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clanwarrior-tumbly · 8 months

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i love the pumpkin decor from anura and the skulls from silk cradle !! even though its not even close to halloween,,,(its always in my heart lmao) i was thinking about bishops (+narinder and/or labert, if your up for it) platonically with a child! black cat reader (who is kind of like in the spooky month skid and pump mindset LOL, but the town they grew up in, possibly outside the lands of the old faith, is very halloween-centered)

i hope this isnt too specific !!

Don't worry, Halloween's ALWAYS in my heart haha. I love those decorations too! And the ones from the blood moon ritual. Can't wait for that event again

.........

Heket

With pumpkin patches flourishing in her domain, it only makes sense for her to have celebrations and rituals surrounding the harvest season.

Yet she knows nothing of this "Halloween" you've rambled on about to her followers, nor why you became so excited upon discovering that Anura's environment reflects the autumn season.

That's because the town you're from is centered entirely around the holiday, with you living among ghouls, skeletons, demons, crows, and (of course) other black cats.

To you, every day is Halloween and you're loud and proud about it!

You introduced the idea of jack o'lanterns to Heket when she discovers you carving a pumpkin, sticking a candle inside after you gutted the entire crop, much to her confusion and annoyance.

"You there..why do you waste precious food?" She accuses, but you're completely oblivious to her anger.

"Where I come from, we always carve pumpkins! And we make cool things like this!" You show her your finished product: a Yellow Crown carved onto the face of the pumpkin. "I offer this to you, Lady Heket."

"I see, but...what am I to do with it?"

"You put it outside your home to ward off scary spirits! Like those who wanna wilt the crops!"

She had her doubts about these traditions of yours, but she grows to like this "jack of lantern" and puts it into effect almost immediately.

More followers join in, learning how to carve their own pumpkins and place them outside their homes.

It actually gives the incredibly superstitious and paranoid some comfort that they won't be haunted or plagued by negative spirits/energy.

Heket made a point to allow an overabundance of pumpkin patches during Halloween season so there's enough for both food and carving.

She also discovers people are willing to pay for the best-looking ones, so she allows the elders to run stands by the fields and make some coin.

Ofc, a good chunk of the profits go directly to her.

Shamura

Skull piles and skeletal decorations are commonplace in Silk Cradle, being trophies of wars and intimidating those who dared wander into their domain--grim reminders that it could be their own skull next.

You, however, find them nonthreatening as you've had similar decor back in your little town of Halloween (/ref).

Fake or not, you loved them all the same (plus the cobwebs, even though most are just part of the natural environment) and had to ask Shamura if Halloween was celebrated all year here, too.

Although their brain struggles to recollect things, they have books on holidays and their ancient origins..so they are aware it exists.

But it's not one they ever cared to implement.

Nevertheless, they permit you to decorate your home to your heart's content with whatever skulls and bundles of silk you found--as well as pumpkins shipped from Anura.

They're nicer to you bc you remind them of Narinder back in his youth, fascinated with the spooky and the taboo.

All the giant axe traps and toxic pits scattered throughout Silk Cradle never bothered you, as you've seen them back in the spooky dungeons of your hometown.

Usually the resident bugs would freak out any newcomer shelling in new traditions..but Shamura told them that you, specifically, are not to be harmed under any circumstance and that they allowed this.

You've actually befriended Hauras, sewing them a spidery Halloween cape for them in place of the gray rags they wore.

They wear it with pride to every sermon from there on, not caring who judges.

Kallamar

This bishop's paranoia is a force to be reckoned with.

Even if one hapless follower said the words "red crown" in any context, he'll strike them down for "preaching heresy". He's easily scared of the taboo and misfortune falling into his realm.

So Halloween is definitely the last thing he wants to hear about, especially with its association of black cats (who are in turn associated with bad luck and Narinder).

He keeps trying to shoo you away when you try explaining that's a common myth.

If he sees you using bones and skulls as decorations, he feels sick to his stomach and orders you to take them down.

Those can be used to forge weapons or intimidate potential dissenters! They're not yours to keep!!

Yet you never listen, oblivious to his demands as you try telling him they're harmless.

Would he ever punish you for disobeying with sickness or sacrifice?

No...or at least not at this stage in your life.

That would damage his already-fragile reputation as a leader even further.

But if you grew up into an elder and continued with these "twisted traditions", however, he'd punish you as retribution for the "torment" you've brought upon him.

He just wishes you'd follow his ways and his ways alone.

Fortunately for you, that retribution never comes as he's brought into Lamb's cult during your teen years...with you keeping the Halloween tradition alive and well.

And Kallamar has a more open mind now, although he's still easily spooked by the decor Lamb brings out during the Blood Moon Festival.

The first time he partakes in it, someone pranked him with a fake ear and it traumatized him so bad he cried and hid inside his shelter.

But you comforted him, forgoing the festivities and sharing your candy until he was okay.

You just show him how to carve a jack o'lantern for the remainder of the night, and he's in awe as it glows.

Every year since, Halloween becomes less and less scary for him--and it's all ironically thanks to you.

Leshy

As a young bishop, he's open to ideas for traditions, holidays, etc. for his followers to enjoy.

So when little kitty cat you hailing from a distant land of Halloween propose celebrating it...he's all for it!

The only problem is, well, his sight.

With the Green Crown, he can see the general forms of followers, his siblings, and most structures within Darkwood, but he wouldn't be able to see the tiny details that gave Halloween its magic.

But you explained how you could go for bigger and brighter things. Like jack o'lanterns (made of both pumpkins and turnips) and skulls of giant beasts!

He approves of it and lets you lead in decorating the village nearest to his temple.

Followers initially questioned why they had to listen to a child, of all folks, but they're grateful it's something genuinely fun.

From your town, you've also brought scented candles to really enhance everybody's spooky spirit.

Especially for your Lord Leshy, who finds the smells delightful.

The pumpkin spice ends up becoming his favorite.

You've got him completely fixated on this event.

Plus it's a good opportunity for chaos to reign: with followers pranking one other and scaring each other half to death, dressing up like ghouls and skeletons.

The Bonfire Ritual is one Leshy likes to conduct to boost both his strength and cult morale (he's gotta benefit from all of this somehow too, of course).

Lamb

Not only did Lamb's cult know about Halloween...but they also celebrated it with the Blood Moon Festival.

You fully participated in the ritual every year, rushing outside just in time to see the moon turn blood-red and the sky darken for several days.

The ghosts of deceased followers usually terrified the living, yet you greeted all of them with smiles, waving goodbye as Lamb exorcised them with their book.

Crows, cattle skeletons, and even demons flocked to the cult as well, having been residents of your hometown, too.

And the decorations?????

You were obsessed and jumping for joy, wanting to decorate your little shelter and help everybody else with theirs!

And of course you participated in the many activities going on, including bonfire rituals, apple bobbing, and passing out soul cakes (yep you had a recipe for that from your hometown, too).

One year, Webber showed up and was initially scared since everyone was just staring at them and the spiders scattered around their feet..

But you greeted them warmly, showing them around the cult grounds and what the festival was all about.

Lamb themselves is impressed.

You're only half the age of most of their followers, yet you're active and very responsible (although only if your tasks have anything to do with Halloween).

So as a gift, they bless you with a jack o'lantern necklace. Not only does it light up at night, but its magical properties allowed you to lift up any pumpkin no matter its size with ease!

You vow to carve the biggest jack o'lantern the Old Faith's ever seen.

#clanask #anonymous #cult of the lamb x reader #cotl x reader #bishop heket #bishop shamura #bishop leshy #bishop kallamar #cotl lamb #child reader #cat reader #platonic #headcanons #halloween

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libertarian-druid-in-greater-vt · 3 months

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So it turns out there's quite a few dead malls out in the Midwest. I'm thinking if I could get roughly $2.5 million, I could buy out a mall, then convert it to serve its original purpose with affordable housing with absolute minimal government involvement. I get my agreed upon rent (tbd based on location, likely half the median) and pay back my investors in full plus a 25% additional ROI to get full rights to the land adjusted for inflation. And with most malls having fuckhuge lots, maybe make part of it just for more private tiny homes with included solar arrays and maintenance in exchange for a higher rate. Single folks and childless couples would have enough space to live comfortably, and I'd end up making enough to maintain the building, plus there'd still be a food court, which would save residents money on delivery, as well as provide additional rent made affordable for businesses just starting up with decent products.

Basically a covenant community with no restrictions on anything but fucking with other people's property and the law imposed by the state if you're caught doing something you "shouldn't" be. And ofc I'd live there myself to ensure it's maintenance and that nobody breaks the rules in their lease.

Housing gets a little cheaper and I make a little profit after maintenance and upkeep. It's an actual win win. The only people that might lose are the landlords that refuse to lower their own rent, but that's their business and not mine.

Hell, maybe someday I could get permits to expand the mall and create more low cost housing, the new units would need a slightly higher price to make up the cost, but it's far from impossible to do so long as it's stable income.

And I'm putting this out there in a tumblr post in case anyone has got someone that would invest in this sort of project that wants to make a big difference in a community and a little extra cash.

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anxiousstark · 6 months

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A Lull in Our Symphony | E. M

Eddie x Deaf!Reader (cochlear implant). Word Count: 2k Genre: Fluff and cosy vibes. A/N: This was going to be a brief post, but here it is. I had a dream about it and couldn't get it out of my head. I looked into ASL and cochlear implants. I hope I was able to correctly and respectfully represent it. This was inspired by a dream I had and numerous videos I'd seen online about how people take breaks from wearing their cochlear implants. All Rights Reserved. The author, me, does not allow any type of copy or adaption. BIG MASTERLIST

Eddie walked through the door of his trailer after another day of tinkering at the repair shop, expecting the usual warmth and familiarity that awaited him. But today, something felt amiss. The living room light had inexplicably gone dark. It was an unusual sight because, typically, he would find you nestled beneath a soft blanket, absorbed in the glow of the television.

Eddie couldn't help but admire the graceful way you watched those programs. The square television set was notorious for its fickle signal, often reducing the picture to black-and-white and distorting the sound. Yet, amidst these technical hiccups, there you were, radiating joy, arms wide open, eager for a hug or a loving embrace.

He'd occasionally try to escape, claiming he was sweaty and smelling of oil. But you had a knack for sidling up to him, playfully reminding him of the wonders of a shared shower. After a few minutes or even hours of cradling each other, you both would leap into the shower, washing away the day's grime and worries.

So, on this particular evening when Eddie entered the trailer and didn't find you in your usual spot, a sense of uncertainty and discomfort washed over him. He wondered if you were perhaps feeling unwell, and that thought weighed heavily on his mind.

Eddie carefully placed his keys on a small porcelain dish perched atop the television, ensuring they made no noise as they settled on the surface. He didn't want to disturb you. With the same intent, he removed his work boots and lined them up by the front entrance.

Stealthily, he moved to the kitchen, opened the fridge, and grabbed a can of soda, downing it hastily as if his throat had transformed into a desert. The shock of the cold rushed through him, which was strange considering the refrigerator's unreliable cooling. More than once, he had been forced to discard spoiled food due to its fluctuating temperatures.

After disposing of the empty soda can, Eddie made his way to the shared room he and you called your own, all the while reminiscing about the day you had moved in with him and Uncle Wayne. In this tiny trailer, space was scarce, but it was a temporary haven. He knew that you both had dreams of a more secure and spacious flat in the future, something that would truly be home. But, for now, this trailer served as your residence, shared with Uncle Wayne.

Eddie's brow furrowed with confusion as he stood before the locked bedroom door. He gently rapped on it three times, a familiar signal to let you know it was him. However, this time, there was no response. It was then that realization slowly crept over him. The absence of your welcoming presence in the dimly lit living room, combined with his bedroom door shut tight, tugged at his heartstrings. His heart ached as he began to piece together what had happened.

Eddie cautiously pushed the door ajar, just enough to slip through, careful not to intrude on your privacy. His hand fumbled in the dim light, finding the switch, and he began to flash the lights on and off, a silent signal that he was there. A soft voice permitted his entry.

