#tam the blue hour

[toddsblack]

Gun Atthaphan characters text posts.

1 - Dome (Midnight Museum), 2 - Tam (The Blue Hour), 3 - Third (Theory of Love), 4 - The One (Midnight Museum), 5 - Black (Not Me), 6 - Punn (The Gifted), 7 - Chan (Midnight Museum), 8 - Nonsee (The War of Flowers)

#gun atthaphan #text post #text posts meme #the gifted series #the gifted text post #the gifted punn #punn taweesilp #midnight museum #dome midnight museum #the one midnight museum #chan midnight museum #midnight museum spoilers #text posts #tam the blue hour #the blue hour #third theory of love #theory of love #not me black #not me incorrect quotes #not me series #not me the series #babii #nonsee #nonsee the war of flowers #the war of flowers #non the war of flowers

[maverickbabes]

Late Night Rides

Late Night Rides

Jake x female!navi!reader

Warnings: no warnings its just cuteness

Summary: Jake surprises his yawne with a late night ride around the forest.

a/n: might change the reader into one of my characters later on idk yet :p. Enjoy!

yawne (n) - beloved

"nga yawne lu oer" - "I love you"

"tam tam" - "it's okay"/"there there"

Jake was putting some supplies away while you were on the other side of the hut, getting situated on your guy's mat. A thought popped into his head and a smile formed on his lips. He sets the items down before walking over to you, wrapping his arms around you.

"Hi ma Jake" You hummed, leaning into his body. He doesn't say anything as he grabs your hands, lifting you to your feet as he gets up as well. "Jake what are you doing?" You asked smiling as he leads you out of your guy's hut, sprinting into the woods.

You reached for his arm to halt him, receiving a look of confusion from him. "What are you doing yawne?" He asks as he raises an eyebrow at you. "I could ask you the same thing ma yawne, what are we doing running in the forest?" You questioned as you wrap your arms around his neck.

"Do you trust me?" He asks as he places his hand on your cheek and you immediately nod. "I trust you with my life Jake" You assured him and he smiled before leaning down and leaving a soft kiss on your lips. "Then let's go" He smirks before grabbing your hand as he starts to sprint again.

The sounds of the creatures filled your ears as you guys ran, the floor glowing with every step you took. After a few minutes, Jake stops before he lets out a call. Within seconds his banshee comes flying out the tree. "Tam tam Bob, tam tam" Jake coos to his ikran as he scratches it's chin. You watch Bob calm down just from the touch of his rider's hand moving softly on his neck before letting out a chuckle.

"What's so funny hmm?" He says as he gets up on his ikran with ease. "I still can't believe you named your ikran Bob" You gently graze your hand on the creature's neck while Jake leans his hand for you to grab. You grabbed onto his hand before hoisting yourself up onto Bob and wrapping your arms around Jake's waist. "You ready darling?" He asks and you press your chest against his back and nod.

Without warning, Bob unfurls his wings and takes flight, letting out a roar in the process. "Ah shit!" You yelp as you tighten your grip on Jake. He laughs as he nods to Bob to straighten out and you smack his thigh in response. "Warning next time ma Jake" You scolded playfully before relaxing your body.

The warm Pandora air kissed your blue skin and blew through your braids gently as you let out a carefree laugh. "Woo-hoo!" You shouted as your golden eyes sparkled with the stars in the night sky. A comfortable silence filled the air between you two as Jake placed his hand on your thigh, the other hand keeping you guys steady.

"This is amazing Jake" You said as you kissed his shoulder, him squeezing your thigh as he chuckled. "It is amazing. I wanted us to get away and let it be us two in our own world" He explains as he turns his head and gives a soft kiss on your cheek.

After an hour of gliding in the night sky, Jake lands on the ground and hops off his banshee's back before grabbing you by the waist and helping you down. Jake pets the banshee and it shakes its large head before flying up into the tree. You grabbed his hand and started walking back to your guy's hut, content and happiness filling your body.

"We definitely need to do that more often ma yawne" You whispered as you entered your guy's hut. "And we will, we can even be sneaky with it like tonight" Jake says winking as he picks you up bridal style, laying you down gently on the mat. "Nga yawne lu oer" You said kissing his chest and he wraps his arms tightly around you.

"Nga yawne lu oer ma yawne"

#jake sully x reader #jake sully #avatar jake sully x reader #avatar jake sully #jake sully imagine #jake sully smut #avatar the way of water #avatar #avatar twow #avatar x reader #avatar x y/n #avatar smut #dilf jake sully #avatar way of water #jake sully x reader smut #jake sully x oc #jake sully avatar #jake sully x y/n #jake sully fluff

[ab4eva]

CONGRATS ON 1K, BABY!!! 💗🎉 you deserve it, luv.

blurb with prompt nr. 9 with el? 👀 you already know i need me song angst, baby!

Tam, thank you baby! We live for angst don’t we?! I hope this is angsty enough for ya! Xo 🩷

Prompt #9 with Elvis Presley - “You need to wake up because I can’t do this without you.”

-

“Mr. Presley?” A faraway voice was speaking somewhere above him, probably to his father. He didn’t feel old enough to be called that. “Mr. Presley?” The voice said again and Elvis startled as a nurse’s hand settled gently on his shoulder and he looked up at her with a blank stare, tired blue eyes blinking slowly. Poor dear, thought the nurse, he hasn’t slept in two days.

Two days since you went into labor with the twins. Two days since complications arose just after their birth and the doctors had to forcefully remove Elvis from the delivery room, crying and fighting them every step of the way, terrified he’d never see you alive again. Two days since the doctors did everything they could but you went into a coma anyway. Two days as a father but that barely seemed to register with Elvis as he rarely left your bedside, sometimes just holding your hand. And sometimes, in the wee hours of the morning, he crawled into bed with you, wrapping his long body around your smaller one, laying his head on your shoulder and weeping like a little boy. The nurses could hear him from the hallway as he repeated one thing over and over again like a prayer - “You need to wake up because I can’t do this without you.” More often than not everyone within earshot ended up crying right along with the King of Rock n Roll.

The nurses brought the babies to him to hold every day for a little bit. One boy and one girl. He couldn’t bear to name them, not yet. Not without you. Even though you’d talked about names together, laughing in bed at Graceland at the silly ones and growing serious when you talked about naming one after his mother if you had a girl. He still couldn’t bring himself to name them, make it official. He was stubborn. He would wait. If he just waited, everything would be ok.

Now the nurse places the baby boy in his arms while the little girl sleeps in a bassinet next to him. Two little cherubs in pink and blue blankets, matching tufts of blonde hair. Baby boy squirms with his tiny fists clenched and makes little mewling noises. He lets out a high-pitched howl and Elvis bends over him, running a finger across his cheek to soothe him. When he looks up, he’s stunned to see your bleary, confused eyes staring back at him. He breathes a prayer of thanks as he gathers you in his arms, baby and all.

-

One more day to join my celly here!

#darling tam! #ab4eva’s 1k celly #elvis presley #elvis #elvis blurb #written by ab4eva #elvis fanfiction

[elvisabutler]

sentimental over you

summary: sometimes your fiancé's insomnia has its perks. namely that he'll let you sleep while your daughter and him have a little one on one time. rating: g, it's literally a baby on big daddy's chest. like what was i gonna do to it. pairing: big daddy elvis x female reader word count: 867 warnings: fluff. talk about elvis's insomnia. babies being babies and not sleeping like adults with nine to fives. it's tame, i'm being silly with these warnings. though there is unsafe sleeping practices in that a baby in any bed that isn't a crib for the first chunk of their life is technically speaking a no-no in the us now. author's note: literally blame this on the at least two times i saw someone come into- god i think it was daisy's and tam's inboxes mentioning elvis and babies and being adorable. i just wanted to write fluff and this has been in my head since i read those things. also i did mention curly hair in relation to the baby so know this is meant to be both for poc and non-poc readers.

