it when he retired. Decades now.” She tapped on her notebook with her quill and looked up at them from the corners of her eyes. “How much coin do you have?”

Lucien told her, and though the female tried to remain stoic, he could smell her excitement at the sum. “We won’t stop at Slevibor, but I can have some crewmembers row you two to the Islands, provided you both pack light. No trunks. Meals are included while you’re on the boat. Depending on our timing, we may even be able to send you off with some provisions, but no promises. We’re tight on space, but I’ll find room for two extra hammocks. Any questions?”

Elain and Lucien had none, and the woman smiled, her mouth full of pointed teeth. “Then let me welcome you to the Eueteria. My name is Thetis, and I’ll be your captain. What are your names?”

Lucien and Elain provided fake names to Captain Thetis. “Oran and Phoebe,” she said, adding their names to an already long list of others. “Reason for travel?”

“Uh,” Lucien began. He didn’t think anyone would particularly care why he and Elain were joining the ship, as long as they paid, so he didn’t have a specific backstory planned. “We’re… um…”

“On our honeymoon!” Elain gave Captain Thetis a wide, eager smile at the same time she forcefully grabbed Lucien’s arm. “Newly married. Oran here,” Elain said, squeezing Lucien’s arm for dear life, “knows it’s my life’s dream to visit every inch of the Continent and like a good…husband…he’s giving me the best wedding present I could have dreamed of!”

Lucien was positive that their new captain did not believe them. “Alright,” Thetis said slowly, looking between Lucien and Elain’s flushed and awkwardly smiling faces. “I’ll put ‘pleasure’ as your reason for travel.”

Lucien was sure his face was as red as his hair for several minutes after they provided a deposit and were given instructions for the next morning. They left the docks, each refusing to look at each other, and made their way back into town, all while Lucien wondered: why?

Why had Elain said they were newly married? She had made it clear to him that she wasn’t interested in him in that way, even if her body sometimes thought otherwise. Perhaps she simply panicked—loath as he was to admit it, the cover story of two besotted, hapless fae on their honeymoon was a decent explanation for why there were traveling alone together.

It probably didn’t even matter, Lucien thought as they stopped at a colorful flower market. Based on the long list of people already traveling on the boat, he and Elain would be lucky to each have their own hammock in the large shared sleeping quarter. Nothing would happen. They would be on the ship for just a few days, get to the Slevibor Islands, then make the arduous journey along the river that would take them directly to Koschei’s Lake.

Directly to the most dangerous being perhaps in the world.

#elucien #lucien vanserra #elain archeron #elucien fanfic #lucien x elain #my fics #my fic #acotar #guess who's back #with worldbuiling #if there are any errors or issues #you didnt see them

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simadillo · 1 year

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family reunion | the world's most interesting uncle

frequently disappears for months at a time only to return with a backpack full of bizarre souvenirs and a few new scars. if you're really lucky, he'll tell you the stories of how he got them.

family reunion challenge by @faerie-tempest

#i kinda love him #sims family reunion #ts4 #sims 4 #ts4 cas #sims 4 cas #ts4 challenge #sims 4 challenge #ts4 cas challenge #sims 4 cas challenge #the sims 4 #the sims 4 cas challenge #simsfamilyreunion

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faerietempest · 1 year

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hi! just wanted u to know that i really appreciate ur black history challenge. i'm a black simmer who enjoys historical challenges, but it'd always be so difficult to engage bc they were so obviously white-focused. so i just really appreciate you 💖💖

This is so sweet, 🥹🥰 thank you anon

#anon ask #faerie tempest answers

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francesderwent · 4 months

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I read 32 new books this year, and will probably finish the 33rd this evening! and on top of that, I reread at least 34 books that I can remember (Modern Faerie Tales/Darkest Part of the Forest/FOTA, The Hero and the Crown, Scorpio Races, Scholomance, P&P, most of the Wimsey books, most of L&C, Assassin's Apprentice, Ronan of Rin, THG), for a grand total of 67!

new book list under the cut, books I would recommend marked with an asterisk:

*Royal Assassin, Robin Hobb Tempests and Slaughter, Tamora Pierce The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, Suzanne Collins *Classic Scrapes, James Acaster *The Monsters We Defy, Leslye Penelope *Lord Peter Views the Body, Dorothy Sayers Arrows of the Queen, Mercedes Lackey *A Shilling for Candles, Josephine Tey *Busman’s Honeymoon, Dorothy Sayers Queen of Blood, Sarah Beth Durst Nine Liars, Maureen Johnson *The Mysterious Affair at Styles, *Murder on the Links, Agatha Christie Mistborn & The Well of Ascension, Hero of Ages, Brandon Sanderson Jennifer the Damned, Karen Ullo *Midnight for Charlie Bone, Jenny Nimmo *The Stolen Heir, Holly Black *The Outlaws Scarlett and Browne (Being an Account of Their Daring Exploits and Audacious Crimes), Jonathan Stroud Vespertine, Margaret Rogerson *Piranesi, Susanna Clarke *The Screaming Staircase, *The Whispering Skull, *The Hollow Boy, *The Creeping Shadow, & *The Empty Grave, Jonathan Stroud *Small Spaces, Katherine Arden *Anne of Windy Poplars, L.M. Montgomery *The Bodyguard, Katherine Center *Woodwalker, *Ashes to Fire, & Creatures of Light, Emily B. Martin