Inside the room, you lay on the shared bed, clad in nothing but a pair of silky pink panties and one of his countless Hellfire T-shirts. The bedsheet, a gentle embrace for your feet, formed a delicate, artistic mess. Eddie couldn't help but be captivated by your beauty as he entered the room, his heart silently echoing the question, "How did I ever get so lucky to catch your attention?" If only he knew how fortunate you felt to have captured his heart.

Eddie moved further into the room, a warm smile gracing his lips as he noticed the slight pout on yours.

Eddie quietly shed his jacket and shirt, feeling a slight shiver pass through his body, whether due to the temperature shift or the intensity of your gaze, which explored his exposed chest and abdomen. It wasn't a look of desire, but rather one filled with admiration and respect. The love shining in your eyes conveyed a multitude of unspoken emotions.

Eddie continued undressing, removing his pants and socks until only his boxers remained. As he neared the bed, you raised your right arm, revealing a hair tie encircling your wrist. Eddie took it gently, his fingers brushing against your skin, and used it to secure his hair into a tousled, low ponytail.

His affectionate gaze traveled over your body, from your covered toes to your eyes. Then he extended his non-dominant hand, palm up, and used his dominant hand to tap his non-dominant hand's fingers several times. He furrowed his brow, widened his eyes, and conveyed a sense of frustration and concern on his face, underlining the emotion. "Overwhelmed?" A simple nod was your response, and he didn't need to look far to notice your cochlear implant resting on the side table next to the shared bed. Eddie understood the challenges you faced, and he often felt a profound sense of helplessness whenever he saw you struggling with agitation, fear, or the overwhelming sounds surrounding you.

Eddie's pout deepened, and he moved his open hand in a small circular motion near his chest, palm facing downward. Then, he formed a "B" handshape by tucking his thumb into his palm and extending his index and pinky fingers. He gently pressed the "B" handshape against his cheek, gradually moving it lower, as if caressing his cheek with his fingertips, conveying a heartfelt "I'm sorry, baby."

In response, you mouthed, "It's okay," reluctant to shift your hands or speak aloud. Eddie couldn't bear to see you in such distress. He vividly remembered that night when you had sat weeping on the bathroom floor, overwhelmed by the cacophony of new sounds you had never heard before. You had confided your fear of never getting accustomed to them and feeling ungrateful.

With a soft sigh, Eddie's right hand gently squeezed your favorite spot on your thigh, seeking physical reassurance. He raised his eyebrows, displaying a puzzled expression. He brought his hand to his chin, palm facing upward, then moved it away from his chin, forming a loose "5" handshape with his fingers slightly apart. Next, he held his dominant hand in a "C" handshape, akin to the "OK" sign, and touched it to the back of his non-dominant hand, held in a "flat" or "B" handshape with the palm facing up. Finally, he pointed to himself with his index finger and positioned both hands in "5" handshapes, palms facing downward, moving them downward and outward, as if extending an offer of assistance. "How can I help?"

Eddie's eyes glistened as he closely observed your signs. You held your hands in a relaxed "5" handshape with palms facing each other, then brought them together as if softly caressing or cuddling something. You raised your eyebrows at the end of the sign, inquiring if he wanted to cuddle.

"Of course," he replied, this time articulating his words so that you could read his lips. Eddie had started tying back his hair when he began dating you, ensuring that his curls didn't obstruct your ability to understand him. "Do you want to talk about what happened first?"

As you began to sign passionately, conveying your frustration and anxiety, Eddie couldn't help but feel a twinge of embarrassment. He had only recently started learning American Sign Language (ASL) as soon as he found out about your deafness. Books and resources became his companions as he embarked on this journey to better communicate with you. Even now, he occasionally stumbled or forgot certain signs, but your patient instruction had brought him a long way in a short time.

After momentarily drifting into his thoughts, he snapped back to the present, noticing your shocked expression and your rapid signing. You could speak, but when stressed, you felt more at ease using signs, especially when communicating with someone who understood ASL.

Your explanation began to make sense to him. The fridge produced an unusual and terrifying noise, a sound Eddie and Uncle Wayne couldn't perceive. In your pre-implant life, placing items on surfaces didn't pose a concern, but the newfound ability to hear made even these mundane actions startling. While your hearing wasn't perfect, it exposed you to a world of sounds you had never known before. They occasionally frightened you, but more often than not, they overwhelmed you. Nevertheless, with each passing day, you were adapting, learning the sounds of your environment, and the process brought you a sense of satisfaction. There were sounds you cherished, like the flowing river, the chirping bird that Eddie complained about every morning, and the wind rustling through the trees. But nothing could compare to the beauty of Eddie's voice.

Eddie's voice was like a soothing balm for your soul, a comforting sensation akin to a honey candy soothing a sore throat.

Eddie let out another sigh, this time one of relief. Before he could even count to two, you pushed yourself on top of him. Your chest gently brushed against his midsection, and the absence of a bra strap digging into his ribs didn't go unnoticed. Your head nestled on the crook of his neck, your lips and breath sending delightful shivers across his skin.

Your left leg slid swiftly between his, and he almost let out a yelp as your knee ventured too close to his sensitive regions—luckily, you halted just in time to prevent any discomfort. It wasn't until you nestled close to him that his hands finally came into contact with you, a sign that you were comfortable and at ease in his arms.

Eddie's left arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you in as close as humanly possible. His other hand embarked on a gentle, exploratory journey, tracing a path from the back of your knee to your upper thigh. His fingertips brushed against the band of your underwear, daring to slip underneath for a brief, tantalizing moment before continuing their exploration. His hand ventured beneath your shirt, gently grazing the tender underboob area for a few moments before finally resting on the back of your head. The pads of his fingers returned to those regions that used to ache when you were overwhelmed by sounds, and he began massaging them with tender care.

The sounds of your pleasure and relief brought a chuckle from Eddie, the vibrations of his laughter reverberating through your body. He understood your unspoken desire as you placed your hand on his chest.

Eddie began humming his favorite tune, a love song he had composed. It was a beautiful melody with a captivating guitar solo that allowed him to shine even brighter. Its title? Your name. You relished the vibrations against your hand and chest.

Eddie chose to sing one of his favorite parts with such intensity that you could feel the vibrations coursing through his chest even though you couldn't hearthe words.

Your touch, a lightning strike, fierce and bold,

A symphony of chaos, a story to be told.

Through the darkest night, you're my eternal guide,

In your arms, my restless heart finds where to confide.

He continued humming, gently urging your head to rise, meeting his loving gaze. Eddie's smile beamed as he brought his head closer to yours, allowing his lips to meet yours in a tender dance of kisses. Their pace was unhurried, and soft sighs passed between you as your lips caressed each other. The kiss gained a touch of passion as his lips captured your lower lip. Eddie's palm roved over as much of your skin as it could reach, and his tongue entered your mouth, eliciting a gasp from him as the kiss deepened.

"I love you," you whispered, your lips still moist from the shared kiss.

Eddie began to respond, but you quickly pressed your palm against his mouth, guiding your body toward the side table and retrieving your cochlear implant. Once it was securely in place, you removed your hand from his mouth and signaled for him to speak, "Now."

Eddie smiled and, now that you could hear, replied, "I love you too." The words flowed freely and earnestly, knowing that you could finally hear them, and he revelled in the newfound connection they shared.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagines #eddie imagine #eddie fanfiction #eddie fanfic #eddie fic #eddie munson #stranger things x you #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things #eddie fluff #uncle wayne

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cece693 · 18 days

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Monster in the Making (Will Graham x Male! Lecter)

Hey :) I know I haven't uploaded much, but life has gotten in the way. So, to jump back into writing, I've decided to write something about my favorite murder husband, Will. What was meant to be something short turned into (possibly) my longest post yet.

Summary: The Lecter siblings were obsessed with Will Graham but for entirely different reasons. While Hannibal wanted to deconstruct the puzzle that was the detective, M/N wanted Will to be his.

tags: jealousy, possessiveness, m/n being a little shit, Will indulges him, why can't they just talk it out like normal adults, oh yeah 'cause one's a murderer in the making and the other is related to Hannibal :)

M/N Lecter was a mirror image of his elder brother, Hannibal: with sophisticated tastes and an appetite for human meat, it was their façades that set them apart. While both inherited a charisma unlike any other, it was M/N Lecter whose mask never slipped off. Unlike Hannibal who instilled an unconscious fear in people with his dominating and blunt persona, M/N preferred to play the role of the unsuspecting innocent.

He derived pleasure from allowing others to spin their own webs of deceit, all the while believing they had any significance in his life. Whether they be lovers, friends, or colleagues, no one was immune to his subtle influence. His manipulations were veiled behind gentle words and tender gestures, a feigned desire to enrich their lives until they found themselves isolated and reliant solely on M/N. This artful deception ensnared all whom M/N cast his gaze upon, until the arrival of Will Graham.

A detective with a peculiar gift that Hannibal simply dubbed ‘pure empathy’, Will immediately knew something was wrong with the Lecter siblings. His dark, almost onyx eyes perceived the monsters both Hannibal and M/N were, yet (he hated himself for saying this) there was a complexity to their darkness that intrigued him. So, despite the warning bells ringing in his mind, Will couldn’t help but be drawn to the siblings. Hannibal wanted to bring out Will’s own dark side, seeing a capable partner in the man who cloaked himself with a ruse of normality. But for M/N, he simply desired the man.

He couldn’t explain what about Will attracted him, but for the first time, M/N felt drawn to another being. He wanted to own the detective—his mind, heart, body. It was a puzzling revelation that M/N could even feel these things for another being.

"I assume you're pleased with my surprise," Hannibal whispered to M/N as the familiar sight of the detective's car pulled into their driveway. The siblings had decided to host another dinner party, though with M/N's hectic schedule, the majority of the preparations fell upon Hannibal. This entailed cooking, setting the table, and sending out invitations—invitations M/N was not permitted to see.

M/N should have anticipated that Hannibal was scheming something, but he never imagined this. Developing feelings for the detective was one thing, but inviting Will into their home—a place that would undoubtedly unsettle the detective—angered him.

M/N couldn't pinpoint when his desire to possess Will shifted into protectiveness, but it was too late now. Hannibal had retreated to the kitchen, likely to evade M/N's impending wrath, leaving him alone to greet their newest guest. Slipping into character, M/N forced a smile as the detective's figure hesitated at the open door. "Mr. Graham." M/N greeted, his voice warm and friendly. "It's good to see you. Please, come in."

Will's gaze flickered from M/N to the grand interior of the Lecter residence, taking in the opulent furnishings and the faint aroma of culinary mastery wafting from the kitchen. Despite his reservations, there was a reluctant curiosity in his expression. "Thank you." Will replied, his tone guarded yet polite as he crossed the threshold. "I must admit, I didn't expect an invitation." And why would the Lecters invite him? Will was hardly good company, always managing to unsettle people with his personality.

Catching the subtle self-deprecation in Will’s words, M/N frowned. “Why wouldn’t we invite you, Mr. Graham? I find your company quite pleasant.”

Internally, M/N couldn't help but smirk at the reaction of his detective—the rosy hue that enveloped the tips of Will's ears, and the subtle shift in his demeanor as he lowered his head, avoiding M/N's gaze. M/N couldn't quite discern if Will was simply oblivious to his flirting or intentionally ignoring it, but either way, it stirred something inside him to see the effect he had on the guarded detective.

Not wanting to further embarrass the man, M/N turned on his heel and began guiding Will further into the house, towards the dining room where the rest of their guests were gathered. Some were engaged in lively conversations, their voices mingling in the air, while others took in the opulent surroundings, their eyes roaming over the intricate decorations and paintings adorning the walls.

M/N felt a surge of pride at the sight of the meticulously arranged table, adorned with fine china and gleaming silverware. The aroma of Hannibal's culinary creations wafted through the air, tantalizing the senses and adding to the air of anticipation that hung over the room.

"Please, make yourself comfortable." M/N told Will with a reassuring smile. “Dinner will be served shortly." Leaving the detective was the last thing M/N wanted to do, but he knew he had to fulfill his duties as a co-host and mingle with their other guests. With a lingering glance at Will, M/N reluctantly excused himself, promising to return shortly.

