“So you’ve heard, then?”
“That our parents want us to get married? Yes, I’ve heard.”
The protagonist lounged in their travelling tent, a glass of wine in hand. They were, in their mind, the very picture of regal despondency.
“You don’t seem happy about it,” said the protagonist’s friend – their fiancé, now, they supposed.
“Are you?”
Their friend meandered further into the tent, looking over the protagonist’s books. “I don’t know. I guess if I have to be with someone …” A shrug. “It may be my best option for it to be you.”
“Your passion is overwhelming,” the protagonist deadpanned.
Their friend gave a wan smile. “I’m just trying to face facts.”
“Do you love me?”
Their friend looked up in surprise.
It normally would have been embarrassing, to ask such a question so bluntly. But now, more than ever, was the time to have all their cards on the table.
To their friend’s credit, they didn’t shy away. “No,” they said. “Or … yes. But not how you mean.”
The protagonist took in a breath. “Explain.”
Their friend settled onto the sedan across from them, and was silent. The protagonist thought for a moment that they wouldn’t answer at all. But then they said, “If I could love anyone like that, it would be you.”
“But you can’t.”
Their friend cast their eyes over. “I’ve long suspected you of being the same.”
The protagonist leaned back, staring at the tarp ceiling. “Somewhat. I don’t feel romantic love, this is true. But I do feel …” They smiled to themself. “I find people sexually interesting, you could say.”
Their friend stilled. “Oh.”
“Do you think me a whore, for this?”
“No.” Their friend’s response was quick, and certain. It startled the protagonist.
A small lock of dread released in their heart. They smiled. “I’m glad to hear it.”
Their friend cleared their throat. “Do you find me … interesting?”
The protagonist raised their brows. But, well, fair enough. Cards on the table.
“Yes,” they said, in all honesty.
Their friend nodded, seeming to pay close attention to the woven rugs splayed on the grass.
“I take it the feeling is not mutual.”
Their friend rubbed the back of their neck. “Do you think me cold, for not being able to feel any of it?”
“Never.”
Their friend nodded again.
But that did leave one question …
“Marriages usually involve sex,” the protagonist said. They placed their wine on the end table, leaning forward. “How were you planning to deal with that?”
Their friend shrugged. “Every station comes with its chores, I suppose.”
Horror washed over the protagonist.
“The wedding isn’t happening,” they said, bursting upwards. “I will speak with my father, I will – ”
“You will bring your country to ruin,” their friend said, rising to meet them. “Your kingdom needs this alliance even more than mine.”
“I will not take someone who is unwilling.”
Their friend stepped closer, and took the protagonist’s hand. “I would be willing.”
“Would you? Would you truly?”
Their friend faltered.
“I could not do that,” the protagonist said. “Not to anyone.” They squeezed their friend’s fingers. “And never to you.”
“So what, then?” Their friend met their gaze. “You’ll resign yourself to a life of celibacy? Because this marriage is happening, whether we like it or not.”
Now it was the protagonist’s turn to falter for words.
They both stayed like that for a time, stuck.
Then, a light flicked on in their friend’s eyes. “What if we got married, but as friends?”
The protagonist huffed out a laugh. “That’s an oxymoron, if I’ve ever heard one.”
“No, I’m serious.” Their friend took their other hand. “A marriage in name, but in practice …”
They dropped down to one knee, grinning. “[Protagonist], will you do me the honour of being my friend?”
The protagonist had to smile, in spite of themself. “What are you even suggesting?”
“We do the ceremony. Our kingdoms join. But we have separate beds. Separate rooms, even. And you can have a harem, with as many interesting people as you’d like. And I …” Their smile changed from scheming to sincere. “I get to spend the rest of my life with my best friend.”
The protagonist blinked. The idea sounded crazy, but …
“It could work.”
The next day, the two of them informed their parents the betrothal was happily accepted.
15x18 - Despair
meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you. meows at you.
BLOODBORNE | Scenery
apparently my boss who is a professor at my school doesn’t have a cell phone and his coworkers were upset by this so they bought him a childs toy phone and labeled it “David’s jitterbug” (for those of you that don’t know jitterbugs are phones made for old people that have like massive buttons and shit) so the other day I walked into his office to ask him a question and he pressed a button on it which made it start loudly playing the ABCs and he said “excuse me I have to take this” and then started singing along to the ABCs while shooing me out of his office
Yeah guys, I'm this cruel :-)
Hi! I love your writing and adore your Fivan one shots so if your still taking prompts I would love to see one where everyone in the little palace ( Genya, Zoya, The Darling etc ) finds out about Fivans relationship. Please and thank you!