Elvis would like to argue that both times he's had a child, first with Lisa, his Yisa and then with little Crystal, Lisa's lil Crys-Crys- he hadn't actually planned for them to come when they did. Lisa coming nine months to the day of his and Priscilla's wedding and yours- well yours right after you had just gotten engaged. You could have been married for when she was born but you had put your foot down, telling Elvis that under no uncertain terms were you going to be walking down the aisle with your belly as round as it was in a wedding dress.

You haven't gotten married yet and there's a nebulous promise from both of you to each other that once Crystal is sleeping through the night comfortably you'll get married. At the rate she was going, you and him would be an old married couple without the marriage part before she decided it was a cool thing to sleep. You've gotten used to waking up in the middle of the night and it used to be to feed her but nowadays it's just to have her look at you with eyes so blue you swear no part of your genes even entered the equation when it came to figuring out her eye color. Sometimes she's crying, other time she's just making noise but tonight- tonight you find yourself sleeping past your normal wake up time. Tonight you find that you sleep past the midnight hour, the witching hour for your daughter and into the early morning hours of 4AM. What wakes you up is the low murmur of your fiancé singing.

You blink slowly, your eyes trying to focus in the low light of the room. It takes you a minute or five to actually notice that it's not just him in the bed next to you, that there's a soft cooing noise being made on his chest. Crystal doesn't sleep with the both of you ever, unless she's sick and even then one of you is usually awake to make sure she's alright. Last you had checked when you put her to bed in her crib she was fine, there was no real reason for her to be making noises on Elvis's chest. Elvis is too engrossed in singing to your daughter to notice much of anything in relation to you waking up and hearing him sing a version of one of your favorite Ella Fitzgerald songs does bring you a bit of joy that you don't want to pop just yet by announcing your awake state. When he stops his hand moves to play with your daughter's hair, taking note of the curls starting to finally grow. The jury was still out on how tight they would be but you were hoping for a potential middle ground between your hair and Elvis's.

"Ya gonna go back t'sleep lil one? Gonna let Daddy put ya back in your crib all nice and comfy?" He whispers to her, almost trying to bargain with her like that was ever something that worked with babies. Crystal's answering whimper as he starts to shift in the bed to attempt to get up answers for him. "Gotcha, ain't gonna move from this spot I guess. Gonna have mama wake up t'you all curled up like a cat on me. How we gonna explain that t'her?"

You can't help the tiny giggle that escapes your lips at the last part before you see Elvis's head turn to look at you with Crystal's head following suit, blinking slowly. "Satnin. You supposed t'be sleepin'."

You hum, moving a little closer so that you can nuzzle noses with him and then with your daughter. "Was. Singing woke me up. She been up long?"

"Half 'n hour. She's gettin' drowsy. Gonna have her out like a light in no time." He says with all the confidence in the world. "Go back t'sleep. We'll be here in the mornin'."

You shake your head. "Sing us both to sleep? Maybe even yourself?"

Elvis looks at you and looks at your daughter- your daughter that both of you made together- and exhales. "Drive a hard bargain y'know that?" But he aquises nonetheless, moving his arm out so that you can scoot closer, and place your head near Crystal's on his chest and a soft kiss to her nose. Your arm drapes across his stomach, pulling him closer as you hear him start to sing again.

Crystal falls asleep first, a small yawn leaving her body before she burrows into Elvis's chest, turning it into a warm and comfy little pillow. You feel your eyes starting to droop soon after but then you hear a light snore coming from Elvis instead of singing. You glance up and a smile crosses your lips, he fell asleep mid-song. You follow soon after and the next time you wake up it's to the first rays of sunlight entering your room casting a light on your future husband and your daughter's face that makes your heart full to bursting.

Maybe a few more minutes of shuteye wouldn't hurt. After all, they'll be there in the morning- the later morning.

They were.

#elvis presley #elvis presley fanfic #elvis presley imagine #elvis presley fluff #elvis presley x reader #big daddy elvis #elvis presley x y/n #elvis presley x you #ally writes #i don't know what has come over me. #apologies for basically seeing that idea and being bitten by the urge to write this. #( i really just needed a fluff interlude to my life. )

[flowerflamestars]

Timeloop au snippet

A scarce half hour later, Lucien’s morning had wrapped right around itself to the same exact problem. Again, between the abject falsehood of Nesta’s fragile mortal body, and Tamlin, right on the edge of something ruinous. He was staring at the blood on her hands. Not all faeries bled red- even to the human eye there was a distinction in shades. Some fae, born of just enough Spring in them, bled like tree sap, gleaming sticky gold. Thin. Dripping from the white strain of Nesta’s knuckles, a sort of uneasy mixed pink of muddled High Fae heritage. “What,” Tamlin snapped, cold, cold, and faraway, “In the name of all your damned mortal gods, do you think you’re doing?” The game was already up. The game was just beginning, another life, another moment, Nesta’s beautiful face set in a truth she could not entirely act away. Lucien’s heart might have given out, in sheer unremitting fondness. If he wasn’t sick on the grass first. “You promised,” Nesta’s human voice still cut, but she was trying, almost making it, to something softer. Quieter. “You promised. Faeries cannot break their vows, even I know that.” “Tam,” Lucien tried, nausea filling his throat. “You said,” Nesta continued, like he hadn’t spoken at all, “No one would harm him. No harm. How are any of us to survive what it so come if we are not even safe from- from”- Finally, belatedly, Tamlin looked from the wet brick in her hand, yanked from an ancient folly wall, to the crumbled, caved in, blue figure between them. 

#no grave can hold my body down #I saved the best for last and by the best I mean PURE CHAOS #a true acotar Tamlin staggering in war with a broken heart #and? Nesta goddamn Archeron killing faeries with bricks because she is having A BAD TIME #is the best path the clearest? the hardest? the easiest? #the messiest #what happens in a timeline where ACOMAF DOES NOT GET TO HAPPEN HMMM #somewhere Eris is waking up in a cold sweat realizing his wife is about to come home and like. nothing is ready #Elain meanwhile: hello yes this is GREYHOUND FROM THE CONTINENT can I get some lamb please? raw? twelve pounds? thank you so much #all of Nesta's ferocity exists to protect those she loves #I'm going insane over this draft

[rafasbiscuits]

thanks for the tag @yoellglia ily for always remembering me mwah😘

hot shower or cold shower // texting or calling // earbuds or headphones // paperback or hardcover // matte or gel // 12 hour clock or 24hour clock // blue or green // sunsets or sunrises // tulips or orchids // candlelight or moonlight // sci-fi or horror // pen or pencils // pandas or koalas // gold or silver // sneakers or boots // denim jacket or leather jacket // pink or purple // chocolate or sour candy // drive-in movie theatre or the cinema // pastel colours or neutral earth tones // lemonade or fruit juice // past or future // constellations or aurora borealis

tagging: (anyone really its actually been awhile since ive done this and i miss it) and, um, @tam-is-blogging @a-swiss-and-a-spaniard @dixons-lut @jcferrero @sebandlewis @forza-azzurrisempre @cryingforcrocodiles @thefrootloopman @kingfisherprince @hubillusion @bluskype @janesurlife

#u cant make me choose constellations or aurora borealis #those two are my literal obsessions i cant choose #so ik its not the rule but im choosing both #i tagged too many didnt i?😭 #tag game #i like gold when its combined with darker colours #but overall im a silver jewellery girl #so idk i love both #and ive also never went to a drive-in movie theatre. also dont have boots and wtf is matte or gel

[m4gp13]

Day 4: Colours / Fluff

Ethabaster (Ethan x Alabaster)

Word Count - 1121

@them-awesome-rarepairs

-

Ethan didn't really believe in hypnosis. He knew there was likely some psychological explanation for a lot of the shit people passed off as 'real hypnosis' but he was sure that no amount of staring into a spiral would make him lose complete control of his own mind.

All that being said, he'd be hard-pressed to answer if someone asked exactly how long he'd been staring at Alabaster's eyes. They both had a free day and decided to spend it in a secluded corner of the Mt Tam wilderness; basking in the late August remnants of the summer sun while they stretched out on the meadow’s grass. When Ethan first arrived on the mountain, he thought it was beautiful. It was like a perfectly preserved capsule of nature that gleamed like an emerald against the concrete jungles he was used to. Next to Alabaster's eyes, however, it all looked quite dull.