Watching M/N walk away, Will was taken aback by the unexpected pang of disappointment that washed over him. He knew M/N couldn’t stay by his side all night long, but a part of Will hoped he would. He and M/N had been playing a game as of late; one Will had been initially taken aback by but had quickly returned. Flirting—subtle, yet charged with an unspoken tension that seemed to crackle between them whenever they were together.

M/N had a way of getting under his skin, of teasing out the darker, more dangerous parts of himself that Will hadn’t known he even possessed. In M/N's presence, Will felt alive in a way he hadn't in years, his senses heightened and his inhibitions loosened. M/N Lecter had become his downfall—hell, M/N was all Will thought about these days.

As he watched M/N mingle effortlessly with the other guests, a wave of conflicting emotions washed over him. Will knew he should stay away, that getting too close to M/N Lecter would only lead to trouble. And yet, the allure of the forbidden was too strong to ignore, drawing him inexorably closer to the flame.

As the evening wore on, Will found himself retreating into the shadows, avoiding interactions with the other guests. The lively chatter and laughter only served to amplify his own sense of isolation. He didn’t belong here; all he wanted was to return home and snuggle against the warm fur of his dogs. But just as Will debated the possibility of slipping away unnoticed, a sudden burst of laughter echoed from behind him, pulling him from his thoughts.

As if summoned, Will’s gaze landed on M/N, who stood across the room, his charming smile directed towards a striking woman. She was elegant and poised, with cascading waves of chestnut hair that framed her delicate features. Her blue eyes sparkled with laughter and interest as she leaned closer to M/N, her hand resting upon his arm as they continued conversing.

The attraction between them was evident—the way the woman pressed herself against M/N, with the man doing nothing to stop such indecent action. Will couldn't tear his eyes away, a knot of jealousy tightening in his chest at the sight of M/N's easy rapport with the woman.

It was irrational, Will knew. He had no claim over M/N; no right to feel possessive or jealous. And yet, as he watched them, Will couldn't shake the resentment and betrayal that coiled within him, a bitter reminder of his insecurities and desires. For a brief moment, Will entertained the dangerous thought of intervening, of inserting himself into their conversation and reclaiming M/N's attention for himself. But he quickly dismissed the idea, knowing it would only make him appear foolish and desperate.

But that’s exactly what M/N wanted. He craved to unravel the layers of Will Graham's complex psyche, delve into the darker corners of his mind, and explore the depths of his desires. M/N wanted to see this other, darker side of Will, to witness the raw passion and intensity that lay beneath his stoic exterior. So when their eyes met across the room, M/N couldn’t help but smirk as he turned back to the woman on his side.

Helen was beautiful, in a conventional sort of way, but something was lacking in her presence that failed to capture his interest. Her conversation was dull and predictable, devoid of the spark and intrigue that he craved. So even as his whole body wrenched when her hands settled on his forearm, M/N forced himself to maintain the facade of polite interest.

He couldn't help but contrast her with Will Graham, whose mere presence ignited a fire within him that he struggled to contain. Will was enigmatic and complex, a puzzle waiting to be solved, while Helen was little more than a passing distraction—a shallow attempt at filling the void that only Will could satisfy. And as he stole another glance across the room, M/N couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation. Jealousy and anger were swimming in the detective’s eyes; he only needed one final push so they could both indulge in what they desired.

The tension between them crackled like electricity, a palpable force that hung heavy in the air. Will's gaze bore into M/N's, filled with a mix of longing and frustration that mirrored his own. It was as if they were locked in a silent battle of wills, each daring the other to make the first move. But M/N was done playing games. He wanted Will, and he wanted him now. With a sly grin, he leaned in closer to Helen, his voice dropping to a husky whisper as he murmured something in her ear. The effect was immediate. As Will stormed towards them, his eyes ablaze with fury, M/N felt a surge of satisfaction.

"Can we talk privately?” The detective hissed, not even sparing a glance at the woman.

“Of course.” M/N's response was measured and composed, his outward demeanor belying the inner excitement that churned beneath the surface. Sensing an opportunity to push the boundaries further, he delicately extricated himself from Helen's grasp and softly pressed his lips to her cheek.

“Please excuse us, darling.” He murmured, his voice like velvet, eliciting a blush from the woman and a frustrated huff from Will. Gesturing for the detective to follow, this exchange wasn’t missed by Hannibal, who smoothly redirected the attention of the other guests, allowing M/N and Will to slip away unnoticed.

The journey to M/N’s office was painful; in the sense that Will’s dark emotions only fueled M/N’s desire for the detective. With every step he took, M/N could feel Will’s presence like a blazing fire at his back, the heat of his breath sending shivers down his spine. Personal space seemed non-existent between them; with Will’s front nearly pressing against M/N’s back as they moved in lockstep. It took all of M/N's self-control to resist the urge to turn around and claim what he had long desired.

As they finally entered M/N's office, the weight of the locked door didn't escape Will's notice, but his focus was consumed by the fury pulsating through his veins. M/N's calm demeanor only served to stoke the flames of his anger further.

"What is it that you wished to speak of, Mr. Graham?" M/N's voice remained cool and collected, a stark contrast to the seething rage burning in Will's gaze. Allowing himself to be cornered against his desk, M/N maintained unwavering eye contact with the detective. Yet, despite the intensity of the situation, the corners of his lips turned upwards ever so slightly, mischief glimmering in his eyes.

Will's jaw clenched as he struggled to find the words, his chest heaving with pent-up emotion. "I want to know what you were doing with that woman," he finally managed to spit out, his voice low and charged with accusation.

M/N arched an eyebrow, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "And why does that matter to you?" he countered, his tone teasing yet tinged with a hint of challenge. His eyes held a gleam of amusement as he awaited Will's response; he might be pinned to his desk, but M/N still held the power. He was the one dictating what their encounter would result. Will’s expression softened, his features momentarily reflecting his more reserved nature. But then, to M/N’s surprise, a smirk ghosted across his face. "You're mine."

"Is that so?" M/N mused, "And what exactly does that entail, Detective Graham?"

Spurred by an unspoken desire, the detective's patience wore thin. Surging forward, Will captured M/N in a searing kiss, his hands finding a place on the other's hips to draw him closer. The kiss was electric, a fusion of pent-up longing and unspoken passion. At that moment, words became unnecessary as they surrendered to the heat of their mutual desire, lost in the intoxicating embrace of each other's lips.

M/N gripped Will’s curls, finding pleasure in hearing the sweet, husky moans the detective emitted. However, the need for air soon became undeniable, and with a deep, reluctant sigh, M/N drew away from the kiss. His chest heaved with the effort to regain his breath as he gazed into the detective's eyes once more. But instead of finding regret, as he had anticipated, M/N was surprised to see a glimmer of giddiness dancing in the depths of Will's gaze. Perhaps now it would be easier for the Lecter siblings to sway Will Graham into joining their murder family.

#x male reader #male reader #hannibal #nbc hannibal #hannibal lecter #will graham #slasher community #slasher fandom #jealousy

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menalez · 4 months

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this article is so illuminating and shows why so many of us believe this is a genocide-- according to the own words of IDF soldiers and israeli govt and their actions. they are admitting repeatedly that they sometimes target civilian areas and civilians and cultural heritage sites intentionally, knowing hamas is not there, in a twisted attempt of turning creating civil pressure on hamas.

Compared to previous Israeli assaults on Gaza, the current war — which Israel has named “Operation Iron Swords,” and which began in the wake of the Hamas-led assault on southern Israel on October 7 — has seen the army significantly expand its bombing of targets that are not distinctly military in nature. These include private residences as well as public buildings, infrastructure, and high-rise blocks, which sources say the army defines as “power targets” (“matarot otzem”). The bombing of power targets, according to intelligence sources who had first-hand experience with its application in Gaza in the past, is mainly intended to harm Palestinian civil society: to “create a shock” that, among other things, will reverberate powerfully and “lead civilians to put pressure on Hamas,” as one source put it.

theyre literally intentionally terrorising and killing palestinian civilians hoping it will somehow cause palestinians to somehow do the job of getting hamas for israel. instead of actually just.......idk.......trying to get hamas.

Several of the sources, who spoke to +972 and Local Call on the condition of anonymity, confirmed that the Israeli army has files on the vast majority of potential targets in Gaza — including homes — which stipulate the number of civilians who are likely to be killed in an attack on a particular target. This number is calculated and known in advance to the army’s intelligence units, who also know shortly before carrying out an attack roughly how many civilians are certain to be killed. In one case discussed by the sources, the Israeli military command knowingly approved the killing of hundreds of Palestinian civilians in an attempt to assassinate a single top Hamas military commander. “The numbers increased from dozens of civilian deaths [permitted] as collateral damage as part of an attack on a senior official in previous operations, to hundreds of civilian deaths as collateral damage,” said one source. “Nothing happens by accident,” said another source. “When a 3-year-old girl is killed in a home in Gaza, it’s because someone in the army decided it wasn’t a big deal for her to be killed — that it was a price worth paying in order to hit [another] target. We are not Hamas. These are not random rockets. Everything is intentional. We know exactly how much collateral damage there is in every home.”

the usage of "we are not hamas" to say that they are intentionally choosing to kill civilians instead of doing so at random is.. insane. "we are not hamas" should be followed by being more humane, not.. "we decided killing hundreds of palestinian civilians is worth it to get 1 single hamas member!"

According to the sources, the increasing use of AI-based systems like Habsora allows the army to carry out strikes on residential homes where a single Hamas member lives on a massive scale, even those who are junior Hamas operatives. Yet testimonies of Palestinians in Gaza suggest that since October 7, the army has also attacked many private residences where there was no known or apparent member of Hamas or any other militant group residing. Such strikes, sources confirmed to +972 and Local Call, can knowingly kill entire families in the process.

so, unshockingly, they are sometimes killing everyone within a building over some potential 1 hamas member, and sometimes there isnt a singular hamas member known in that building. so it could just be purely civilians being killed.

Another source said that a senior intelligence officer told his officers after October 7 that the goal was to “kill as many Hamas operatives as possible,” for which the criteria around harming Palestinian civilians were significantly relaxed. As such, there are “cases in which we shell based on a wide cellular pinpointing of where the target is, killing civilians. This is often done to save time, instead of doing a little more work to get a more accurate pinpointing,” said the source.

so they can be more accurate and precise with their attacks, as should be obvious for a highly sophisticated military, but they decide its better to just kill thousands of civilians if it saves them time.

From the first moment after the October 7 attack, decisionmakers in Israel openly declared that the response would be of a completely different magnitude to previous military operations in Gaza, with the stated aim of totally eradicating Hamas. “The emphasis is on damage and not on accuracy,” said IDF Spokesperson Daniel Hagari on Oct. 9. The army swiftly translated those declarations into actions.

The third is “power targets,” which includes high-rises and residential towers in the heart of cities, and public buildings such as universities, banks, and government offices. The idea behind hitting such targets, say three intelligence sources who were involved in planning or conducting strikes on power targets in the past, is that a deliberate attack on Palestinian society will exert “civil pressure” on Hamas.

they are deliberately destroying palestinian culture and history and society, hoping it will somehow create more pressure on hamas. 0 regard for palestinians' well-beings and safety and existence and they keep saying this over & over again

The final category consists of “family homes” or “operatives’ homes.” The stated purpose of these attacks is to destroy private residences in order to assassinate a single resident suspected of being a Hamas or Islamic Jihad operative. However, in the current war, Palestinian testimonies assert that some of the families that were killed did not include any operatives from these organizations. In the early stages of the current war, the Israeli army appears to have given particular attention to the third and fourth categories of targets. According to statements on Oct. 11 by the IDF Spokesperson, during the first five days of fighting, half of the targets bombed — 1,329 out of a total 2,687 — were deemed power targets.

so half of their targets were specifically intended to terrorise palestinian civilians and weren't actually attacks on hamas.

“We are asked to look for high-rise buildings with half a floor that can be attributed to Hamas,” said one source who took part in previous Israeli offensives in Gaza. “Sometimes it is a militant group’s spokesperson’s office, or a point where operatives meet. I understood that the floor is an excuse that allows the army to cause a lot of destruction in Gaza. That is what they told us. “If they would tell the whole world that the [Islamic Jihad] offices on the 10th floor are not important as a target, but that its existence is a justification to bring down the entire high-rise with the aim of pressuring civilian families who live in it in order to put pressure on terrorist organizations, this would itself be seen as terrorism. So they do not say it,” the source added.

the goal of their destruction of residential buildings isn't even about getting a hamas member who may or may not be there, its terrorism against palestinians.

