#sanguinarysanguinity

[acrossthewavesoftime]

What's Heronii-1, please?

That's my silly little attempt at a modern-ish Flight of the Heron adaption, in which Keith Windham is an exasperated school teacher whose recruits, or rather, students, run off when on a hiking trip, they bump into a rather large bull, causing Keith to be left behind, and being picked up, and taken home, by, a handsome Scottish stranger, who just so happens to run a local wildlife organisation.

Have a little scene under the cut in which the injured Keith and the bull, are both found by Ewen and Lachlan...

"Lochiel told me they were talking about an escaped bull around these parts— that’s how Lachlan got the idea to check for bonny Wee Charlie here. He has a habit of breaking fences.”

And with that, he had turned away from Keith and approached his henchman who was holding the bull to give the large animal whose name surely must be some sort of bad joke a kiss on its scraggly orange forehead.

“Wee Charlie might not be quite so ‘wee’ and harmless as you suppose, sir,” Keith, enraged by the display of affection being showered upon one so undeserving as the beastly Charlie, added cuttingly, “as soon as I am back to civilisation, you can be certain the RSPCA will hear of this. And they surely will not take kindly to such a large beast roaming freely and intimidating hikers—”

When his mien had been pleasant before, it had now clouded over, and Mr. Cameron’s warning glare told him not to pursue the argument further. “The RSPCA brought him to Ardroy, in fact. He’s been kept more as a pet for most of his life, and has not a single bad bone in him. I doubt that he meant you, or your boys any harm, Mr.—?”

“Windham,” Keith added through gritted teeth, and observed yet another change in the Achillean young man’s face. “You are not, by any chance, the Mr. Windham whose class I was to welcome at three this afternoon?”, he asked, and knew the answer already.

“We lost our way. And then we met your little friend here,” Keith informed him, an angry gleam in his eyes and his tone sharp enough to turn Wee Charlie into barbecue-sized parts.

“’Tis of no matter,” the young man shook his head, his voice much too gentle for Keith’s liking. “Do you think you can mount behind me?”

Keith’s mind resisted the idea of going anywhere with these two bull-chasing madmen, one of them looking as if he had absconded from the set of yet another romantic drama, but his body was weak, and they seemed to know the whereabouts of his charges, reasons which convinced him to let necessity triumph over his pride and allowed Mr. Camron to lead him over to the quad, which surely was not intended to carry two. “You’ll have to hold on to me if you don’t want to fall down,” the young man said matter-of-factly, and reaching behind himself with one hand, grabbed Keith by the arm and wound it around his midsection, causing Keith’s face to be almost forced to bury itself into the Highlander’s strong back.

#ask #ask reply #ask game #sanguinarysanguinity #the flight of the heron #d k broster #r writes

[quipxotic]

<3

You know this is the first time I've actually understood the appeal of the Tumblr crabs. They are adorable and random. Thanks Sang!

#Every day is Crab Day on Tumblr! #sanguinarysanguinity

[silverfoxstole]

Character bingo: William Bush!

Thanks! Oh, look, it’s a bingo! 😄

#i’m so old i had to look up what a blorbo is #hornblower #william bush #character bingo #sanguinarysanguinity

[pentecostwaite]

11 and 14: Something you want to do again next year and your favorite book of the year.

Thank you for the asks, @sanguinarysanguinity!

11. Something you want to do again next year. This past July we went to Palm Springs, California, in July to visit family. I'm a New Englander and constantly overheating even in winter, so it took a great leap of faith to agree to this vacation. Luckily, my spouse spent much of their childhood in the desert and they know exactly how to stay safe in such hot weather (115 degrees F during the day! 95 F at night!). One of the joys of the desert in the summer is swimming late at night in a pool and feeling no different between the air temperature and the water: you feel as if you are floating! I am looking forward to going again this summer.

14. Favorite book of the year: A book I just loved from start to finish was Mr. & Mrs. Prince: How An Extraordinary Eighteenth-Century Family Moved Out Of Slavery And Into Legend. It tells the story of a formerly-enslaved Black couple in 18th-century New England and how they navigated their lives together. It's been a particularly inspirational book for me, as I am also researching free and enslaved Black New Englanders in the 18th century; this book is a wonderful example of how well and engagingly such a story can be told.

#ask game #sanguinarysanguinity

[chiropteracupola]

i read flight of the heron after seeing u post abt it because i trust my mutuals' taste completely of course and i am so miserable now. mourning that angry pathetic wet little man. i will never be the same

the heron book will do that!!! truly it's alas!