They were green like you never saw green before. Ethan could sit racking his brain for hours to find a good point of comparison and come up empty every time. There simply didn't exist anything like them. Wholly unique. Just like Al. The green wasn’t just one shade of green. In fact, it looked almost like he contained them all. His eyes were terrariums housing every tree on Earth. There were deep, sombre tones that narrowed into pine needles, there were delicate flecks of the pale wash that hid on the undersides of sycamore leaves and there were dappled spots and prismatic streaks of the radiant spotlights of the sun’s rays shining through foliage. All the different colours mingled and mixed, slicing through each other or fading together, like a geode studded with a harmonious menagerie.

Had they been spirals, Ethan would have fallen victim to them long ago.

Perhaps thankfully, they weren’t focused on him. Al took them to a luscious spot in the meadow teaming with wildflowers and found a patch of daisy-sized blue flowers that he was busy weaving into a daisy chain. His long fingers danced around the interlocking stems and plucked every perfectly sized flower from the dirt with blind ease as his eyes never left his project. Ethan was content to just lay on his side and watch him. His hand ran through the grass, wrapping a length of it around his finger to keep his body occupied while his mind wandered.

Al reached over to grab a flower closer to Ethan and their eyes met. "What are you staring at?" His brows quirked up as he grinned a purely feline grin. "See something you like?"

"Yeah," Ethan answered casually.

Al's face froze and from the back of his throat came a squeaking sound like a dying kitten. Ethan couldn't help it. He bubbled over in a fit of laughter. “Shut up!” Al cried between his own bursts of laughter. He cast his eyes back down to his project and busied his hands with continuing it but the wide grin remained fixed in place. Ethan propped his chin up on his first and watched him work.

His long fingers were swift and dexterous as they wove the flower stems into an intricate band. They remained steady and light as they formed arches and looped that were quickly filled in or tightened around yet more greenery. He leaned his head forward in concentration, making little curls and stray locks of his light brown hair fall over his eyes. It was messy and unkempt and flyaway strands stuck up in every direction while the rest fought to escape his ponytail but it was a beautiful tawny array. It offset his eyes very well, just like the rest of his face. His golden brown summer tan still lingered and the sun that brought the colour out also deepened his little freckles which scattered across his face like strawberry seeds. The contrast of browns all around and the final ring of white encircling them made his eyes look like they were glowing. Or maybe they actually were. It was hard to tell with Hecate kids.

When Al’s work was finally done, he laid the flower crown over his head. The green stems looked morbidly dull so close to his vivid eyes.

“What’s your favourite colour?” Ethan asked out of the blue.

“Green,” Al answered. There wasn’t a second of hesitation. Ethan wasn’t even sure he’d finished talking before Al told him, still adjusting his circlet of not-daisies. “What’s yours? Wait!” He twisted around to face him; a grin flashing bright on his face. “Can I guess?”

Ethan's face morphed into a matching smile all on its own. “Sure, be my guest.”

“Red? No, wait.” Al leaned closer. “Purple?”

A week ago he might have said yes to either. The truth was, he never really bothered with favourite colours, just ones he felt more comfortable wearing. Reds and purples could be dark but didn’t turn him into a shadow man. Now, though, he had different ideas. “Green as well,” he told him.

Al tilted his head to the side and looked Ethan up and down. “What do you like about it?”

“It’s your colour.”

His eyes went wide; further exaggerating the deep greens in a sea of white. “Oh,” he squeaked. “That–that’s the reason?”

“Yeah, I like all your colours.”

“All of them?” He tucked a curl behind his ear. “Care to elaborate?”

Ethan stretched out on the grass and smiled up at him. “Your eyes are green in a way that makes every other green thing look sickly. Your hair is a very warm brown that reminds me of trees and summers. Oh, and now your face is a lovely rosy pink.”

“Stop!” Al laughed and buried his face in his hands, but Ethan could see his grin past them.

“You’re the one who asked for this!” Ethan sat up so he was face-to-face with Al and wrapped his hands around his wrists. “Don’t hide from me now.” He lowered Al’s hands from his crimson face and took a moment to admire the way the colour contrasted with his eyes. In his attempt to hide himself, the chain of flowers had fallen over Al’s brow and was inching closer to covering his eyes. Ethan pushed it back in place atop his head. “This looks lovely,” he said softly.

“I could make you one too,” Al said. “The blue would look better on you than it does on me.”

“The blue looks fine on you.” Any colour would look fine on him, but Ethan had probably done enough waxing poetic about how pretty his general was. “Could you teach me how to make one?”

Al smiled and the pink undertones of his face flared brighter. “I would love to.”

-

#pjo #percy jackson #ethan nakamura #alabaster c torrington #alabaster torrington #ethabaster #pjorarepairs2023

[crystalline-sanders]

Hi! I'm curious about Pal and Lee, are they different SQUIPs? :0

Oh my God okay sorry I'm freaking out because I am so ready to talk about these two

Okay so!! So. To me they are different SQUIPs, because they're played so wildly different that they deserve to be separate guys. Lee is Jason Tam's Broadway version of the Squip, while Pal is Stewart Clarke's West End version of the Squip. They have completely different vibes and motivations and designs!! I could talk about them for hours but I'll do some bullet points.

Lee: Has one blue "tech" eye, blue nail polish, saturated skin, fluffy half tone hair, darker undereye eyeliner, and is typically depicted in the tech hoodie he arrives in. He is more computer-like, in the way that he goes about logic (he lives off if-then statements). He's determined to help Jeremy and thinks he's doing the right thing.

Pal: Bluer skin, black nail polish, sharp teeth, one white streak in his hair, eyeliner and eyeshadow, and is usually depicted in the tech dress or the final outfit. He is a drama queen and has anime villain vibes. Made himself the villain so Jeremy could be the hero and get the girl in the end.

No idea if any of this makes sense but I will go into more detail if it's requested, thank you so much for asking omg

#squip #bmc squip

[celluloidrainbow]

อนธการ | THE BLUE HOUR (2015) dir. Anucha Boonyawatana Bullied loner Tam finds solace in the arms of Phum, a boy he meets at a haunted swimming pool. Phum reveals that his family's land has been stolen and the new found lovers imagine a perfect life together on the disputed land. Haunted by a ghostly presence, Tam struggles to stay connected to reality. (link in title)

#lgbt cinema #gay cinema #onthakan #the blue hour #thai cinema #lgbt #gay #thailand #lgbt film #gay film #thai film #lgbt movie #gay movies #thai movie #lgbt media #gay media #queer cinema #asian cinema #atthaphan phunsawat #oabnithi wiwattanawarang #2015 #2010s #2010s movies #2010s films #2010s cinema

[dcrankamateur]

Dawn of DC Comics – 3rd October – Fire and Ice, Blue Beetle and Birds of Prey #2s

My focus this week is on the second issues of Fire and Ice, Birds of Prey and Blue Beetle. After strong starts for all three series, the second issues varied drastically in terms of tone and pace to somewhat mixed results.

Fire and Ice: Welcome to Smallville #2

On a two axis scale of tragedy – comedy and deliberative – frenetic on tone and pace respectively, the frenetic comedy of Fire and Ice worked best for me this week. Joanne Starer and Natacha Bustos’ sitcom-style storytelling suits the diametrically opposite personalities of Fire and Ice well. Where the last issue ended on somewhat of a downbeat, with Tora announcing to Bea that she no longer wanted to be a superhero, the mere fact that these two women with such a rich history but with wildly differing aspirations and motivations have to live under one roof lends itself brilliantly to comedy.