#cate reads #if I miscounted. that is not surprising bc I am an idiot

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switch · 2 months

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i’m almost at level 200 on my battledome pet, and it’s dawning on me that because the training time hits 24 hours then, it takes roughly 50 days just to get through the final stretch, maybe i get like one kitchen quest level up every other day best case. and that’s not even to finish, that’s just to get an arbitrary number high enough unlock reds so i can go back to training his actual worthwhile stats at reasonable time/cost. god. i sure hope they don’t start that stupid new plot anytime soon.

they keep giving out codestones and weapons and shit for people to “prepare for the plot” but only so much can be done when the timesink is this insane, depending on when they plan on releasing it. and i’m lucky my pet started at a higher-ish level, i can’t imagine how someone who’s just starting now could even be ‘ready’ in time. heck, even being able to unlock tempest, which is specifically used by players who are too weak for extremely strong BD bosses and have to slowly cheese them, is level 250! plus, this is all being compounded by the fact that one of the stats which you can get raised by faerie/kitchen quest legitimately does nothing and is just a waste of time! jeez. i do not think they’ve sufficiently thought through introducing another plot if they’re trying to onboard new people without adjusting a single one of these elements.

#switch speaks #neopets

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thebramblewood · 1 year

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I've seen this CAS challenge by @faerie-tempest going around, and I thought it was cool but wasn't feeling very inspired. However, I then fell unexpectedly in love with Helena after creating her and decided to make her a whole family, and they ended up fitting a few of the prompts. So this post is also the official introduction of the Zhaos! They're in a new save that's going to be my place to be experimental and fun and casual and basically do whatever I want while taking a break from my legacy. Helena will be the main focus since she's off to college soon, and I'm really excited to share more of her life!

Thanks to @pinkberrysims, @katverse, @starrysimsie, @ratboysims, and @helgatisha for the poses!

#sims family reunion #simsfamilyreunion #ts4 #ts4 gameplay #sims 4 #sims 4 gameplay #the sims 4 #s4 #ts4 screenshots #ts4 screencaps #if you're a follower you MAY recognize her #or maybe you don't and her future will be a real surprise for you!#the zhaoverse #helena zhao #julia zhao #andrew zhao #rose keller-zhao

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mask131 · 9 months

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A fantasy read-list: B-1

Part B: The First Classical Fantasy

1) On one side, the British Isles...

We looked at the most ancient roots of the fantasy genre, which are... well, literaly antique roots - the texts of the Antiquity, the myths and mythologies of the world, the legends of the so-called “pagans” and the tales of long-gone societies, cultures and civilizations. Plus the true, literal “medieval fantasy” and some Arthuriana sprinkled at the top. Now I want to explore the Renaissance fantasy - or rather the first wave and apparition in literature of true “proto-fantasy”. These classical works that are still heavy influences and inspirations on modern fantasy pieces, but are younger than all the mythological and medieval stuff.

Given this huge read-list promises to be very big, very long and span over several years, I will try to restrain myself here to two nation-tied phenomenon. And in this specific post I will look at a given wave of “classical proto-fantasy” in the British Isles... Beginning with none other than...

# Shakespeare. William Shakespeare, the Bard of Avalon, the greatest playwright of England and a man whose work shaped our common imagination and popular culture today. Of course, since this list is focused about the wide genre of fantasy, I must start by listing his more openly supernatural and fantastical plays. On one side you have a lighter, more colorful and whimsical world of wonders and magic, in the shape of supernatural comedies, be it A Midsummer Night’s Dream, with its now world-known depiction of the fairy court as the Titania-Oberon-Puck triangle, or The Tempest, which implanted archetypal figures such as Prospero the wizard, Ariel the aerial spirit or the monstrous Caliban. On the darker side of fantasy, you have the grim and nightmarish tragedies that are Hamlet, one of the most famous cases of royal hauntings and madness in the history of theater, or Macbeth, which changed forever the way people view witches throught its iconic trio of Weird Sisters.