#answers from the cupola #heronposting #more seriously Yeah you will get so attached to keith windham. and then you will never recover. Is The Thing. #and to be fair I Also read foth after seeing tgarnsl and sanguinarysanguinity post about it. and I Too trust my mutuals' taste. #And Then. Oh And Then. about a year and a half of absolute mental soup. keef :(

[cedarboots]

tagged by @subsequentibis- thank you!

last song: when sorrows encompass me round by kaia kater

favorite color: deep green or indigo blue

last movie/tv show: original avatar the last airbender series!

sweet/spicy/savory: impossible to choose i love them all

relationship status: single currently!

last thing you googled: great serpent mound

current obsession: rereading terry pratchett novels

tagging @opalescent-apples, @sanguinarysanguinity, @sailorpants, @the-devils-blobfish, @mycological-mariner, and anyone else who wants to share!

#tag game #cedar barks

[violsva]

What I want is an extremely Wodehousian series of short stories about a young lady who used to be Incredibly Efficient and Go-Getting and Businesslike and Problem-Solving at work and in her personal life and for all her friends and was also deeply deeply anxious … and then realized that she wasn’t actually getting anything out of that for herself (except perhaps a sizable nest egg in stocks) and decided to just Stop.

So she quit her job and shocked all her friends and family and now she spends her days sitting in coffee shops people-watching and never worries about anything.

Except that occasionally her friends still show up and tell her their problems, and she says, “Why don’t you break up with him?” and they say, “I can’t, I’m in love!” so she says, “Well, why don’t you do x, then?” and they say, “I can’t do x!” so she says, “Well, then don’t come crying to me when consequences happen.”

And they sniff and say, “You’ve become very cold, Isabel,” and go off in a huff, and she orders another croissant.

And then a week later they come crying to her because consequences have happened, and she sighs and pats their hand and then writes a brief letter to the young man’s mother and Everything Is Resolved.

I feel like that formula would take a long time to get old.

Who are my local Wodehousians? @havingbeenbreathedout, @unrealthings, @sanguinarysanguinity, @theodoradove, @neverwhere

#alas this is something i want to read rather than write #while i might manage pastiche i feel Shenanigans may be beyond me #p g wodehouse

[sanguinarysanguinity]

4 a.m.

Another collaboration! Art by @agarthanguide​; drabble by @sanguinarysanguinity​.

~

Bush tried to dress quietly, but Hornblower woke anyway.

"What time is it?"

"Morning watch, sir."

"Did you get any sleep? You have a raid tonight."

"I'm good for it, sir. But I need to oversee the preparations." Tonight's raid was a gift from Hornblower, one last chance to distinguish himself in this war. Bush did not intend to waste it.

"Very well. I'll come see you off tonight."

"Aye aye, sir." Bush leaned down to kiss Hornblower, and the peace of the early hour reigned.

"See you soon, sir."

Bush slipped out the door, finalising his plans for Caudebec.

#hhornblower #horatio hornblower #william bush #hotspur husbands #drabble #hornblower fic #hornblower art

[educatedinyellow]

Badly Summarized WIP Game

Hey, @thetimemoves, thanks for tagging me! :) My current WIP is under wraps because it's for an exchange, but here are some older ones <3

I'm happy to tag anyone who is, or was, writing something, if you'd like to share. Maybe @sanguinarysanguinity, @sanspatronymic, or @oldshrewsburyian might like to play?

#wip meme #tag games

[oldshrewsburyian]

WIP Tag Game

I was kindly tagged by @aloveforjaneausten and @sanguinarysanguinity in the following game, which... presumes I can keep track of all my WIPs.

Rules: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

My wips:

Believing the Lovely Idea

Water Like A Stone

Golf Girl

Learning the Business

A Different Kind of Folly

a still and woven blue

Care of Future Times

everything | that has not yet been lost

winnowing oar

Das Heil, das auf dem Land ich suche

anticolonial femslash thing

Dime Novel/Damsel Does The Rescuing

Elementary!Sumatra

Fake Renaissance Paintings

Unfridging Project

Greenwood Encounters

1950s post-espionage country house BatB

Tagging: @jomiddlemarch, @tinydooms, @qqueenofhades, @huntercombe, @cycas, @the-moon-loves-the-sea and... why do I blank people's handles when doing these things? I always feel as though there's more AO3/Tumblr crossover than I reliably remember. If you'd like to consider yourself tagged, please do feel free.

#my academic publishing schedule REALLY cramps my fic-writing schedule #i don't know how qqueenofhades does it #wip tag game

[verecunda]

10 First Lines

I was tagged by @bryndeavour. Thankee, dear! <3

This is the first line of the last ten fics posted, isn't it?