In her conceptions of both characters, Starer is blatantly as sticking to type to accentuate the awkwardness of the pairing. Tora is the bookish hipster with a desire to expand her interests and cooling on the superhero game whereas for Bea the need to prove herself burns brighter than ever. The plot ratchets up to pure absurdity as their Smallville Barber Shop becomes inundated with the minnows of the supervillain world before becoming a low budget reality TV show with Big Brother style diary rooms held in the toilets, much to a queuing and increasingly desperate Tam’s chagrin. Bustos’ art is quite classically cartoonish in this issue, with over the top reactions from background characters in particular emphasising the farcical nature of Bea’s plan and its effect on Tora. The jokes really landed and I found myself laughing throughout. But the fun does stop eventually as Bea’s social media experiment begins to verge on dangerous, and tensions fray between her and Tora once again. However, in classic sitcom fashion, the arrival of Jimmy Olsen at the end of the issue ensures that Bea and Tora live to fight another die.

Blue Beetle #2

That said, Bea and Tora are certainly better off in their own series than they are during their appearance in the tragic and frenetic Blue Beetle #2. After an initial moment of contemplation as Ted Kord lies injured in hospital, in which Tora comforts Jaime, the issue moves at a million miles an hour as the Blood Scarab rips through the supporting cast of the issue one by one before getting to Jaime and declaring that that’s enough for one issue, thanks. Be back soon.

The action scenes are so dynamic and fast moving without being overwhelming largely because writer Josh Trujillo trusts Adrian Gutierrez to convey the chaos during these scenes. Occasional dialogue, typically reserved for characters remarking upon how screwed they are, serves as framing for Gutierrez’s creative use of panelling, which evokes the feeling of the Blood Scarab closing in on its victim, leaving them nowhere to run.

As a new reader my biggest issue with this series so far is that I actually don’t know much about Jaime Reyes himself so I’ve found it harder to connect with him than with the characters I’ve been introduced to in other Dawn of DC stories. This is not the writer’s fault, and I’m certainly not advocating a return to Shooter’s Marvel of the 80s where the first page gives you the entire character’s history all over again. I may be getting into background reading and research time which I believe is absolutely fine to expect of a reader, although not within the scope of this project initially.

Birds of Prey #2

In stark contrast to Blue Beetle, Birds of Prey #2 was rather more introspective and dialogue focussed. The team dynamics, by design, continue to be comedically awkward with each team members’ motivations being tested by a mission they signed up to without full possession of the facts. The pop art style doesn’t quite work as well as it did in Issue 1, with the lengthy conversations between team members feeling quite stiff. Bellaire’s colours feel slightly washed out because of the darkness of the setting (a dimly lit basement room), which contributes to this lack of momentum in the scene. The tension between Harley Quinn and Black Canary drive provide the scenes with the most comedic energy, but the other team feels peripheral. This means that when characters like Zealot and Barda receive a bit of focus, they are brief and less compelling. The series in its early stage are an intentional pivot away from the warmth and friendship of Gail Simone’s conception of the team, which can make it feel unrecognisable as a Birds of Prey series at times. That said, friendships aren’t forged overnight, and there are already signs of promise between Barda and Cassandra Cain for example, so I’m not writing this off as a destination point for the series.

Where the issue does excel is in the fight scenes, where Romero’s style becomes much more kinetic, with the setting lending itself far more to pops of pastel colours. This issue serves as a bridge between the opening salvo of the team come together for the first time and their mission in Themyscira. With the team leaving the darkened basement and taking to the sea, King Shark in tow, the comedic tone to the series should come into its own.

#dc comics #fire and ice #blue beetle #birds of prey #jaime reyes #black canary #harley quinn #cassandra cain #big barda

[eldritchdiplomacy]

The din of the Dwarven District was a familiar, dim thrum in Thoran's ears as he worked. His strong arm, roped in muscle, bringing his hammer down on the anvil and shaping another standard, city guard style sword. It'd be a day like any other, were it not a Friday, and as such his cousins were crowding 'round for the end of his work day, and the coming Brawler's Night.

"Uncle Ham has ten gold on ya, I hear," A trilling, teasing voice rang out, and the 19 year old half-orc just shook his head, smirking.

"Uncle Ham's a paladin of th' church, if he DID bet on my fights, no way you'd know about it," He tossed over his shoulder. Seated on a crate behind him, 15-year-old Rose McAlister pushed out a pout, blowing her rose-red locks out of her face.

"I heard it from a bus boy at th' Keg, he works with Aun' Tam!"

"So, not Merida, yer best friend, but a bus boy," Thoran laughed, tossing a flawless, if simple, army-standard blade onto a pile, before turning and thrusting another slab of iron into the nearest forge, "...You all need some fresh entertainment in yer lives."

"Thus, why we're here," His eldest cousin (by two minutes) piped up, 18 year old Kern McAlister tossing his little sister a hard candy from the pocket of his kitchen apron, before undoing the ties and tossing the apron over his shoulder. Kern's shift in the Keg's kitchens had ended an hour earlier. "...Fer true, though, half the staff was talkin' about the fight tonight, regardless of rumor."

"Woooonderful," Thoran grumbled, pounding away at his last blade for the day. Directly to Kern's right, removing a leather butcher's apron, his other cousin Nate, Kern's twin, was chuckling as well. Both lads were dark-haired, like their mother, but with the broad, strong frame of their da, Thoran's uncle Tristen. His human, worgen, headlander family were all that way - broad like a barn, dark brown to ginger of hair and every shade between them, and far too easy to prod.

Light, he was the half-orc, olive-skinned, with long thick auburn braids and tusks that poked juuuust enough above his lower lip to make life complicated, and he had more calm than most of 'em.

Presently, he just met Nate's eye with a smirk.

"I mean, I'm up against VaanDaam," Thoran made a show of rolling his shoulder in a shrug, hammering into the sword louder, "It's an easy bet, really..." His smirk widened as he heard Rose groan, his twin cousins laugh...

"Hilarious," A prim, rather exasperated voice cut through them, though, and Thoran's arm stopped short, "You DO know I ended up patching VaanDaam's last opponent, yes?"

Thoran swallowed, turning to spot Abityria Lorcain hauling herself up to sit on the crate next to Rose. Her Neophite robes so pristine, even after 8 hours training and healing at the Cathedral. She was pushing a gloved hand through her long black curls, her blue eyes settling on his face as she went on.

"He kicked a man's kidney clear across the ring, Thoran."

"I just...won't let him kick my kidneys?" was all that came out of his mouth, faced with her perfect, pale, judging face. Bit snorted, shaking her head, looking away.

"....You're lucky I can fix pretty much anything."

.

.

.

@hamadeus1133 @theacidvats @alterac

#Thoran O'Donnelly #Abityria Lorcain #RP Characters #Tamsin O'Donnelly #McAlisters #wyrmrest accord #world of warcraft

[1nksta1neddesk]

A Court of Readers and Dreamers

Chapter 10: Stare Into Forever

The next day passed with no word from either Lucien or Tamlin, which left me with a whole day to sit in the library until Alis fetched me for a lonely dinner that I left from as quickly as possible.

The morning of Calanmai had my blood thrumming since the moment I had woken up, a book denting my side from where I had fallen asleep on top of it. I stayed in my room until late morning, dressing in the clothes I had hidden after a boiling bath that left my skin radiating steam.

Alis weaved my hair into a crown after a late lunch, speckled with wildflowers that I hadn’t registered her placing between the strands. Now I stood in front of the mirror, looking at my face framed with petals of daisies and small blooms of yellow chrysanthemums. It didn’t fully compliment my clothes, though I supposed they were meant to make me look more like I belonged in Spring Court while my clothes were a subtle opposition to it.

My eyes moved from the flowers held around my head and down to the outfit that adorned me, despite Alis’ protests when she had seen me that morning. Flowing dark cotton pants, just shy of black with the complimenting white thread that hemmed it, the cuffs at the ankles gathering the fabric in elegant pleats that dispersed as the pants traveled up farther. Ties held the waistband close to my skin. Where the waistband ended just below my navel, an equally flowing blouse started, hanging from my shoulders where it had no sleeves, the side of my arms bare to the open air where they showcased the speckling of freckles that had formed from countless hours in the perpetual spring sun. The blouse shimmered silver with soft casts of blue and purple only to be seen when catching light at certain angles.