Various sources who served in IDF intelligence units said that at least until the current war, army protocols allowed for attacking power targets only when the buildings were empty of residents at the time of the strike. However, testimonies and videos from Gaza suggest that since October 7, some of these targets have been attacked without prior notice being given to their occupants, killing entire families as a result.

unshockingly its as palestinians in gaza have been saying: they get attacked with no warning and countless civilian deaths occur as a result.

According to the Israeli army, during the first five days of fighting it dropped 6,000 bombs on the Strip, with a total weight of about 4,000 tons. Media outlets reported that the army had wiped out entire neighborhoods; according to the Gaza-based Al Mezan Center for Human Rights, these attacks led to “the complete destruction of residential neighborhoods, the destruction of infrastructure, and the mass killing of residents.” As documented by Al Mezan and numerous images coming out of Gaza, Israel bombed the Islamic University of Gaza, the Palestinian Bar Association, a UN building for an educational program for outstanding students, a building belonging to the Palestine Telecommunications Company, the Ministry of National Economy, the Ministry of Culture, roads, and dozens of high-rise buildings and homes — especially in Gaza’s northern neighborhoods.

Yet despite the unbridled Israeli bombardment, the damage to Hamas’ military infrastructure in northern Gaza during the first days of the war appears to have been very minimal. Indeed, intelligence sources told +972 and Local Call that military targets that were part of power targets have previously been used many times as a fig leaf for harming the civilian population. “Hamas is everywhere in Gaza; there is no building that does not have something of Hamas in it, so if you want to find a way to turn a high-rise into a target, you will be able to do so,” said one former intelligence official.

they admit they use the excuse of hamas to justify attacking overwhelmingly civilian areas.

Indeed, according to sources who were involved in the compiling of power targets in previous wars, although the target file usually contains some kind of alleged association with Hamas or other militant groups, striking the target functions primarily as a “means that allows damage to civil society.” The sources understood, some explicitly and some implicitly, that damage to civilians is the real purpose of these attacks.

According to the doctrine — developed by former IDF Chief of Staff Gadi Eizenkot, who is now a Knesset member and part of the current war cabinet — in a war against guerrilla groups such as Hamas or Hezbollah, Israel must use disproportionate and overwhelming force while targeting civilian and government infrastructure in order to establish deterrence and force the civilian population to pressure the groups to end their attacks. The concept of “power targets” seems to have emanated from this same logic. The first time the Israeli army publicly defined power targets in Gaza was at the end of Operation Protective Edge in 2014. The army bombed four buildings during the last four days of the war — three residential multi-story buildings in Gaza City, and a high-rise in Rafah. The security establishment explained at the time that the attacks were intended to convey to the Palestinians of Gaza that “nothing is immune anymore,” and to put pressure on Hamas to agree to a ceasefire. “The evidence we collected shows that the massive destruction [of the buildings] was carried out deliberately, and without any military justification,” stated an Amnesty report in late 2014.

Not only has the current war seen Israel attack an unprecedented number of power targets, it has also seen the army abandon prior policies that aimed at avoiding harm to civilians. Whereas previously the army’s official procedure was that it was possible to attack power targets only after all civilians had been evacuated from them, testimonies from Palestinian residents in Gaza indicate that, since October 7, Israel has attacked high-rises with their residents still inside, or without having taken significant steps to evacuate them, leading to many civilian deaths. Such attacks very often result in the killing of entire families, as experienced in previous offensives; according to an investigation by AP conducted after the 2014 war, about 89 percent of those killed in the aerial bombings of family homes were unarmed residents, and most of them were children and women.

However, evidence from Gaza suggests that some high-rises — which we assume to have been power targets — were toppled without prior warning. +972 and Local Call located at least two cases during the current war in which entire residential high-rises were bombed and collapsed without warning, and one case in which, according to the evidence, a high-rise building collapsed on civilians who were inside.

therefore palestinian civilians are being killed without even being given warnings, just for the sake of terrorising other palestinians and hopefully pressuring hamas.

Six days later, on Oct. 31, the eight-story Al-Mohandseen residential building was bombed without warning. Between 30 and 45 bodies were reportedly recovered from the ruins on the first day. One baby was found alive, without his parents. Journalists estimated that over 150 people were killed in the attack, as many remained buried under the rubble. The building used to stand in Nuseirat Refugee Camp, south of Wadi Gaza — in the supposed “safe zone” to which Israel directed the Palestinians who fled their homes in northern and central Gaza — and therefore served as temporary shelter for the displaced, according to testimonies.

so theyre also attacking "safe zones".

According to an investigation by Amnesty International, on Oct. 9, Israel shelled at least three multi-story buildings, as well as an open flea market on a crowded street in the Jabaliya Refugee Camp, killing at least 69 people. “The bodies were burned … I didn’t want to look, I was scared of looking at Imad’s face,” said the father of a child who was killed. “The bodies were scattered on the floor. Everyone was looking for their children in these piles. I recognized my son only by his trousers. I wanted to bury him immediately, so I carried my son and got him out.” According to Amnesty’s investigation, the army said that the attack on the market area was aimed at a mosque “where there were Hamas operatives.” However, according to the same investigation, satellite images do not show a mosque in the vicinity.

independent investigations are finding inconsistencies between IDF claims and reality.

According to the IDF Spokesperson, by Nov. 10, during the first 35 days of fighting, Israel attacked a total of 15,000 targets in Gaza. Based on multiple sources, this is a very high figure compared to the four previous major operations in the Strip. During Guardian of the Walls in 2021, Israel attacked 1,500 targets in 11 days. In Protective Edge in 2014, which lasted 51 days, Israel struck between 5,266 and 6,231 targets. During Pillar of Defense in 2012, about 1,500 targets were attacked over eight days. In Cast Lead” in 2008, Israel struck 3,400 targets in 22 days. Intelligence sources who served in the previous operations also told +972 and Local Call that, for 10 days in 2021 and three weeks in 2014, an attack rate of 100 to 200 targets per day led to a situation in which the Israeli Air Force had no targets of military value left. Why, then, after nearly two months, has the Israeli army not yet run out of targets in the current war?

Israeli analysts have admitted that the military effectiveness of these kinds of disproportionate aerial attacks is limited. Two weeks after the start of the bombings in Gaza (and before the ground invasion) — after the bodies of 1,903 children, approximately 1,000 women, and 187 elderly men were counted in the Gaza Strip — Israeli commentator Avi Issacharoff tweeted: “As hard as it is to hear, on the 14th day of fighting, it does not appear that the military arm of Hamas has been significantly harmed. The most significant damage to the military leadership is the assassination of [Hamas commander] Ayman Nofal.”

i did not share all of the article so u can feel free to read all of it but it just confirms what many of us know to be the horrific and cruel acts of the IDF.

#genocide #palestine #israel #free gaza

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kazumaple · 4 months

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born to die ꨄ haikaveh

art by @/mezudy678 on twt!!

tw | suicide ideation, death, alchoholism.

word count | 1,424 words ★ genre | angst, mentally ill kaveh, mental illness, major character death, au where haitham dies and kaveh is sad basically, kaveh is delusional, like in the traditional sense, depression/depression-like symptoms, me monopolising on lana del rey's lyrical genius<33

a/n | this has been sitting in my drafts for i kid you not over 6 months i think?!?! so yeah i just thought i should post it before the new year! i ruminated over the ending for so long but yknow new year new me so i just posted it. idk why i always make kaveh suffer but here is he suffering again. enjoy!?!?

link to my masterlist/how to request!

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

“I’ll be waiting for you in heaven, my love.”

The firm grip on Kaveh’s hand loosens as he feels his lover’s strength wane, taking not just his own, but Kaveh’s life force with it too.

No, no… just a little longer, please.

“But heaven is a place on Earth with you,” the blonde sniffles, embracing Alhaitham for the last time, “Don’t leave me…I still need you.”

A chuckle erupts from the man next to him, and at that moment, Kaveh wishes he could loop that sound and listen to it forever, to keep Alhaitham in a world of his own design, where they could live together in the grandest of castles, all designed by Kaveh himself.

He would construct them the most convenient house. Two study rooms for when they want to keep their distance from each other, a private library for Alhaitham, and a garden filled with all of Lesser Lord Kusanali’s creations, the plants being residents of the home just as much as Alhaitham and Kaveh would be.

Kaveh sees Alhaitham, chuckling as he does now, smiling at Kaveh, his face aged a little with time, small folds of skin wrinkling around his eyelids as he beams, his happiness radiating, forcing Kaveh to smile along with him. If only time would permit it. Alhaitham is smiling at Kaveh, and he thinks he’s never seen anything more beautiful in his life. He wants to sketch this moment to make it permanent. To cherish the final moments he has with his lover.

“You’ll be fine, Kaveh,” Alhaitham puts a hand under Kaveh’s chin, forcing the older man to meet his deep green eyes, “I love you.”

By this point, Kaveh’s vision is white, and he barely notices Alhaitham pull him for one last kiss until their lips touch. The kiss is gentle and delicate, too delicate for Kaveh’s liking. The lack of strength only serves as a reminder of his lover’s fading energy. Kaveh pulls away for breath, his golden locks now in disarray across his face, the crimson hairclips that once kept his elegant plait together now in mayhem.

“I love you too.”

Those are the last words Alhaitham hears before his vision fades, the silhouette of the man he loves the most looming over him, a teardrop the last thing he feels before he slips into the calming embrace of death.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Thoughts race across Kaveh's mind like a marathon, as if each thought had something of utmost importance to attend to, leaving the blonde highly disoriented. Even more disoriented than he would usually be at times like this, because at the moment, Kaveh has downed enough litres of alcohol to provide the weekly water intake of a family of 6.

It’s at times like this when he can’t keep his thoughts at bay. Kaveh tries his best. He really does. He tries his best to seem okay. To maintain the façade of normalcy ever since that fateful night. He goes to work, completes his commissions on time, eats all of his meals, and speaks to all of his friends. He meets Cyno and Tighnari every Saturday at Lambad’s tavern for a round of Genius Invokation TCG, his thoughts steering clear of the empty seat to his left. The seat which nobody would dare take after the loss of its original occupant.

Kaveh really does try.

But on nights like this, he can’t help but crack. When he comes home to nobody, no annoying, shrill voice to welcome him, nobody to nag him about his health or his rent. These are the moments when he feels truly lonely, the only reliable friend he can turn to being a tall glass of wine.

He sits alone in their usual spot. Top floor, at the back, so that people are less likely to find them. He knows Alhaitham can’t take people coming up to him after his work hours. Kaveh doesn’t mind. But this is just one out of the long list of habits Kaveh has kept after Alhaitham’s passing. No matter where he may be, heaven or hell, Celestia or Khaenri’ah’s ruins, a part of him will always live on through Kaveh. Always.

At some point, though, Kaveh stopped being alone. He started hearing him again. The gentle words of his lover wafting through his eardrums. At first, it was subtle. A few comments here and there.

“That client is a jackass.”

“Go to sleep, Kaveh.”

“Come on, love, you’ve got a meeting soon.”

But then it became ubiquitous. The sweet, honey-like voice of his deceased lover followed Kaveh around wherever he went. At first, Kaveh thought he was going insane. Now, he doesn’t care enough to worry.

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough, love?” A gentle voice fills his eardrums in an instant, a deep chuckle resounding with it, “Though I’d love to hold you again, I’d like you to live a long, full life before then. Preferably not dying of alcohol poisoning.”

Kaveh scoffs and crosses his arms, “I don’t have to listen to you! What are you doing to do anyway?”

The blonde hears a deep sigh, “I suppose you’re right. I can’t force you to go home, but it would make me very happy if you did.”

Kaveh, in his drunken stupor, actually considers this. With a clear head, Kaveh never would have considered this a valid argument. Kaveh will do what he wants. But alas, the hurricane engulfing his mind causes a lapse in judgment.