But the beautiful thing with Shakespeare is that even in his more “mundane” and “realistic” works, the magic never truly goes away. Thanks to his poetic writing and his love of symbolism and mysticism, Shakespeare maintains throughout his work a fantastical ambiance, an ambiguous tone that opens the door for many oniric sequences or supernatural readings. The description of Mab, queen of fairies, in Romeo and Juliet was just as influential on fairy folklore as A Midsummer Night’s Dream. The abnormal storm and pagan madness of King Lear leaves one wondering about the true cosmic powers at work here. And even in historical works witchcraft is never far away - such as with Richard III, where devilish forces and hellish characters are at play in an well-recorded historical event...

# But beyond Shakespeare, or rather all around him, there was a constellation of other poets and playwrights who helped conceive, flesh out and develop this “wonder-wave” that swept across Elizabethan England. Take Shakespeare’s most famous rival for example, Christopher Marlowe, who wrote The Tragical History of Doctor Faustus, the first ever adaptation of the Faust legend for the stage. You have Edmund Spenser and his mystical fay epic, The Faerie Queene, which influenced not just Shakespeare but many more authors of knight adventures and fairy works. I can also mention Michael Drayton’s Nimphidia, The Court of Fairy (or Nymphidia depending on how you write it), a poem drawing from Shakespeare’s fairy characters to depict all the affairs, treacheries and secrets at the otherworld’s court ; or the various Elizabethan retellings of Ovid’s Metamorphosis written by John Lily (Endymion, Midas, Galathea...).

# And of course, I have to point out here that beyond specific authors, Shakespeare’s fantastical works drew from a lot of various sources, all representing different fragments or aspects of the way people approached the supernatural, folklore and legends in their time. For example, the more Jacobean play The Witch by Thomas Middleton, which had elements reused for Macbeth ; or the Daemonologie of King James, which also influenced Shakespeare’s writing of demons and witches. I can also drop here names going from quite obscure today, such as The Spanish Tragedy of Thomas Kyd, to behemoths of culture, like Dante’s Divine Comedy.

# Speaking of a man of the Isles who explored and influenced the fairy literature... I have to mention Robert Kirk, and his treatise on fairies and ghost known as The Secret Commonwealth. To this day, Kirk is still considered one of the greatest folklorists and collector of supernatural tale and fairy/ghost/witch beliefs of the 17th century, and The Secret Commonwealth stays one of the major “fairy books”.

# Leaving a bit the topic of fairies, I will conclude this post with one name... Ossian. During the 18th century, James Macpherson discovered and translated ancient Gaelic texts of Scotland - a series of epic poems attributed to a legendary bard by the name of Ossian. He started by translating Fingal, An Epic Poem in Six Books, and then worked on Temora, An Ancient Epic Poem, before collecting it all as The Works of Ossian. This discovery and translated was a HUGE phenomenon, and a revolution in the world of culture. Up until that point, people had praised the Homeric epics and thought the “Homeric phenomenon” was a one-time thing that couldn’t have happened anywhere else but Ancient Greece... And yet here were these great, glorious, excellently done, epic poems of mythical heroes and ancient witchcraft and gods, attributed to a mythical god-inspired bard and poet, part of another form of Antiquity than the Greco-Roman one. People jubilated upon discovering the “Celtic Homer”, and praised these grea poems proving that the Greek epics could be challenged by Gaelic sagas...

... But the thing is that James Macpherson probably never translated those works, and that maybe Ossian was a purely fictional invention. You see, James Macpherson was a poet himself with not much success before “discovering” the works of Ossian, and he was deeply passionate about ancient Scottish poetry and Celtic texts and the like, collecting them and imitating them. Despite their enormous importance and influence for literary movements, and painters across Europe, and poets for centuries to come, the poems of Ossian are clearly artificial in nature, written by Macpherson alone without any “translation” required. The poet purposefully created a “Celtic Homer”, as a way to sell his work - and selling it did! Mind you, the Ossian poems stay true to the texts and essence of ancient Celtic legends and myths. Macpherson knew his sources, as I said was passionate about ancient Gaelic poetry, and he took inspiration and influence from works such as the Ulster cycle, the Fenian cycle, the Book of the Dun Cow, the Book of Lismore or The Yellow Book of Lecan... The very fictional character of Ossian was actually shaped after the mythological character of Oisin. But Ossian and his poems stay an artificial creation of an 18th century poet, even though they fit perfectly alongside antique Celtic texts. It is similar to how nowadays Titania is an integral part of fairy folklore, and yet she was a literary inventon of Shakespeare for one of his plays.

#fantasy #fantasy read-list #fantasy reading list #shakespeare #british literature #scottish literature #ossian #fairy folklore #fairies #william shakespeare #james macpherson #robert kirk #shakespeare plays #fairy poetry #fairy literature

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