I looked positively Night Court, if it wasn’t for those yellow and white sparks at my head ,that I was starting to convince myself they looked like burning stars. I looked back at Alis, grinning in a way that had her face pinching.

“I do wish you would let me put you in a dress, if only just once.” I scrunch my nose at her playfully before I adjusted an imaginary piece of stray hair. The first thump of a drum from across those rolling hills beat sent my heart fluttering.

I shooed Alis off, telling her to enjoy the Rite and that she deserved the night off. She was reluctant untill she was past the door of my room, at which point she gave a shallow dip of her head accompanied with a thank you before she disappeared down the hall. I closed the door behind her, rushing over to the window and drawing back the curtains that dampened those thunderous beats.

One beat, a call, followed by two quickly after one another, an answer. They called for whoever may be to come to them, to revel in them, but I resisted, if only for now. I sat down in the chair that usually belonged to the breakfast table, and let the rays of sun that were still high in the sky warm the back of my shoulders as I slipped on my usual boots that hugged close enough to my leg to not disrupt the pleats of the pants as I hid them.

I was alone for maybe 30 minutes before I heard a knock on my door. I got up slowly and opened the door as casually as I could, hopeful my plans weren't compromised. Tamlin stood there, baldric across his bare chest as he heaved a breath, shifting the red fletched arrows that sat just behind his shoulder. I watched him as he looked back at me, each assessing each other's attire.

“Can I help you with anything Tam?” I said with the sweetest voice I could, as naturally as I could, as his eyes raked down the blouse. More specifically to the tanned cleavage that was exposed from the top buttons being undone as I had been pacing with anticipation sparked anxiety.

His voice was gruff as his eyes traveled back to meet mine, catching at my lips for a moment that I did not miss. “Stay in the house, no matter what tonight. Lock your door even, tonight is not a night for human company amongst faeries.”

I nodded my head, slightly shielding my body behind the door that was still just partially opened as I did so. “I will keep that in mind High Lord, enjoy the Rite.” I moved to fully shut the door, but his hand caught it.

“I mean it Feyre, stay in your chambers” He retracted his hand and was already gone as I peered through the crack in the door at the hallway. I loosed a tense breath and backed away from the door as I let it click shut. I moved back towards the window just in time to see Tamlin stalking through the garden.

Predator, pure predator as he moved, quickly disappearing to where the first trails of smoke swirled in the sky. I let the cooling spring night air kiss my face, carrying the twinge of smoke and the growing scent of rose and cut grass as I still stared to where those bonfires now burned.

I let night fall, let the thumps of the drums guide me as I let time slip by as I moved my feet, finding an old rhythm as they called for me. Come it whispered into my blood, Come See . My stomach growled as I drank water from the pitcher that had become a constant companion on that breakfast table. I let hours tick by, occasionally falling to my bed to scream into one of the pillows whenever the emotions boiling in my chest became too much.

10 o’clock hit as I was running out of the garden doors, dark cloak billowing around me as I was halfway careful to not cause too much noise as I snuck into the stables. Ceres, the white horse I had been riding since my first day in spring, already had her head lounging out of the stall, eager for treats as she heard my feet. Luckily I had taken to riding her bareback on patrols, and was quickly atop her.

With no need for a guide she set off, a soft trot over foot hills. I sat low on her back, pulling the hood of the cape as far forward as it would go to hide the smooth arches of my ear. The scent of smoke and flowering blooms was quickly growing stronger as I brought Ceres to the edge of the gamepark woods that I had hidden in two days before. I dismounted from her and she understood my intention as she found a comfortable spot in the wooded grasses to lay down in.

I could not see the faces of the faeries around me as I passed, that dense glamor still in my senses as I skirted around the edge of those blazing flames. Past the drums, past the mingling faeries around the mouth of the shadowed cave, to stand by the tree line, still just barely in the glow of the fires.

I waited, ignoring the faeries around as I watched the flickers of flame from my distance. Minutes passed where nothing happened and my legs were starting to tingle. A grumble as I shifted the weight on my legs, and of course it was the moment I felt ready to complain about the waiting when a hand grabbed me and spun me around.

Three pict males were behind me, two flanking the central one grasping my arm, who smiled down at me, revealing pointed teeth. “Human woman,” he murmured, running an eye over me, my free hand itching to gather the fabric of the cloak to cover wherever his eyes touched. “We’ve not seen one of you for a while.”

I was doubting my plan as I tried to shake his hand from my arm as I looked at the two behind him. “Leave me alone Bastards” that gripped tighten as he pulled me further towards him.

“Why? Can we not enjoy some fire night revelries with such a sweet prize ” Fiery fear lit my veins as I definitely knew this was a mistake. Another pict hand pulled my hood back before plucking a flower from the braid that was still twisted at the top of my head.

I cursed at them, “Let me go.” I did my best to hiss at them, ripping my still free arm away as I felt fingers ghost at the skin.

“Bold words for a human on Calanmai.” The third one hissed in my ear as it caught the arm I jerked away as the one in front of me. “Once the Rite’s performed, we’ll have some fun, won’t we? A treat—such a treat—to find a human woman here.”

That one in front of me, the ring leader, placed its other hand at my hip, roving up to the skin under my blouse at my waist. I did not hesitate the moment I felt the thin fingers at my skin as I slammed my head forward, knocking our heads together with a crack. The hand jerked away as the owner grabbed at his head, his other hand still at my arm tightening painfully as I saw a small well of black blood on its forehead. I smiled at the small victory for having a hard head before more hands were on me, restricting as much as leading me towards the woods.

I pushed back, kicking at the shin of the one that held me, but those fingers did not loosen. I pulled back, broadcasting the fear of a cornered animal around me as the hands on me tightened, bruising now as I was slowly tugged towards the forest line. I dug the heels of my boots into the ground while I twisted my arms and torso around, trying to break from their grip.

Two twin lines of ripped grass followed behind us as I resisted more. I kicked at them more, trying to rip my arms away from their bruising grips, but every time I knocked a hand away, another was somewhere else, sharp nails scratching at my skin. He was supposed to be here already, swooping in like Prince Charming saving a Damsel as that tree line grew nearer and nearer, meters turning to feet.

One of the hands landed over my mouth as I went to shout at them, and on impulse I opened my mouth and bit down on two of those bony fingers, oily blood spilling into my mouth as bone crunched. The creature shrieked as I spat the vile blood out of my mouth, sputtering as the two others faltered, two hands pushing me towards the shadows as another one faltered at seeing its ilk cradle a mangled hand. My legs knocked together and with the open space behind me, I fell.

The expectation of stony dirt under me was replaced by a large hand under each of my arms. I tilted my head back and couldn’t control the smile that spread across my face at the glimpse of violet eyes under neatly slick black hair. He eased me back to my feet as the faeries stared with wide eyes at the presence of the High Lord behind me.

“There you are. I’ve been looking for you.” His voice eased the pounding of my heart, replacing it with a new fear that simmered at my skin. Rhys’ hand shifted from my side as he took a step to stand next to me, a warm arm draped over my shoulders. I resisted the urge to turn my head up at him, at least not while I kept my eyes on the three soon to be dead faeries in front of us.

“Thank you for finding her for me,” he said, and if his voice was so smooth that the silk of my tunic felt like burlap against my skin,“Enjoy the Rite.” Threat loomed in his words as the males stumbled back, turning and pushing against each other as they scurried like rats back towards the fire.

With them gone I let my shoulder sag just a bit and twisted in Rhys’ arm, enough to keep its comfortable place and for me to peer up at him.

I had imagined him beautiful for years, but even after months of adjusting to the Fae beauty of Lucien and Tamlin my breath was stolen from my lungs. Short black hair gleamed under the barest flickers of fire light, his pale skin contrasting it like the moon in the night. I wanted to wince at the wane look of his skin, knowing the deep tan it should be holding if not for Amarantha holding him in her claws. But still I admired his sharp features, shadows pooling to smooth out the exhaustion that coated every beautiful feature. He looked me up and down, sensual and calculating at the same time.