“Fine,” he says, begrudgingly, “Only if you cuddle with me when we get home.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal.”

Kaveh then gets up and stumbles out of the tavern, paying the bill off his own tab this time. He supposes a benefit of Alhaitham’s passing was that his wealth and estate were passed on to Kaveh. Though this by no means makes up for the gaping hole in Kaveh’s heart, he is happy with the convenience his newfound wealth has brought him.

The walk home passes in a daze, Kaveh blames this for his lack of comprehension, as by the time he's come to his senses, he’s tucked into bed, wrapped in the arms of Alhaitham once more.

He looks into his lover’s eyes. The orange islands in the sea of green standing out more than ever before. Alhaitham’s arms wrap around him protectively, and he feels the safest he has in months.

“Haitham,” Kaveh sniffles, “It’s been so hard without you here to guide me… I miss you… so much. Every time I think about you it feels as though somebody is ripping my heart out of my chest and stabbing it repeatedly with a knife.”

“C-Cant you come back to me?”

The soft sound of Alhaitham’s honey-sweet voice drips through Kaveh’s ears, “I’m here now, love. I’m here with you now, aren’t I?”

Kaveh groans, “I suppose so.”

“Let’s go to bed now,” Alhaitham whispers soothingly in Kaveh’s ear, “You have a big day ahead of yourself tomorrow.”

Kaveh lets the diluted voice of his lover lull him to sleep, his eyes getting heavier until they slide shut, and Kaveh surrenders to the deliria of dreaming for the night.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── ·

The sun streaks through the gap in the curtains, its rays hitting Kaveh’s face, illuminating his vermillion eyes as they blink open, the fatigue of sleep dissipating. The first thing he feels when he comes to his senses is the utter lack of warmth in his bed. The very bed itself becomes a black hole, Kaveh stumbling over himself to get as far away from it as possible. The very bed that was once the safe haven of him and his lover, turns into the very thing that seems to trap him.

H-He was just here.

The soft embrace of death feels more tempting than ever now. It would be easy for Kaveh to sink into it; his thoughts being engulfed by a soft lulling whisper, convincing him to let go of this world and all the pain it has caused. Nonetheless, he gets up. Brings himself to his feet. Walking towards the bathroom, he surveys the empty walls of his once lively house, accepting the soft, lonely numbness that has become a hallmark of his existence.

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girlactionfigure · 7 months

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On this day (Sept 28) in 1943, #German diplomat Georg Ferdinand Duckwitz secretly informed #Danish resistance that the #Nazis were planning to deport all Danish #Jews.

From there, #Denmark became the only #Nazi-occupied country in #Europe to make it a nationwide effort to actively resist the Nazis’ attempt to deport & exterminate its Jews.

The Danes organized to smuggle Jews by sea to neutral #Sweden – this is what made Denmark so unique. There were small numbers of incredible people willing to help save Jews even at great risk in every country, but only in Denmark was it a nationwide effort.

Nearly all of Denmark’s 8,000 Jews lived in #Copenhagen (which certainly made things easier for the Jews and the Danes who wished to help them since it was a mere 20 miles from the Swedish border).

First, the Danish people helped find hiding places for thousands of Jews in homes, hospitals, and churches.

Then, within just a few weeks, in a sort of "mini-#Dunkirk," Danish fishermen began ferrying Denmark’s Jews into Sweden (below).

The Danes managed to get about 7,500 Jews out of the country in time. The other 500 were sent to the #Theresienstadt ghetto in Czechoslovakia.

As a result of the efforts of regular Danish citizens, only 51 Danish Jews out of 8,000 were killed in the #Holocaust – a comparatively miniscule number to every other Nazi-occupied country.

Bulgaria Jews

Need to clarify on #Bulgaria because, sorry, but it does not belong in the same sentence as #Denmark for actions during the #Holocaust.

Yes, there were protests both for and against deportation of Bulgaria’s #Jews to #Nazi death camps, and most Bulgarian Jews survived the war, but the Bulgarian government still voluntarily passed anti-Jewish legislation and sent more than 11,000 #Jewish men, women, and children to their deaths at #Treblinka.

Though not as prevalent as in many other nearby countries, Bulgaria had a history of homegrown antisemitism, racism, and nationalism.

Therefore, even without #German pressure, starting in July of 1940, the Bulgarian government – on its own initiative – passed anti-Jewish legislation excluding Jews from public service, restricting places where Jews could live, & restricting Jewish participation in certain professions. The Bulgarian #racist laws also prohibited marriage between Jews and non-Jews.

Additionally, the Bulgarian government helped identify, register, and mark all of its Jews for the #Germans. Members of the Bulgarian police and Bulgarian military were trained and then used to round up and assemble Jews for “transport East.”

There were also many Bulgarian “Jew-hunters” who hunted down Jews in hiding for the #Nazis.

Then, in early March 1941, Bulgaria joined the #Axis powers and assisted the German-led attack on #Yugoslavia and #Greece. Bulgaria was then permitted by #Germany to occupy most of #Greek Thrace, Yugoslav Macedonia, and Pirot County in eastern #Serbia.

In the spring of 1942, the Bulgarian government commissioned a “Jewish Affairs Commissariat” to handle the deportation of all Bulgarian Jews to Nazi death camps.

Through 1942 and into the spring of 1943, the Bulgarian government continued cooperating fully with the Nazis.

First, Bulgarian officials rounded up and deported all Jewish residents from the territories they occupied in Greece and Yugoslavia. In just March of 1943 alone, Bulgarian officials sent 11,343 Jews to their deaths at Treblinka.

However, when news of the imminent deportations of Bulgarian Jews reached the capital, opposition politicians, Bulgarian intellectuals, and members of the Bulgarian clergy openly protested deporting any Jews from the core provinces of Bulgaria. They managed to delay the deportations.

However, in June of 1943, the Bulgarian government decided to expel 20,000 Jews from Sofia to the provinces, and Bulgarian police brutally suppressed protestors.

In just two weeks, the Bulgarian authorities expelled 20,000 Jews to the Bulgarian countryside where all males were put into forced-labor camps. Bulgarian authorities also confiscated most of the property of the 20,000 deported Jews. Nonetheless, most Bulgarian Jews at least ended up surviving the war.

But, after the war, Bulgarian Jews did not feel welcome any longer and wished to return to Eretz Israel.

By 1950, nearly all the pre-war 50,000 Bulgarian Jews had made Aliyah and immigrated to Israel.

The Zionist longing to immigrate to Eretz Israel was strong among Bulgarian Jews, and many attempted to flee for #British Mandate #Palestine before and during the War.

For a time, Bulgaria permitted its Jews to immigrate to British Mandate Palestine; however, the British enforced their illegal White Paper of 1939 and closed the doors to Jewish immigration throughout the entirety of the War.

So, just after the war started, on Sept 2, 1939, when a ship with 1,400 Jewish refugees from Bulgaria, #Poland, #Romania, and #Czechoslovakia landed at #TelAviv, British soldiers met them with guns and shot and killed two of them.

After that, the British Foreign Office warned Bulgaria that if it allowed any further ships of Jewish refugees to British Mandate Palestine, the British will “expect the Bulgarian government to take the immigrants back.”

But in November of 1940, a ship called the Salvador, set out from Varna, Bulgaria with 200 Jewish refugees – including 70 children – on board.

Shortly thereafter, on Dec 12, 1940, the Salvador sunk in the Sea of Marmora. There were no survivors, and all 200 Jewish refugees drowned.

Captain Allen

#OTD #Denmark #Bulgaria #Holocaust #Jews

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herrscherofsentence · 1 year

Text

Raine Whispers and male/adopted son reader

〜☆

Summary; You were just a regular bard whose magic came at a young age. Your parents ended up passing away while you were attending Hexside, but since you were on your own you couldn’t keep up your studies at the Bard Cash Course. You’d come late everyday and get terrible grades, constantly fall asleep in classes. So You were forced to drop out as you needed to fund yourself but that was until Raine found you.

〜♪

Author’s Note ; The pronouns that have been used for Reader is you/your and he/him ! as usual instead of y/n being used it was [Name] :p This is just a little platonic Raine comfort bc I love them, enjoy ! <3

—————————

It was so overwhelming for you, having to fend for yourself after your parents unfortunately passed away. You were doing so well at Hexside but couldn’t keep up your studies anymore so you had to tell Principal Bump that you had to drop out, now all you had to do was to do street music so you can keep a roof over your head. It was until you started getting in trouble for playing street music and as you got slightly older, you needed to join a coven. You didn’t feel as if you deserved to join a coven since you weren’t very powerful, but even though you needed to join one, you ended up not joining one since the money to keep your parents home was still needed. So for a long time to get money, you were on the run, doing illegal performances..since you didn’t have a permit.

At least [Name] isn’t as wanted as the so-called ‘Owl Lady!’ yet..All he wanted to do was peacefully play songs. [Name] tried his best not to release the magic of the bard but sometimes he just couldn’t keep it in and stuff and people started to move! It was only a matter of time before you were kicked out of your parent’s home. So here he was, a hungry child with no hope left for the world, he barely knew his family there was barely any time before his parents passed on. [Name] hurried through Bonesborough as he was being chased down by some guards. Currently [Name] isn’t as strong anymore from being scarce on his food supply. However, he'll makedo lost time, trying to pickpocket and steal..! Finally [Name] lost the guards eventually.., before he started to hear a peaceful tune coming from the city and some witches without covens were running free from the guards trying to force the witches into the covens. He got out his violin to help with the distraction but by the time he finally got out of hiding the guards were already gone. The person [Name] stared directly at him, fear overcame him once more so he was prepared to fight before [Name] knew it, he was being dragged away but it wasn’t by a guard it was by the person he was about to fight.

The two finally stopped [Name], scared, started kicking to get away but hear, “Hey Calm down..,you're safe here.” the voice said. The Voice was calming, had its own shade of nervousness, it somehow calmed [Name] nerves down. He stopped kicking and was put down, “Mind telling me your name? And where is your place of residence?” the person said, are they trying to sound professional? Should [Name] say he’s still living with someone or at least somewhere..? no it would be too obvious he isn’t living anywhere, might as well tell the truth.. “It’s..[Name], and,..I don’t live anywhere right now.” You sighed, admitting the truth no all of a sudden, you looked sad. “Hey it’s okay,” they said while looking at you. “The name’s Raine Whispers.” They introduced themselves as their calming-sounding voice was soothing to you, “You can stay with me for awhile, if you would like.” Raine offered before all the emotions just broke free from [Name] as he hugged them. “I’d assume that's a..yes?” They joked but still sounded slightly nervous.

You grew closer to Raine overtime, actually having a home to go and come to. You also had more friends or just friends to hang out with when Raine had to do their coven duties as head witch. BATT was honestly fun to hand around but times could come when the members of it would get on [Name]’s nerves. Raine felt honestly the same around the little bard they took in, “Hey, Little Songbird..” they addressed you with a nickname before handing over adoption papers, “Wanna make it official?” They asked [Name]. He nodded his head with a quick “yes ! :)” a smile launched on his face. “Then I guess I’m your parent now, ‘both king and queen,’ you know..’best of both worlds.’” Raine said, patting [Name]’s head, while he knew full well that Raine was quoting someone.

“C’mon ‘Little Songbird’ what do you want to do?” They teased [Name] with the nickname again.

#platonic #raine whispers #x male reader #reader insert #comfort #comfort character #raine x reader #raine whispers x reader #the owl house #the owl house x reader #bard reader #bards #adopted #adopted reader #x son reader #platonic with a capital p #more platonic #owl house #owl house x reader

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thedragonagelesbian · 5 days

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For the companion tav asks for Cyrus:

7 for general

12 for Story

11, 12 for romance

💞

thank you 💕💕💕

companion tav asks

7. (General) Do they have their own personal quest that spans the course of the game? Can it take different branching paths depending on the choices the Player Character makes?