Shadow March (Kidnapped/Frontier Wolf crossover, gen, G)

It was three years since my adventures, and just a little over two since I had come into my full inheritance, when Alan visited me again at the house of Shaws.

The Washer at the Ford (The Flight of the Heron, Ewen/Keith, G)

The mist came upon them suddenly: no thick incoming tide of sea-fog, but one that fell around them almost like a curtain.

Yellow and Gold (LOTR, Legolas/Gimli, G)

When Gimli and the others had left the Lonely Mountain to attend Master Elrond’s council, the year had been on the wane: the alders and the beech trees shimmering with gold on either hand of the road, the whin bushes on the moors dark, with just a few brave yellow flowers still hanging on, as if in defiance, not just of the oncoming winter, but of the great Shadow that threatened them all.

Leave of Duty (ROP, Elendil/Míriel, G)

She knew it was Elendil even before he was announced.

The Natural Element (The Flight of the Heron, Ewen/Keith, G)

The afternoon sun had burned away the last wisps of mist from the great cone of Ben Tee, and warmed the red granite of the creag ruadh almost to a glow.

Revealed by Night (The Silmarillion, Maeglin/Salgant, G)

Though the evening was yet young, the feasting in the King’s Hall was already at its height.

A Shadow of Despair (LOTR, Witch-king of Angmar, G)

Standing upon the walls of his dark fortress of Carn Dûm, his face turned into the teeth of the wind, the Lord of Angmar thinks — in whatever part of his mind that is yet his own — that his master chose this seat well for him.

Gie Me a Cannie Hour at E'en (Kidnapped, Alan/David, G)

I had come into my kingdom at last, and after having come through so many trials and travails — et terris iactatus et alto, as Mr Rankeillor might have said — I was now filled with a strange, unreal sense of calm and satisfaction as I sat up into the night, contemplating the future that now lay before me.

Reversals (LOTR/Silmarillion, Galadriel & Celebrimbor, G)

When Celebrimbor was not to be found in the smithy, Galadriel sought him in the gardens.

What Watchful Cares (The Silmarillion, Celebrimbor, Lúthien & Huan, G)

The night was far advanced, but one solitary light still burned in the smithies of Nargothrond.

(Heavens, we've been very prim and G-rated here over the last six months, haven't we? XD)

This one's been doing the rounds quite a bit recently, so apologies if I end up tagging anyone who's already been tagged: @di-daydreamer, @cilil, @chiropteracupola, @swanmaids, @cycas, @cuddlytogas, @imakemywings, @m-madeleine, @dilkinazm, @themalhambird, and @sanguinarysanguinity.

#meme #my fic

[acrossthewavesoftime]

First Lines Game

Rules: share the first lines of ten of your most  recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written less than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway.

Thank you for thinking of me, @sanguinarysanguinity! It's been a while, but I haven't forgotten you! :-) I had previously experienced some technical difficulties, but here we are at last! What I write is a bold mix of historical fiction interspersed with some fics in the classical sense, so there:

It had begun to snow again. He watched sleepily the flakes, silver and dark, falling obliquely against the lamplight. A James Joyce-inspired beginning to my project on Mary Baddeley and Henry Clinton.

The bells of Dresden tolled in mourning for the loss of the Elector; they had not tolled a fortnight before, when his mistress had predeceased him. I haven't written much of it yet, but I am transfixed by the life of Wilhelmina Maria Frederica von Rochlitz, the illegitimate daughter of Johann Georg IV, elector of Saxony. She was named after her godparents William III and Mary II of England, and would lose her mother, father and godmother within the same year to the same illness, and be raised at the court of her uncle Augustus the Strong.

Die Schwüle eines beginnenden Sommertages hing schwer über der Mark, dem Wald, und dem Dorfe und angrenzenden Gut B--. This is a little project for a friend that I won't quite disclose yet. ;-)

In all Lochaber— perhaps in all the Western Highlands— there was no more bored or disgusted man this sixteenth of August than Mr. Keith Windham of St. George’s School for Boys, as he led a group of year elevens; and no more nervous or unhappy men than the students themselves. Probably the only real fic on the list; a modern re-telling of the first meeting between Keith and Ewen from The Flight of the Heron!

Grey, grey was the garden, and grey the meadow and woods behind it, all glazed in dull hoarfrost. He shivered in spite of the warming flames in the fireplace, and pulled his banyan tighter about him, but it was no use, the cold still would not leave him. This is the beginning of my Margaret and Samuel Graves-centric project revolving around British naval operations in North America in 1774- early 1776.