I would never be able to chase his image from my mind, not as I slept, not as I woke, and definitely not as I spoke to him.

“Oh shit- hey.” I stuttered out, and I looked into his eyes and thanked every god I could and couldn’t name that I had made Tamlin de-glamor me as I stared into star-flecked night. They were blue, deep and unending as they twinged with violets and indigo, their depth speaking of light years as small splatters of silver peered through at me. Amusement sent the stars in his eyes shivering, twinkling like diamonds held on invisible strings.

“What is a mortal woman doing here on Fire Night?” Each word sent shivers licked up my spine at the lover's drawl coming from his mouth as he continued to bare his eyes into me. A smirk teased the corner of his lips as I replied.

“Enjoying the revelries before those pict bastards thought my presence was an open invitation,” I said, the words clipped and irritated as I dusted faked dirt from my pants and tunic. I spat out another wad of black tinged saliva as I inspected myself, hoping I would not have any lingering bruises from where they had gripped me.

“Oh, such profanity from such a lovely mouth. A mouth that I’m sure you know how to use if the hand of one of those bastards was any tell.”A pause where he stepped back and evaluated me. I tried to stand taller as he spoke again, “How does a mortal woman end up here on Fire Night?” I tried my best to look casual as I shrugged.

“My friend brought me, we live near.” Obvious lies that echoed Feyre’s. I knew he wouldn’t buy them, knew they would entice him as I saw echoes of pulsing shadows behind him, festering in his own cast light.

“And who is this friend?” Despite him not moving it felt as though he was leaning over me.

“No one you would know, but we will be staying for a few days, just for the celebrations.” I had my string cast and was slowly reeling it in with a giant shark at the other end of it. A moment of silence, both of us contemplating what to say next. Luckily I was not the one who had to break it,

“You're welcome.” He said as he looked away from me, picking at a non-existent piece of lint from his black tunic, “For saving you.”

It was enough for me to joke, set up a repertoire that I saw past that concrete mask, “Saved me? You must be mistaken, I think you saved those picts from me.” I pushed back the side of the cloak, revealing a low belt that held a glittering hunting knife. “Truely a stain on the world, males like that.”

I knew there was no guilt for the life of those bastards, still I reassured as a half cocked grin pulled his cheek back. I wished I could see him lively, with his family, a full grin across that achingly beautiful face filled with the color of sun and his wings spread and free. I realized I would sacrifice it all for him to have that, for the rest of Prythian to have that freedom, even if I was lost to the sands of eternity to achieve it. But I would let myself have tonight, an easy night where I could pretend the male in front of me wasn’t destined to someone else, someone I had replaced.

“I’ll remember not to save you next time, less I end up the one with the knife in me.” A mocking tilt of his head down, not a bow but close enough with the court eyes I knew watched for him. “Aren’t humans usually terrified of us? And aren’t you, for that matter, supposed to keep to your side of the wall?”

The question only caught me off guard for a moment before I waved a hand out dismissively, “So are you fae but plenty of you slip through anyway, at least I came to enjoy wine and food.” Wrong, my stomach felt hollow since I had skipped dinner in my impatience and was staunchly sober as I did not trust whatever was held by those tables I had seen faeries congregate as I slipped by the edges of the firelight.

“Food and drink will take a long while to come back. May I escort you somewhere in the meantime?” The beats of the drums steadied my heart as I looked at the arm he had offered me. Time was drawing near to where I had to flee back to the house, away from the High lord that was coming back from his hunt. I took the arm he offered, leaning against the warmth of the muscle I could feel beneath it.

“No thank you, I think I will turn in soon.”I saw a flicker of disappointment across his eyes, and knew I couldn’t walk away, not yet, “Though, I do think it would be a shame if I did not get a dance with my knight in shining armor.” I looked at his clothes, fine and pitch black, and unclipped my cloak to fold it just inside the glow of firelight. His tunic had silver threads at the seams, an inversion to the blouse I wore myself. He grinned down at me as he stepped back, his hand falling into place with mine before he spun me along with the music.

Though I knew this was dangerous for him, I flowed along with him. His hand was at my waist and I held his other as we fell deeper into the shadows of the woods, branches above us. Gaps in the leaves showed shining stars as my neck craned back and I laughed out to the sky. It was fun to let go, to enjoy the company of a male I knew I could trust.

His hands tightened against me, urging me to look back at those violet eyes. If the stars above truly were souls from the afterlife, I would not think it so cruel for me to become one of the ones held in his eye. His arms swept wide and we seperated for a moment, his hand guided me into a twirl. I felt the wind kiss at the skin that was revealed as the movement caught the silver fabric, careening it around me. I savored the cold kiss as he twisted me back in, his arm settling back down at my waist.

I bumped my hip, sliding his arm back to where I could now clasp both hands. This time I pulled him with me as I twisted, our feet hit the ground with heavy thumps that complimented the drums, and I almost recognized the beat to a song before a hand was pulling me away from him. I let out a small cry of shock at the loss of those warm hands before I was being placed behind a familiar male body, a wall of frazzled red hair before me.

Lucien was now holding me, pushing me behind him slightly as he looked at Rhys. “You were not invited, Rhysand.” He snarled it out and I tried to soothe a hand down his arm before he turned to me slightly, his metal eye staying fixed on Rhys. I saw those starry eyes sharpen at Lucien's bristle before he was smoothing out his shirt.

“I wasn’t aware that Calanmai had become private, Emissary.” Cold words, any warmth from his interactions with me gone. Still they held that feline tilt as Lucien still walled between us. I could feel the tension rising as Lucien paused, and interjected myself.

“I should not have asked you for a dance when I was already taken. Enjoy the Rite, sir.” A stiff nod from Lucien and I was pulling him away from Rhys, into the crowd of lesser faeries again. Lucien took over the path we were taking the moment we entered the swelling crowd, taking us to the opposite side of the celebration, back towards the game park.

“What were you thinking, Feyre?” His voice was seething as his grip on my arm tightened.

“I was thinking that I deserved to party along with everyone else.” I pulled the mask of an indignant mortal girl over myself as I ripped my arm from his grasp and crossed it across my chest.

“Idiot!” He was shouting now and a few faeries on the fringe looked towards us. “You were told to stay in your rooms! You useless Human fool.” I couldn’t protest as I was shucked over his shoulder. I pounded at his back as wind tore past us as he was running back towards the manor. The drums faded into the distant as their speed changed, beats closing in on eachother. I had been so lost in enjoying the small glimpse of Rhys that I had lost sense of time, lost sense of being.

Lucien only stopped running once we were in the manor, the grand hallway before us as he set me down. His hair was messy as he looked at me, anger making the personal glamor he had over himself shift for just a moment, hair blazing and eyes going molten.

His hands were at my shoulders as he lightly shook me, “You idiot! Didn’t he tell you to stay in your rooms?” Shame burned my ears and cheeks red like when I had come home past curfew.

I bowed my head as I apologized, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cause any trouble.” I looked back up at Lucien as his hands fell away from me, and found him rubbing at his temples.

“Go to your room, I have to go back out there and try and keep the blood spill to a minimum for when he smells you but cannot find you.” I did feel bad as I apologized again, he left and I half ran to my room, not knowing how far off Tamlin was.

I locked my door that night, closing the window that was almost always open, and slid one of the heavy bedside tables in front of the door. I fell asleep reading of herbs found in each court, alert for any sound. I had multiple hours of quiet sleep before a snarling in the halls roused me. I only quickly made sure the lock was in place along with the table before I slept again, a soft hum of a lullaby blocking out the occasional scrape of sharp claws against a distant corridor wall.