Yes!!!! This is going to be needlessly long & detailed 👍

Act 1 (The Austringer)

Like for Shadowheart & Astarion, Cyrus' Act 1 quest is less about accomplishing anything in particular and more about being a nosy bitch. The player learns in his recruitment that he is the Champion of Iriaebor and the sworn sword of its ruler, Lady Meredith Stannard (the shared tadpole vision is him swearing fealty to her for the first time). Despite being keen to return to her, Cyrus initially hides the extent of their relationship, his feelings on the matter complicated by the recent life transference spell.

There are a couple of ways to learn more from him, including some insight/persuasion checks when asking him about his life in Iriaebor. If the player gets his approval high enough, they'll get a cutscene in which they find him studying his reflection in the Chionthar. He admits that he's still adjusting to this changed body, as he gave away a century of his life to prolong Meredith's and is still quite young for an elf (~175). Taking Cyrus to the Zhentarim hideout will also prompt some unique, hostile dialogue as the player learns that Cyrus and Meredith crusaded violently against the Zhentarim in Iriaebor-- and this branch of the organization is even holding one of Meredith's couriers, who was sent to look for Cyrus, prisoner.

If the courier is freed, they will explain that Meredith has devoted countless resources to finding Cyrus again and bringing him home, but Cyrus says that he cannot leave until the parasite problem is resolved-- no matter how badly he wants to return to her side.

At the tiefling party, Cyrus accidentally gets shitfaced drunk and is exuberantly enjoying himself, seeming much happier & more carefree than he has at any other point in the game so far, and he admits that he hasn't had this much fun in a very long time. The player also has the chance to spend the night with him, keeping him company as the intoxication slowly wears off

(I think you can convince Cyrus to stay if you go the goblin route, but only if you know about his relationship with Meredith already and threaten him with the fact that he'll never find his way back to her if he leaves the party [DC 20 Intimidation check].)

Act 2 (subquest: The Champion of Iriaebor)

In a long rest cutscene sometime after entering the Shadowlands, while the party is leaving to set up camp, Cyrus is ambushed by an unknown figure who tries to drag him back into the Shadowlands. They cross the barrier of the Shadow Curse, but Cyrus fights them off and crosses back over before the curse can affect him, wounding the assailant in the process and stranding them to succumb to the curse. Despite being injured himself, Cyrus insists on returning to save them, which the player can either permit or discourage (DC 15 persuasion check; succeed, and the information that follows has to be gleaned through Speak with Dead). If Cyrus saves them, it costs him (some unknown mechanical penalty I haven't thought of yet) but allows him and the player to interrogate the attacker.

The attacker reveals herself to be a half-elf from Iriaebor (let's call her Merrill because my default for putting characters in Cyrus' bg3 backstories is to steal from DA2) who watched Cyrus slaughter her parents as Meredith was consolidating power after her initial campaign to reclaim the city from the Zhentarim. Cyrus protests, insisting that he only ever attacked Meredith's enemies, but as Merrill reveals the despotic conditions under which residents beyond the High Tower live, he has to come to terms with her brutality-- a brutality he enabled and participated in.

The player can dismiss Merrill's claims, or try to convince Cyrus that what he did was right and just anyway (deception/persuasion checks respectively), but given the choice of how to respond to this, Cyrus believes Merrill and is disgusted with himself for the blindness of his devotion. Pronouncing this, Cyrus suddenly spasms and clutches his chest, and though he tries to pass off the pain as nothing, the player can discover (if they are themselves a paladin, pass a religion/insight check, or persuade him to explain what happened) that he has broken his oath.

At the next long rest, the player discovers that Cyrus has been visited by the Oathbreaker Knight and is arguing with him, insisting that he still believes in the tenets of his oath, just not who he vested that oath in. The player can suggest he try to substitute his oath to Meredith with an oath to something/someone else, and if the player has high enough approval, Cyrus--desperate in the face of the emptiness in his soul--suggests that he pledge himself to them. The player can either accept this offer, encourage him to commit to their cause of destroying the Absolute, or suggest it might be helpful to sit with his broken oath for a bit before rushing into another vow (DC 25/30 persuasion check depending on approval; if failed, he will pledge himself to protecting Faerun from the Absolute).

While these options map on to his endings, they don't determine them, as the player has the option to push him in a different direction at the end of his Act 3 personal quest.

Act 3 (subquest: The Sworn Sword)

Meredith is a diplomatic guest at Gortash's coronation! If Cyrus isn't in the party, she will approach the PC and demand to know where his, and will later appear in camp. Otherwise, the reunion happens then and there, and (provided he learned everything from Merrill & the player didn't convince him to disregard this) it's as uncomfortable and painful as every other companion-major backstory npc encounter that happens in that chamber is. Cyrus freezes up seeing her again, overwhelmed with rage and disgust when she touches him but not wanting to make a scene and not ready to confront her about everything she did to him/Iriaebor. Indeed, an insight check reveals that mostly what he's feeling is fear.

The player can intervene, though if they're too aggressive about it, a Steel Watcher will step in, and Meredith regards them coolly in any case, reticent to allow Cyrus to stay with the party (especially if he's romanced) and relenting only because Cyrus/the player insists he has to to keep him safe from the parasite.

Beyond the interpersonal stuff, Meredith mentions that she's come to Baldur's Gate to discuss the future of the city's diplomatic relations east of the Sword Coast and expresses admiration for Gortash, and the Steel Watch in particular. Finally, she mentions that the patriar who is hosting her will have a small ball to honor her visit, to which she invites Cyrus though explicitly not the rest of the party. Despite his own discomfort with the idea, when they talk about it in camp afterward, Cyrus suggests he play along and try to learn more about what Meredith is doing here, as she's rarely ever made diplomatic appearances beyond Iriaebor.

Adamant that he not go alone, the party puts together disguises and we get an Upper City masquerade quest! Shenanigans and sleuthing ensue, with chances to discover more about Baldur's Gate's wealthier residents (including the life and death of Duke Stelmane), the Flaming Fist, rumors about Cazador Szarr, gossip about the Stone Lord/Zhentarim/Thieves' Guild etc. The party also has plenty of opportunities to just be Sera-esque pranking shits, subtly disrupting festivities to distract its hosts and guest of honor and give Cyrus some reprieve. If they do all the pranks, the player (whether romanced or not) will even have the chance to lure Meredith away for long enough to dance with Cyrus, which he appreciates immensely. He admits it makes him nervous to have to rely so much on someone, but says the player is much worthier of that trust than Meredith.

As the end of the ball draws near, the party hatches a plan to find Meredith's (previously undiscovered) room by having Cyrus request to retire there for the evening. There, they find correspondence with Gortash revealing that Meredith seeks to replicate the Steel Watch in Iriaebor as part of the Absolute's future campaign against Elturgard. While previously expressing hope that Meredith might change her ways, Cyrus is convinced that she cannot return to Iriaebor and goes to confront her. Combat ensues, with a heavy mechanical focus on Meredith's court mage, Elsiee, trying to use enchantment magic to turn Cyrus against the party.

Like Viconia, Meredith is knocked out automatically, and when Cyrus goes to finish her, she laughs at him, telling him he is still little more than a very pretty sword best wielded in someone else's hands. His divine fury and grief are palpable as he smites her, sobbing, before quickly once more excusing himself from the party (though the player can hug him before he goes).

When all is said and done, the player finds Cyrus reflecting on the docks. Calmer now, he explains that he used to work these docks, a lifetime ago, after being orphaned on the boat back from Evermeet and falling into the dubious care of an orphanage headmaster. Though Cyrus knew he was being taken advantage of, made to look after the children and contracted to the docks as a source of income for the orphanage/headmaster, he never thought of leaving because if someone didn't make that sacrifice, who would?

This leads him to reflect that his issues with devotion might've begun long before meeting Meredith, that there is something about him that might've left him uniquely vulnerable to her, that has made him easy to abuse, and if he had previously sworn himself to the player in Act 2, he expresses doubt now. The player can either encourage that doubt or insist that their circumstances are different. If he had sworn to protect the realm from the Absolute, he'll wonder what he should do after it's defeated, and the player can encourage him to stay in Baldur's Gate to make it better than it was when he was young, return to Iriaebor to finish what they started by killing Meredith, or take some time to figure out for himself who he is without a cause or person to devote himself to. If the choice is left to him, Cyrus opts to return to Iriaebor.

Endings are complicated, because I am not bound by development time restrictions and can do whatever tf I want. They vary both on what Cyrus does post-game and how the player has handled the depth of his devotion, either encouraging him to find another commitment/duty after Meredith or encouraging him to discover what it means to live for himself. Also, I'm just personally not a fan of the good/bad ending dichotomy (even though I obviously think some of these endings are worse than others), so I use the distinction between devoted (I am defined by what I offer others) and undevoted (I am more than what I can offer others).

With one exception...

UNEQUIVOCAL BAD ENDING: Encouraging Cyrus to return with Meredith in his Act 3 personal quest; his equivalent of handing Shadowheart over to Mother Viconia. He leaves the party, though he and Meredith can be summoned as allies in the final stretch of the game. Talking to Cyrus in the tower before beginning the final assault will find him quiet and sullen, with Meredith largely talking on his behalf, and a letter from her at the epilogue party reveals that Cyrus has struggled to return to life in Iriaebor. She ends on an ominous note suggesting that her court mage has been investigating magical means of making him happier there.

Stays in Baldur's Gate, devoted: Cyrus joins the Flaming Fist. His service to the patriars is flawless and unquestioning.

Stays in Baldur's Gate, undevoted: Cyrus joins the Harpers, and while he's still working on the 'discretion' part of spy work, he's fallen in love with the Harpers' dual commitment to the natural world.

Follows the player, devoted: The player, whether romanced or not, has become Cyrus' new object of service, and he goes where they go, whether to the Hells with Karlach and/or Wyll or to assist in the player and Minthara's campaign against Menzoberranzan. A player who romanced ascended!Astarion will even have the option to make Cyrus his spawn too. If the player decides to stay in Baldur's Gate, this ending is distinct from the ending where Cyrus himself decides to stay.

Travels Faerun, undevoted: Cyrus wanders the Sword Coast for a time, visiting everyone after they've gone their separate ways and enjoying his freedom. If the Shadow Curse was lifted, he mentions particularly enjoying Reithwin and seeing the hard work Halsin has put into building it up. Otherwise, he's thinking about helping to rebuild Waukeenan's Rest and provide a safe, cozy outpost for travelers in that area.

Returns to Iriaebor, devoted: Cyrus reclaims his title of Champion of Iriaebor, no longer the right hand of its tyrant but of its people, yet the title continues to weigh on him.

Returns to Iriaebor, undevoted: Working under the existing resistance movement, Cyrus' knowledge helps to quickly dismantle and replace Meredith's loyalists and guards, though he stays out of the spotlight himself. Come the epilogue, he feels confident that six months of hard work have put the city on a better path and that it would be best to leave its future in the hands of others, severing as many ties with Meredith's rule as possible.

In both the Baldur's Gate and the Iriaebor devoted endings, a romanced player will find that Cyrus seems more committed to his duty than to them.

12 (Story). Is it possible for your Tav to be kidnapped and replaced by Orin? How is Orin's deception revealed? How do they react to the PC rescuing them in the Temple of Bhaal?

Yes! "Cyrus" becomes convinced that the PC is Orin in disguise and attacks them for the good of the party. "Cyrus" either overpowers the player, realizes his error, and turns his blade on himself, or the player overpowers him, he realizes his error, and insists the player kill him for his mistake, at which point Orin reveals herself.

The first thing Cyrus gasps when he's freed is "Meredith." Realizing who has rescued him, he quickly follows up with an apology, disappointed with himself for being kidnapped and forcing the party to put so much blood and sweat into rescuing him. In the follow up convo in camp, he mentions previously being held hostage by the Zhentarim in the early days of his and Meredith's fight against them. Back then, he had no doubt that she would come to rescue him, but now, the idea of that kind of dependence--of not being enough to keep himself safe--makes him uneasy.

11 (Romance). What are Tav’s plans for the future? Do they propose to the PC, or is marriage not something they’re interested in?

Devoted to PC: He proposes during the docks scene and follows the PC wherever they go next.

Devoted to city: He proposes in the post-final battle cutscene, declaring that he wants to make Baldur's Gate/Iriaebor their home, if the player will stay with him.