She examined her face in the mirror: the brightness of the candle knew no clemency in revealing her age to her; they had once said of her that she had her mother's eyes, but the rest were her father's features: how long were they dead, how long since the last time someone had told her so, that remark the young girl had loathed, and yet the old woman longed for? The beginning of a little experiment in the way of alternative history that was developed together with @vankeppel- what if there was a Stuart heir to the throne, and the Hannovarians did not end up ruling from 1714 on? Lots of family secrets, guilt, and political hijinks ensue.

Als er ein Kind gewesen war, hatte seine Mutter ihm oft vorgelesen oder Geschichten erzählt: er erinnerte sich, als sei es gestern gewesen, wie er auf seiner Mutter schoß sitzend um eine letzte Geschichte vor dem Zubettgehen gefleht hatte; sie wusste manch toll-dreistes Abendteuer zu erzählen, und nicht selten waren ihre Helden edle Prinzen-- und das war auch äußerst zutreffend, bedachte man, wie sein Vater erst am Vortage ihn fauchend seiner vermeintlich weibisch-verweichlichten, losen Sitten gescholten hatte. This sort of ties in with its predecessor and is a present for @nordleuchten; what if George IV was never the prince regent, but a measly German prince who suffers from a colourful bouquet of first world problems (lace cravat not ironed correctly! Gasp!) and, out of boredom, quits to go to sea-- with unforeseen consequences.

If there's anything you'd like to hear more about, feel free to ask! I'm tagging any and all writers who wish to participate!

#r writes #tag game #reply #sanguinarysanguinity #first line game

[clove-pinks]

Ok, fine @sanguinarysanguinity. I wasn't going to share "Après le péché" mostly because it's too weird, not because it's too spicy (like Leçon de paysage or La femme du peintre).

I thought it was an angel with a flaming sword chasing Adam and Eve from paradise, not an old guy with a broom—but either way works.

There's the loin-masks seeming to express their true selves, but also why is Adam a bousingot, complete with the silly hat?? It was up to Eve to investigate the Tree of Knowledge since Adam was too busy smoking and reading Le Charivari.

#paul gavarni #scènes de la vie intime #après le péché #1830s #romantic era #bousingot #you think i'm exaggerating he literally has a folded newspaper under his arm

[silverfoxstole]

Inspired by @sanguinarysanguinity ‘s tag for last week’s gifset:

#it’s taken me a week to actually get round to drawing this but it got done eventually! #my art #hornblower #william bush #horatio hornblower #william bush wednesday #paul mcgann #ioan gruffudd #somewhere out of shot styles is laughing his head off

[tgarnsl]

Badly Summarized WIP Game

Thank you for tagging me, @sanguinarysanguinity!

Consider yourself tagged, if you haven't been already :-)

#my writing

[chiropteracupola]

tagged (some while ago) for heads up seven up by @borisyvain! manythanks!

due to The Grunk, I have not been writing very much of late, but here are seven lines (written Some Time Ago) of the still-nebulous early eighteenth century vampire story for you...

By now the fall of the dark curling hair over the strong forehead was familiar to him — the captain was a man just past the prime of his life, and in that early autumn which brought color to his face just as the first bruises come to a ripened apple. So too his tipsy state was a treat to Marcellus, who had become accustomed to taking his own drink without that seasoning. To partake of Rowlandson while he was in liquor — that made another taste of the man entirely, and Marcellus found that he liked that new taste very well. And to see Rowlandson looking up at him with those great dark eyes, the pupils blown wide so as to encompass nearly the full span of the iris — that too Marcellus liked. He drew another draught off of Rowlandson’s wrist, licking the wound clean of spilt blood when he had finished, and held the limp hand for a moment, for even though he had finished with it, it was still very warm in his own. Rowlandson panted his way through a breath — it was terribly warm on Marcellus’s skin, and smelled harshly of brandy and iron. This time, it was Marcellus who flinched, and Rowlandson who grasped for him, with a feeble twitch of drink-numbed fingers.

and I shall tag... @dxppercxdxver, @tgarnsl, @baronetcoins, and @sanguinarysanguinity, if you'd like to join in?

#em writes stuff #oc time again hehe #blood of the ash-tree #pspspsps vampiretime enjoyers. the men are doing gothic Activities to each other again. #someday I will draw these two but they do not very much exist in my brain as People Who Can Be Drawn. #mayhap when I have more Brain Function I will make moodboards. that'd be nice.