#fanfic #acotar #acotar rewrite #reader #a court of readers and dreamers #inkywrites #reader insert #Calanmai #rhysand #rhys acotar #rhys x reader

[stories-of-kore]

Camp Krell - chapter one, part five

“Finally, lets look at Subservients, demons who pledge their spirit to protecting something. Their charge can be a person, a creature, an object or a territory, and those demons are willing to give their lives to keep whatever it is safe. There are two main subsets, aligned and unaligned. Aligned demons have a single charge that they bond their spirit to for a long period of time, whether it’s the charge’s lifespan or the demon’s. Unaligned demons switch frequently from charge to charge, or have multiple charges. It honestly depends on the demon. Subservients can switch between their subsets, unlike any other demon. They tend to take on humanoid forms, and have even been known to marry humans and have children with them, passing down an unnatural colour in the child’s body, and a strong desire to protect those they care about. Like the teal streak in my hair, or Tam’s baby blue mouth. I only realised you were a subservient descendant after you told me your father was unwilling to tell you much about your other parent; subservient parents tend to switch their charge from their partners to their children.”

“Hold up; I’m part demon?! Fayne, why didn’t you explain all this sooner? I had no idea!”

“Because I thought you knew! I guess not though…” 

Kaffeyne spoke up for the first time in all of Fayne’s explanation.

“How do you even know so much about the demonic hierarchy anyways..?”

“Oh, my family taught me. We built this camp to protect people from deal demons, but the director bought it a couple of years ago… but I mean, it’s somehow even safer under the director’s guidance, the boundary has been a lot more effective.”

“Can I finally interrupt you, Fay?”

“Hmm… no.”

“Seriously? You know what, I’m just going to do it anyways. This may sound stupid, but I have a theory.”

There was a collective groan from all three of us. Noto’s theories were always wild shots in the dark, from pigeons being secret government drones to the existence of wendigos; this man was a mystery full of conspiracies. Kaff needs to find a way to cut off his addiction to analogue horror podcasts I swear…

“Oh come on, just hear me out!”

“Noto, last time you had a theory, you tried to convince me that our head teacher was a vampire.” Kaffeyne’s brutal honesty always got me giggling.

“I will stand by that, and I will die on that hill. But seriously, this theory makes sense! What if - hear me out - the director is a demon, this camp is it’s territory, and that’s why the Krell refuses to pass through the trees into the camp proper?” 

It’s official, Noto’s lost the plot. Sorry Fayne, I guess I’ll have to find you a new future husband since this one’s clearly broken.

“I’m going to ignore the ridiculousness of that theory, and take a nap because I did just sprint through the entirety of the Krellden forest.” 

“Oh come on Tamashi, it’s a valid theory!”

“Mhm, sure it is…” 

I don’t remember much of the rest of that day, since I fell asleep on Kaffeyne’s shoulder about a minute after I said that. I think I may have woken up a few hours later, but the next couple of days were a blur. So how about we skip a few days, to the next interesting encounter I had at camp?

#writers on tumblr #female writers #creative writing #writers #writing #writeblr #original character #original story #camp krellden

[baubeautyandthegeek]

I have no words- alas!- to tell//The loveliness of loving well!//Nor would I now attempt to trace//The more than beauty of a face – Tamerlane Usher/Verna

A/N: Verna claims a broken Usher child for her very own.

Tamerlane Usher, the sole Omega of the House of Usher. Her father had seen fit when she was just a child to have her body corrected, then, when she was of age, passed her off to the first Alpha he met. Bill, she thinks. She had been lucky, in a way, the man was gentle but… determined. He had had his way until she got too tense, scared him into accepting hookers, anyone but her. She had expected then that she would be left alone. Bill, she learnt later, has sold her off. Cheap. She opens the door to someone new. A woman. The man’s bags are packed and he’s gone in hours, her sigh soft as she slumps into a seat, barely hiding her fear. “Darling?” Soft hands cover her own and she looks up with a gasp, her eyes drifting over soft brunette hair, softer eyes that seem both green and grey, almost an ice-blue tone to them in the light, and pale, pale skin. “Hi Beautiful…” “Tamerlane… They…. Call me Tam or Tammy…” “Well, you can call me Verna… or Candy…” “Candy?” Tamerlane’s smile is quick, softly sweet but her laugh echoes in the quiet. “Are you… sweet… Candy?” “I try to be.” Candy, Verna, smiles, moving to stroke away tears and leaning to kiss Tamerlane, her voice soft. “Come, my beautiful girl…. We’d best make this official.” Tamerlane, bare, is beautiful. Verna’s eyes drink in the soft, unflawed, skin, the healing bruising from her last collapse are nearly gone and she looks, perfect. Verna settles first, naturally, already more than a little aroused by Tamerlane’s shy trust. Tamerlane shudders when she follows, settling over her slowly, barely biting back a whimper of pain as her body adjusts, Verna’s touch gentle, calmingly gentle. “Oh I know sweet girl, it’s been a long time… just relax and let me take care of you.” There’s silence as she records just enough, showing the slow re-penetration, Tamerlane’s willing spread and arch and finally setting the phone aside, pulling Tamerlane back over her and smiling at the girl’s soft moan, her pace slow, soft, tender. Slow, steady, pace. Slow, steady, love. Tamerlane relaxes, Verna drinks in the sight and smiles when Tamerlane shudders undone around her, holding her close as she finally, finally claims her. “There now, my pretty girl….” The words are a murmur even as she holds Tamerlane closer, letting the girl rest, soft cheek on her collarbone, body still pressed around her own. It’s a start. A slow, loving start. All she can do now is hope, hope it lasts.

#verna #verna the fall of the house of usher #verna tfothou #tamerlane usher #fall of the house of usher #tfothou #the fall of the house of usher #vernalane #candylane #tamerlane/candy #tamerlane/verna #verna/tamerlane #candy/tamerlane #alpha verna #omega tamerlane

[marypsue]

5,8,17,or19! For the fic ask!

[from this meme]

I've done 5, but I'll do 8 and 17...and 19 again, because I am shameless.

8. What project(s) are you currently working on?

At the moment, I'm plugging away at Fearleading Squad, Le Morte d'Artificial Intelligence, and Circus Luna. I did a post about my current ongoing original fiction projects here, and I'm just gonna link it because I'm lazy and also I think it's a pretty good summary of all three of them.

My current fic WIPs are:

the light of all lights: As mentioned in the previous post, I'm continuing this AU where the characters of Dracula get dropped into the events of Stranger Things season one.

tam lin's twin: The conclusion of the robber bridegroom and other stories, the one that grew out of a crackship challenge and turned into an AU where the Byers family have psychic powers and lab experiment trauma.

why can't we be ourselves like we were yesterday: The post-s3, pre-s4 Steve/Nancy/Jonathan bodyswap fic. There's a bit missing in the middle but I'm damned if I know what it is, so that one's stalled out in the garage for right now.

that same small town in each of us (aka 'relativity falls but it's stranger things'): The one where it's Stranger Things season one, but Hawkins Chief of Police Nancy Wheeler is trying to find Jonathan Byers' missing daughter, sixteen-year-old Mike Harrington and Will Byers have found a psychic fugitive in the woods, and twelve-year-old Karen Harrington and Jim Hopper are hunting a monster that might have taken their mutual friend Joyce.

former heroes who quit too late: The third and final installment in the Hawkins, Indiana psychic baby boom AU, aka 'the one where (almost) all the kids have powers and (almost) none of them know it'. Despite being probably the longest fic on this list, it's the one with the most concrete outline, and probably the closest to actually being done.

annnnnd Something Borrowed, Something Blues (aka 'RB2: Electric Blues-galoo')!: Yeah, I'm still plugging away at this one. It's so close to done. I want it to be done as badly as any of you do.

17. What’s something you’ve learned about while doing research for a fic?

I've talked a lot about how I found out about phreaking and early hacker culture for what became a plot point in the road goes ever on. I don't think I've mentioned, though, that I learned about the Greyhound drivers' strike of 1983 when I was trying to figure out what parts of the American Midwest Greyhound would have serviced and what their average trip lengths looked like for don't let the sun go down on me. And then I obviously had to incorporate it into the fic, for period flavour. And to cause additional problems for Steve Harrington. Which, as you may have noticed, is one of my favourite pastimes.