Undevoted: This may be the only version of Cyrus who doesn't want to rush right into marriage. He cares for a romanced PC deeply, of course, but he's just gotten out of an abusive relationship that eroded his sense of self rediscovering that sense is his priority, worrying that running head-first into another deeply committed relationship will make that difficult. In his Act 3 romance scene, he says he's okay with the PC not wanting to wait for him to figure this out, allowing the PC to affirm their willingness to be patient & stick with him. Cyrus is surprised, admitting he's all too used to being the one who has to compromise what he wants in a relationship, and tells the PC how much he loves them.

(And, in fact, the player can propose to him at the epilogue party, and he is overjoyed to say yes)

12 (Romance). Free space! Share anything from your companion!Tav au!

If the PC lets Volo icepick them & gets the ersatz eye, after the interaction with the courier in Act 1, they get a special long rest cutscene where they catch a glimpse of a scrying sensor floating above Cyrus. If they mention this to him, he identifies this as the magic of Meredith's court mage, Elsiee, and though he tries to brush its presence off as Meredith being worried about his safety, he's visibly uncomfortable with the discovery.

#companion!cyrus #the austringer #abuse cw #feeling like shit but working on this was fun #more ppl should send me asks now that i have a solid idea for his companion au

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autville · 7 months

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curious question: what does autville look like?

a curious question indeed!

it's a very foggy morning here in autville. the many trees are still holding onto their lush summer greenery, but they'll soon turn to the glorious golden colors of autumn!

I am sitting on the window perch inside one of the town's cozy stone cottages, which I call my home. my cottage is the perfect distance between the bustling town hall in the center square and the quiet orchards at the town's edge. the cottages in this neighborhood are close together to minimize those pesky lonely feelings...while still allowing for that sweet, sweet sense of ample personal space.

some autville residents live together in shared cottages, and some live more solitary lives, often in the company of (sometimes several!) animal companions. as I type this, my own cat is currently napping right in the middle of my bed. feline companions are plentiful in autville, perhaps because many of us believe that cats are pretty heckin autistic themselves...but that is a topic for a separate news bulletin.

however we choose to spend our days as individuals, we as town residents of autville frequently gather for community events like our weekly same foods feasts at the pavilion (I usually bring macaroni and cheese!) and special interest roundtables at the town hall, during which we take turns sharing wondrous fun facts about whatever we're interested in.

autville does not exist in isolation, of course. there are plenty of accessible modes of transit into the nearby hustle and bustle of all those more neurotypical realms, if that's your thing!

...it's not really my thing, though. I prefer to spend my free time researching disability studies at the endless library, perusing rotating exhibitions at the museum of special interests, or lounging about and stimming freely in the meadows...weather permitting, of course.

anyway, I thank you for this question, dear reader! cartography isn't one of my special interests, but I'm sure I can find a friend in town to create an official map of autville...

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lullabyes22-blog · 10 months

Text

Snippet - Forward, but Never Forget/XOXO - Salamander

Silco interrupts Viktor and Jinx.

Forward, but Never Forget/XOXO

Snippet:

Silco coalesces out of the framing shadows.

"Should that matter? We lived."

Viktor and Jinx's heads spin, oriented not by his soundless footfalls but the slither of his voice.

Jinx straightens from her provocative slouch on the settee with a lungless Eeep!—a child caught rummaging in the larder. Viktor backtracks with the appalled reflex of a guilty man eager to prove his innocence—or an innocent man who will be condemned guilty under any circumstance.

The dark. The seclusion. The girl.

None of it bodes well.

The silence was a tangle before. It ripples with a dark territoriality now.

"I was only—" Viktor begins, just as Jinx says, "Speak of the Devil."

Silco is unsure if she means him or Viktor. Then again, outmaneuvering Jinx's verbal minefields is sometimes a very convoluted journey, and other times as simple as cutting through the prattle and into literalism.

"My devil was missed at the gala."

He lays a hand on Jinx’s shoulder. Barely a skim of fingertips, there then gone. Yet the possessiveness is hard to deny. His sidelong glance is arch but not unfriendly: What are you up to, child?

It's common for Jinx to go prowling for Firelights to blow up. Less common, but not unheard of, is her penchant for attaching herself to strays. Not out of compassion. Simply because she's transfixed by shiny toys and can't resist tampering. Mania, mutation, mayhem—she has little respect for boundaries. Everyone is fair game; nothing is off-limits.

This is different.

The twinkle in her eyes suggests she's found something new. Something she wants to keep.

Twelve, Silco thinks again.

Twelve was a good age.

Viktor doesn't clear his throat. But his voice comes slow and halting, like a badly-tuned instrument. He takes in the two creatures before him with a measured caution, unwilling to risk sudden movement.

Or a fall.

Jinx still has his cane gripped in her palm. She toys with it in a nimble-fingered way that is at once playful and weirdly suggestive.

"Perhaps," Viktor says, "I could be permitted to return upstairs."

"You could," Silco says, "once you explain why you're downstairs."

Viktor's throat works as if around a mouthful of sawdust. He clears it twice, then says, "I was told this is his new residence."

"The Doctor's?"

The barest nod.

"And did the Doctor inform you of this via correspondence?"

It seems improbable. Singed's missives are closely monitored. To say nothing of the fact that a monster as clinically remote as the Doctor seems unlikely to cultivate pen-pals.

Then again, even monsters have unplumbed depths.

Viktor gives a headshake, almost a twitch, accompanied by a half-shrug. "I visited him before the separation between our cities. He mentioned that the Fissures would be under siege soon. I was advised to steer clear. After the dust settled, he stated his new base of operations would be wherever yours were."

"Prudent of him."

At Silco's side, Jinx's face splits into a minxy grin. "Is the Doc your dealer?"

Viktor's look falls short of a glare. But he seems to have a sense of self-preservation. It is perhaps a scant inch thicker than Jinx's own. "He is an... old friend."

Friend—a word so commonplace, and yet so loaded with meaning. Friend: like ally. Friend: like family. Friend: like foe.

Silco has had few friends in his lifetime. And seldom one that wasn't another.

"I can well imagine," Silco says blandly. "Two salamanders."

It's an Undercity turn-of-phrase. It refers to Topsiders who make the Fissures their permanent home. Rarer, Fissurefolk who manage to scrape their way into Piltover.

Few succeed. Fewer survive.

"A curious state," Silco says, "neither here, nor there. Boundaries are permeable."

#arcane #arcane league of legends #arcane silco #silco #arcane viktor #viktor #arcane jinx #jinx #forward (never forget)/xoxo #forward but never forget/xoxo #snippet

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blubushie · 6 months

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Hi, Blu! I have a question for you. (I should preface that I'm American, for context.) I'm not a very big fan of guns- i've seen them do too much damage to vulnerable people over here. That said, I do understand that people like you depend on them to do their jobs and feed and defend themselves. I really respect you and your input on this sort of thing, so I was curious- What's your stance on automatic/semi-automatic weaponry? Some people here, right-wingers mostly, say that everyone should own an AK-47 and it's an acceptable firearm to use for home defense and hunting and such. I don't think those things should be used so lightly, if at all- a handgun for defense and a rifle or shotgun for hunting should be more than enough. Plus, I imagine something that powerful would rip, say, a deer to shreds and ruin the meat, but I'm far from an expert on such things.

This is a lot, so I'm going to pick this apart piece-by-piece. (Also, for the record: I was born in America and spent many years here and am currently living here. I'm well aware of what the culture is like pertaining to firearms, since some of that culture has rubbed off on me from my father.)

I'm not a very big fan of guns-

Firstly, we don't use the term "guns" on this blog, just firearms. My experience with guns is limited to air rifles and tranquiliser rifles. My experience with firearms is more extensive.

i've seen them do too much damage to vulnerable people over here.

Yes, firearms are dangerous. They're not toys.

That said, I do understand that people like you depend on them to do their jobs and feed and defend themselves.

You cannot use firearms for self-defence in Australia. You cannot use ANY weapon for self-defence in Australia because it creates a clause of "You left home HOPING for someone to test you." If you are attacked in Australia, be it with fists, knives, or firearms, you are fucked. If you can't defend yourself, you are fucked. The law will not save you. (And we wonder why we have a problem with stabbings.)

What's your stance on automatic/semi-automatic weaponry?

They're neat and I like them. My father owns an M16, rifles, handguns, and a few shotguns--all of which are semiautomatic. I can field strip a Glock 34 (a semiautomatic handgun) in about 10 seconds. In the US I've conceal carried an M1911 and a .38 Colt Detective Special. I've shot an M16 and an M2 Browning, both full auto. If you're coming to me and expecting me to have a disapproving opinion of automatic actions, you're going to be left disappointed.

In the US, you CANNOT OWN A FULLY AUTOMATIC WEAPON without an FFL--a federal firearms licence. Additionally you need a licence from your state of residence to permit you possessing the weapon, which includes a federal background check (already required for ALL FIREARMS PURCHASES in the US) plus fingerprinting. The requirements to get both of these licences are INSANELY difficult. There are very, VERY few people who own fully automatic weapons in the US, and none of them will jeopardise their licences by using their weapons for crime.

Some people here, right-wingers mostly, say that everyone should own an AK-47 and it's an acceptable firearm to use for home defense and hunting and such. I don't think those things should be used so lightly, if at all- a handgun for defense and a rifle or shotgun for hunting should be more than enough.

I'm not even going to acknowledge the bit about "right-wingers." Politics stay off the blog.

Additionally, I'm fairly certain that you're confusing an AR-15 for an AK-47. AK-47s are primarily collector's weapons. They don't see much use outside of "fun to shoot" and are not used for crime because of how few people own them--most are collectors.

If you mean the AR-15 platform, then you're also mistaken because they ARE incredible weapons both for hunting and home defence. They're incredibly adaptable including for people with physical disabilities (who, for example, may not be able to safely grip a handgun or handle the recoil of something like a semiauto shotgun but still should be able to defend themselves with a weapon that's easily braceable against their body, easily accessible and modifiable to their specific needs, and also semiautomatic so that all they have to do is take off the safety and pull the trigger).

A bolt-action rifle takes time to cycle the bolt. I'm a professional shooter and I keep my rounds topped off. The time it takes me to eject the bolt, reload, and send the bolt forward again to chamber a round is about 2 seconds but might take longer under the duress that someone would be experiencing when their life is actively in danger.

The majority of weapons crime in the US is done with illegally obtained firearms--primarily handguns, most of which are purchased off the black market or stolen. Currently every firearm purchase in the US requires a federal background check before it can be given to the buyer. In some states there's a waiting period (which studies have shown has done nothing to damper firearms crime). It's not lawfully abiding citizens going out there and committing mass shootings--it's a mentally ill culture that values clout over life, and a media that makes killers famous.

Plus, I imagine something that powerful would rip, say, a deer to shreds and ruin the meat, but I'm far from an expert on such things.

My parting words are an image. Here's a comparison of ammunition sizes. I shoot .30-06 Springfield. The AR-15 platform shoots 5.56x45, the AK-47 shoots 7.62x39.

My rifle will do far more traumatic damage to a deer--or a person--than an AR-15 or AK-47 ever would.

But AR-15s are great for shooting pigs.

#blu whos #blu pew #blu views #I GUESS?#blu firearms discourse arc?

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talesinfallacies · 6 months

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“Regardless of October 7th incidents, Israel has constantly been bombing Gaza. I work at a school affiliated with the UNRWA near the borders. We're always asked to wear loose clothing to help us escape in the event of bombing.

More than half of the female students in the class, not only have martyr relatives, they also witnessed the death of martyrs before their eyes. Meaning, more than three-quarters of the students in my school have psychological trauma. More than once we fled from school under random bombing. More than once we hide in our classes and sit on the floor (like the CNN broadcaster), but this time I have 40 students in the class and I am charged with protecting them, and I cannot even protect myself. Many times we would go back to school when we were not in a state of war, and we would find a girl who had been martyred, or in the hospital seriously injured because a soldier on the border had targeted her while she was in her home.

The residents of Beit Hanoun, all of their agricultural land, which is their livelihood, is on the border. Go and ask them about the tragedies they experience day in and day out. How many times have their crops been burned? How many times have they been targeted while they were farming safely?

Before October 7th, Israel constantly assaulted women on their way to prayers in Jerusalem, preventing them from reaching Al-Aqsa Mosque for days. Celebrations are held in vain and repeatedly, and they chant racist slogans to provoke the Palestinian people of Jerusalem.

Gazans need a permit to enter the West Bank, which is often denied (for education, work, treatment, all the same, forbidden).

On a personal note, I am 32 years old and have never visited Jerusalem or the rest of the cities of Palestine.

Patients with serious medical conditions that require a transfer to the West Bank die while waiting for the approval of the transfer.

Checkpoints are widespread in the West Bank on every street, to the point that you take 2 hours to reach a place that you can normally reach in 15 mins because you have to stop and wait many times. Israel arrests men, women, and children, imprisons them without charge or trial, abuses them, and tortures them in prisons without supervision. If it releases them in deals - something that happens once in a lifetime - it exiles them to another city far from their family, that if it doesn't take them captive again! Settlers occupy houses in the West Bank, steal them and live in them (just like that, imagine!), and the Palestinian who yesterday was still sleeping in this house is expelled under the cover of the occupation government. Even the Palestinians inside Israel, who are supposed to have Israeli identity cards, were not spared. They are treated as second-class citizens and are considered a minority. They are prevented from many jobs. Armed Israeli gangs constantly assault them in the streets and in their homes. They are killed without any accountability. Rather, their killing is encouraged because they are causing a crisis for the occupying state.

In Gaza, if you order something online, it will take a year and we will be answered verbatim "it's up to the mood of the Israeli soldier working at the crossing". Three-quarters of the items Israel considers to be dual-use and refuses to enter the Gaza Strip, the most important of which is reinforced iron, which can be used in building shelters to protect civilians in wars. I once ordered diving goggles, and they were returned because they were classified as dual use. Everything entering the sector is subject to inspection. Israel rations the Gaza Strip's food supplies so that the food that enters is not enough for a single person. It updates its data after each war to account for the sector's decrease in population due to martvrdom (articles are widespread and numerous, for example how it rations the entry of chocolate into the sector according to its own specific calculation).

Fishermen are hunted at sea and they're falsely accused of getting close to the border. The fishing area keeps shrinking that they now have a tiny area from which they can make a living.

This is just the tip of the iceberg of the occupation's practices against the Palestinians in general and Gaza in particular.

Israel did not need October 7th except to inflame people's feelings, remind them of the Jewish tragedy, and wipe out the Gaza Strip, with the world giving it the green light. If October 7th hadn't happened, Israel would have bombed the Gaza Strip and said that a Gazan dog walked near the border and denied the Holocaust.

Resistance, tunnels, return marches, and demonstrations are all forms of oppressed people trying to defend themselves.

Whether they succeed or fail, they are all attempts to say that we died with dignity, and at least we tried not to let them kill us while they were happy.

As Naseer said, "If it were not for the resistance, your mother would've been washing an Israeli soldier's feet in a basin right now."

The occupation is not the enemy of the resistance itself. The occupation is my enemy, the enemy of my students, the enemy of my children, the enemy of my family members, and the enemy of my people. If God allowed us to live, I would like to let my children and students grow up cursing Israel. The battle is not over yet.

This is not a post of justification, I don't have to justify to the world why we resist. This is for some of my people who seem to believe the occupation's repeated narrative that its goal is to eliminate Hamas. And to remind them that in the past there was no Hamas, but your grandfather and grandmother were still killed. My son and your son are not Hamas, but my son and your son are still being killed.

And Now: Do you still condemn Hamas?”

— a Palestinian Teacher on twitter @SometimesPooh

Translated by @demianoir

#palestine #free palestine #gaza #please follow her on twitter #show her support

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princessasmosprincess · 4 months

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OH MY GOD A SATAN REGENCY AU?!! IM GONNA GO INSANE YOURE TOO GOOD 😭😭😭

You're always so sweet (˵^ヮ^˵)♡

Ah the Satan Regency AU, my beloved. It's actually a concept I've had since before Mermaid Splash but I keep getting sidetracked by other projects.

The basic premise is that MC's parents are gone and their inheritance is tied up until they marry (as always, MC is meant to be gender neutral, though I do realize this was more of an issue for women in the Regency Era. Since this is an AU we can have fun with the "rules"). With a household to run, and their younger brother, Luke, at the age he should be attending boarding school, MC needs to find a solution to their money problems. They enlist the help of their childhood friend, Satan, who has just the idea to help them. Maybe it will be a way to catch two birds with one stone, by ruining his social and academic rival and ensuring his dear friend's future. MC is happy to follow through with the plan, but will Satan be content with the result when all is said and done? It's a little fun, a little angst.

This snippet is a long one but I just had to share:

“I suppose I’ll just have to get married,” You’d said.

“That does seem like your only option,” Satan had said.

You sighed, it was all you could do.

“Now we’ll just have to find you a suitable match.” He began to run down the list of gentlemen in your circle, “Lord Mammon is automatically disqualified,”

“Why is that?”

“Mammon frequents gambling halls more than his own home,”

“Noted,” You’d said.

“Admiral Leviathan is trustworthy, if a bit shy,”

You twirled a wildflower between your fingers, “But he’d be out to sea for months out of the year,”

“As his spouse, you’d be permitted to go with him.”

You shook your head. As much as you loved the sea, you couldn't see yourself taking up residence on a ship. Besides, you had a younger brother to watch over and a household to run. “And he’s shy too?”

Satan nodded.

You began plucking the petals from the flower one by one. “Who else is there?”

“There’s Lord Asmodeus,” Satan offered. “You know he adores you.”

“He adores everyone,”

“That he does,” Satan laughed. “With him you’d live comfortably. The dandy that he is, he’ll keep you in only the highest of fashion.”

“That’s true,”

“He needs to be tied down to someone before he does something foolish,”

“Oh and is that what I am to be?” You gave a sarcastic laugh. “A cage to trap his philandering spirit?”

WIP Ask Game

#wip game #ask game #dash game #satan #satan obey me #regency au

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chocodile · 2 years

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Taking a little break from making talking heads on white backgrounds to do a set of speedpaints (~2.5 hrs for the second one, ~2 hrs for the third, ~1.5 hours for the first and last) showing some locations in the "past" setting of Amaranthine. Y'know, just to give the waist-up furries with giant dialog boxes some context. :) Descriptions for each locale under the cut! I plan to do a second series focusing on the “present” setting later, time allowing.

Western Kingdom (City of Whitefell, Year 1527)

The city of Whitefell is one of the northernmost cities in the Western Kingdom. Once a small, rural village whose local economy was focused on lumber and fur trading, everything changed with the foundation of the Whitefell Royal Magical Academy. In the century and a half since its founding, the town has evolved into a fairly wealthy and prosperous city, sporting conveniences such as magical streetlamps and energy furnaces that allow its residents to live in comfort, despite the relatively inhospitable climate.

When a child is found to have significant magical skill, it is customary for Western Kingdom families to send the child off to a Royal Magical Academy for training and certification. Upon graduation, the newly-minted wizard will likely join the Royal Mages--grades permitting, of course. Competition is fierce, especially at a desirable school like Whitefell, and requires not only talent but also intense dedication and rigorous study. Not all wizards are able to make the cut.

On this particular day, a young boy from the academy has made a different choice: he is skipping school. As clouds roll in and snow begins to fall, he begins to shiver--he is woefully underdressed for this weather. He looks around for someplace to take shelter in.

Western Kingdom (Unnamed rural town, Year 1539)

In the rural areas of the Western Kingdom, towns rarely have their own village witch or wizard--that's where the Royal Mages come in. Somewhere between public servants and mercenaries, they provide specialized magic-for-hire services ranging from healing injuries and illness, removing crop blight, assisting in construction projects, crafting potions and enchantments, and much more. The assistance they offer is invaluable... to any town or individual that can afford their fees, that is.

Opinions on the Royal Mages vary depend on who you ask. Some view them as saviors and heroes, while others see them as greedy and corrupt. Shadier mages are known to half-ass jobs for poorer clients while being all too eager to fix up a high-paying noble's vacation home, and rumors of bribery and blackmail swirl.

Not all of them have bad reputations, though. Viscount Arcturus Hyden IV, the only son of the famous Hyden magic family, was one of the good ones. Him showing up in town was a head-turning affair. Though haughty and eccentric, to many, the young mage's ego seemed justified. After all, they'd all seen how effortlessly he crafted the high-level spells requested of him--spells that would normally take an entire team of Royal Mages working in unison. He was thorough, too--he refused to leave a job unfinished and never cut corners, even when working for the lowliest and poorest farming hamlet. He'd even fix up previous spellwork done by other less talented mages for free if he didn't like their technique. It was, therefore, relatively easy to look the other way when he would spend the entire rest of his visit day-drinking in the taverns and attempting to seduce any woman who happened to make eye contact with him.

Western Kingdom (Westhaven Capitol, Year 1570)

The capitol city of Westhaven is widely recognized as the seat of the Western Kingdom's power and glory. Far enough south to be shielded from the worst of the bitterly cold northern winds, yet far enough east to escape the wet, swampy western moors and the disease they bring, Westhaven sits at the nexus of many trade routes and favorable weather patterns. With a long, stable history, rich trade, and an unusually high concentration of wizards thanks to being the headquarters of the Royal Mages, Westhaven has grown into a massive, sprawling economic and political power, easily dwarfing every other city in the kingdom.

There is little wonder that the western king chose to build his castle there. There is even less wonder that Westhaven estates would become a hot commodity among Western Kingdom noble families. Families that are lucky enough to be gifted a parcel of Westhaven land by the crown enjoy a close relationship with the king, considerable political sway, and the unique ability to keep an eye on the crown's dealings... though, for a certain individual, it may be the crown that is keeping an eye on him.

Retired from the Royal Mages after being injured in a border conflict with the Eastern Kingdom, Duke Hyden seems to sit comfortably in the new Westhaven manor awarded to him along with his new dukeship and new position as one of the king's high wizard chancellors. So comfortably, it seems, that he never leaves--his ostentatious public appearances seem to be a thing of the past. The few souls that have seen him in the years since his injury say that he looks very different these days: heavier, now, and draped in glittering silken robes, they say, with his mane of salt-and-pepper hair gone completely white.

One must wonder, then, what business this unicorn gentleman has with the Duke. Lord Ambroys de Luxe is clearly no maid nor servant, so what is he doing at the Duke's manor so late in the evening...?

Western Kingdom (Western Moors - The Hill, Year 1572)

A convoy of wagons bearing the mark of the king travel a remote road on the far western outskirts of the Western Kingdom. This far out, even rural farming villages are few and far between, and a chilly wind blows over the endless, quietly rainy moors and dark, dense forests. Some more superstitious sorts whisper that these outskirt lands are haunted or cursed. What else would explain the strange, dark dreams rumored to haunt travelers, or the stubborn crop blight that keeps many remote villages on the brink of starvation? More educated city-dwellers would explain it away as the ignorance and paranoia of simple peasantfolk, of course, but after a week of travel in this area, even the royal guards and researchers of Westhaven find themselves anxiously looking over their shoulders and startling more often as they drive their wagons onward.

Tonight, the convoy has stopped and set up camp at the foot of a small, forested hill on the orders of Duke Hyden, the nobleman leading the trip. The Duke has long been known for his mercurial temperament and strange habits, of course, even before his injury at the border and subsequent disappearance from the public eye. Odd behavior is nothing new when dealing with him.

But even so, the accompanying guards and other members of the trip find his secrecy and growing agitation over the last few days unnerving. What exactly are they doing out here, anyway?

#speedpaint #fantasy landscape #furry #anthro #furry art #verse: amaranthine #my ocs #hyden #others' ocs #ambroys #just a teeny tiny little ambroys... just a small one... a miniature pony if you will #kwillow #I did rely rather heavily on a reference for the manor cuz like... design a giant ornate mansion from scratch OR draw fast... pick one #wow I dislike this new feature where image sets need to be expanded but that ALSO expands the giant wall of text #that I intentionally wanted to make optional bonus content so that peeps could look at the pretty pictures and not read if they wanted #:/#young hyden #baby hyden

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