19. Give us a small teaser from one of your WIPs.

Yanno what, have a snippet of a scene from Fearleading Squad.

...

When Avery finally got fed up with being avoided and tried to hunt her down at the lunch hour, Mallory wasn’t at their usual lunch spot in the entryway of the science wing. She wasn’t out on the front lawn by the sign with the interchangeable letters that the jocks were always rearranging to make rude words with, either. Or in any of the practice rooms off the band room. After some searching, Avery finally found her in the cafeteria, sitting at a long table under one of the windows.

With the rest of the cheerleaders.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Avery spat, marching up to the table and stopping right at Mallory’s elbow, glaring down.

Mallory took a long, exaggerated look at her hot lunch tray, before dragging her eyes slowly and judgmentally up over Avery’s black peasant blouse, the silver ankh and the length of huge-linked hardware-store chain dangling around her neck, her dark purple lipstick, all the way up to her black-ringed eyes. “I thought I was eating my lunch…?”

Siobhan, across the table from Mallory, giggled. When Avery whirled to glare her down, she just offered a bright, guileless smile. Jennifer leaned over to whisper something to Krista, neither of them taking their eyes off of Avery.

And from the head of the table, Tiffany watched the whole thing intently, with a perfect, slightly smug sliver of a smile.

“Bathroom,” Avery snarled, grabbing Mallory’s arm just above the elbow and yanking her up out of her seat, making her drop her fork with a clatter into her mashed potatoes. “Now.”

Mallory shook off Avery’s grip as Avery slammed the door to the seventh-grade girls’ washroom behind them, taking two big steps back away from Avery. “What is wrong with you, you psycho?”

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you?” Avery looked Mallory up and down, from the toes of her sparkling white sneakers and slouchy white socks, to the glint of the tiny gold cross at her throat, to the bobbing pouf of her shellacked half-ponytail, throttled by a scrunchie exactly matched to the red of her cheer uniform. Her roots were still dark, Avery noticed, but the bleach-blonde woven through her hair looked more like intentional highlights than an overgrown all-over dye job. And was a soft, pale gold instead of the previous loud brass. Somebody had apparently also given Mallory a lesson or two in eyeshadow application, and must have finally told her to ease off the blush. “Who are you, and what have you done with my friend Mallory?”

“Excuse the hell out of me for thinking you might be happy for me,” Mallory spat back. “You know, I actually told Tiffany she was wrong when she said you’d be bitter and envious?”

Something cold slipped down Avery’s back, catching fire in the pit of her belly. “That bitch is talking about me?”

“She said you’d make this all about you. It’s not. You didn’t want the spot on the team. She gave me a chance, and I made the cut. It’s got nothing to do with you at all.”

Avery nodded, a prickling anger needling at her, just under her skin. “She said that, huh. Is she the same one who did your hair and your makeup? And bought your lunch? And gave you those new clothes you’ve been wearing?”

Mallory gave a little flick of her chin, so she was looking down her nose toward Avery. “As a matter of fact, yeah. She did let me pick some things from her closet. And helped me fix that awful bathtub dye job you gave me. She’s actually pretty nice, if you give her a chance.”

“She’s buying you,” Avery snapped back. “And you’re letting her! What happened to ‘I don’t need charity’?”

“It’s easy for you to say!” Mallory spat. “Some of us don’t get to just choose to shop at thrift shops because we’re oh so too cool for Benneton and Esprit -”

“God! So you just let a snob like her dress you up like her own personal Barbie, so you can be allowed to be seen with her and her crew? Play lapdog for her just so you can get some hand-me-downs with a more expensive brand name on the tag? When have I ever given a fuck that you’re poor?”

“You haven’t,” Mallory said, sharply.

She didn’t say another word, just pushed past Avery and out of the bathroom, letting the heavy metal door slam behind her with a hollow boom.

It swung open again a second later, to let in two chattering seventh-grade girls. They fell dead silent the second they laid eyes on Avery.

Avery bared her teeth in a snarl, glaring them down, and they both turned around and hurried back out the door again.

#chatter #mary writes #fearleading squad

[crymeariveronceagain]

KOTLC Characters' Halloween costumes: 2022 edition!!!

Holy crap, I've been on tumblr for over a year now!! Let's get some Halloween costumes going, because nobody wears the same outfit two years in a row, right? *kicks my own beloved witch costume out of sight*

Sophie Foster: 1920's gangster. She's always been one for suits and ties, and she looks stunning with the fedora on her head and her fake cigar in her teeth. She drinks her lushberry juice out of a wine glass and talks in a Brooklyn accent the whole night. No one knows what her accent's about, but no one can get her to stop. She has bright red lipstick on her teeth, halfway through the night, and her brown eyes sparkle. Her suspenders are super cute, though.

Keefe Sencen: Cereal Killer. You know exactly what I'm talking about, because that is not a typo. There is a cereal box, and there is red dye involved, and a fake knife. Keefe is loving it.

Fitz Vacker: Alexander The Great. He's got his hair messed up and his eyes look a little wild, but the historical accuracy is there, from the Macedonian armor to the spear he made himself. There are feathers tucked into the helmet he spent hours making, and his shield is carefully crafted to have a golden star right at the center. He's wearing gold and red and he looks every inch like a warrior king.

Biana Vacker: Cinderella. Her skirts are shimmery and blue and she's got her hair in long loose waves, butterfly clips in her hair, and she's smiling brightly, and she looks lovely. Oh, her slippers are made of crystals. She commissioned them and paid money for the trolls to carve her her shoes. They cost quite a chunk of change.

Tam Song: Prince Charming. He looks put together and like the prince he is. He and Biana went to the party together, and if you see Cinderella and Her prince dancing the night away to "Monster Mash" you're correct. That's what they're doing, tonight.

Linh Song: Sheet Ghost. With glasses over the top. It's really cute, and she giggles and her whole costume looks like it's shaking. She's just floating around, and it's really really sweet.

Marella Redek: Katara, from Avatar, The Last Airbender. It's about the IRONY, and the hair loopies that she spent three hours researching and braiding her hair so it's accurate. She put so much effort into this costume, and worked on this for weeks. She's put her heart and soul into this costume, and it looks like it. It's just a brilliant cosplay of the character, and you can tell that Marella had so much fun putting it together.

Dex Dizznee: Pirate. He's got an eye patch and a fantastic outfit that looks perfectly like he walked out of a book on pirates. He even burned the sleeves with gun powder, and dusted his cheek bones with red so it looks like he's got a sunburn. Good thing he's got so many freckles, it looks like he's been in the sun for months.

Stina Heks: Goth Witch. She's got her makeup dark and her dress jagged at the bottom. She's got spiderwebs embroidered across her sleeves, and her hat is pointed and embellished with flowers and a skull(sustainably sourced). She's got her lipstick dark and her hair curly and scattered and messy. She's grinning, brightly, and she looks like a creature of the night. It's lovely.

Maruca Chebota: An angler fish. She's got her dress done up in shimmery scales, attaches huge teeth to her face with makeup glue, and she fastens a glowing sort of shield in place at the end of her headpiece, and she looks amazing.

Wylie Endal: A lighthouse. All of his college friends screech in laughter when he walks in and there's a light moving around him like he's a real actual walking talking lighthouse who just walked in the room.

Glimmer Alenefar: Fintan Pyren. There was so much laughter. She even went on a dramatic speech in Fintan's voice!!!! Sophie is losing her mind over this, and Keefe has been laughing so hard he's now crying, especially when Glimmer says something along the lines of "I'VE ALWAYS LOVED YOU, WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE" or something like that. No one is ssafe from Glimmer Fintan. Not a single one of these kids is mentally healthy. But stars, if they aren't having a good time.

#kotlc #kotlc wylie #kotlc linh #kotlc tam #kotlc marella #kotlc maruca #kotlc sophie #kotlc keefe #kotlc fitz #kotlc biana #kotlc stina #kotlc dex #kotlc headcanons #kotlc headcanon #halloween #halloween costumes #halloween au #fintan pyren #cereal killer #hehe #kotlc thoughts