Aha, my request for prompts was quite a while ago, but since I can never resist the opportunity for Shenanigans, especially of the Fivan variety, here you go.
Nadia finds out first. She, in fact, does not even need to be actually told. Fedyor is creeping down the stairs in the early morning with tousled hair and a kefta that has spent all night on the floor of Ivan's bedroom, mind filled with nothing but jumbled images and sensations and oh Saints did that finally really happen?, and as a result, is not paying attention in the least to where he is going. He walks bang into his friend, there is a mutual moment of consternation as they stumble backward and clutch their heads and apologize, and then Nadia gets a good look. Fedyor has tried to arrange his collar to hide the most obvious bites, but it doesn't matter. Her eyes go wide as saucers. "Oh my," she says. "Did it finally happen?"
"Did... what... finally happen?"
"Fedyor Kaminsky, don't even try that." Nadia points a finger at him. "You know damn well what I'm talking about."
Fedyor looks at the floor, which doesn't help. A small smile starts to overtake his mouth. This is as good as hiring the entire First Army drum-and-trumpet brigade to parade around announcing the news, he knows, but he can't help it. "Maybe."
"Maybe." Nadia utters a scoff that is twice her size. "That is a question with a yes-or-no answer, you idiot."
Fedyor's lips pull wider. So do Nadia's.
"Oh," she crows, punching the air. "I knew it."
-----
Zoya, Ivan's old nemesis from training and their shared but completely exclusive belief that Kirigan should pay attention only to their advice at all times, also picks it up by inference. In her case, it's because she sees Ivan actually smiling when Fedyor is standing closely next to him, filling him in on some item of Heartrender miscellany, rather than looking as if this is the worst thing to happen in his entire life. When Fedyor touches Ivan's wrist briefly and slips off, Zoya's suspicions are confirmed. She stomps up and demands, "Really?"
Ivan whirls around, sees her, and glares. "Did you need something?"
"Fedyor?" Zoya still hasn't processed. "But he's so nice! Did he hit his head or wake up having forgotten his entire life to this date? I'm having a hard time thinking what else he can possibly see in you."
Ivan crosses his arms across his chest, fixing her with an even greater stare of total death, but she refuses to back down. "I don't know what you're talking about, Nazyalensky," he barks. "If you're not going to train that new cohort of Squallers, then -- "
"Fine." Zoya turns on her heel, then adds over her shoulder, "He's much too good for you, you know."
Ivan stares at her implacably. He does not, however, deny either this fact or the reason for it, and Zoya, smugly, takes that as a win.
------
Genya knows soon too, but then, Genya knows more or less everything that happens in the Little Palace by virtue of her position. The queen and her ladies are very gossipy, and when one of the younger ones starts going on about that Fedyor Kaminsky, he's such a dish, so handsome, what's his situation, Genya feels obliged to speak up and provide some gentle clarification. "I'm afraid he's already taken," she says. "And you won't want to tangle with his partner. It's... well, it's Ivan, the general's right-hand man."
The reactions, of course, are predictable: "Ivan?" spoken in increasingly incredulous tones. "Ivan? Ivan! IVAN. IVAN?!!"
"But he's so...." one of the ladies protests. "So terribly rude."
Genya smothers a wry smile. "Apparently Fedyor doesn't mind."
-------
Kirigan finds out last, and most mortifyingly. Fedyor and Ivan have been together for four months at this point, are returning to the Little Palace from their first separation as a couple and have some making up for lost time to do. They have not managed to make it to a bedroom and are getting started on said actions on the wall of a nearby antechamber, when Kirigan thinks of something he apparently forgot to tell Ivan on the road and pushes the door open imperiously, not bothering to knock. "Ivan! If those Fjerdans were already at Arkesk, then we need to -- "
There is a monumentally panicked scramble as Ivan, the stern, unflappable, terrifying Heartrender captain of the Second Army physically dives away, hits the ground, rolls over and over while frantically trying to lace his trousers up, and Fedyor has lunged with equal dispatch behind a sofa. There he crouches, likewise attempting in vain to restore his clothing, as Kirigan comes to a halt and looks around quizzically. "Ivan?"
"Moi... soverenyi," Ivan pants, climbing to his feet and brushing floor dust off his kefta. "I did not -- I thought you were -- "
"I seem to have interrupted something?" Kirigan arches a sleek dark brow. He catches sight of Fedyor, then shakes his head. "Oh, Ivan. You really could do better."
At the look of pure rage on Ivan's face, a look he has never seen before in relation to him, the Black General blinks, and even he thinks better of picking this fight. "Ah," he says. "My apologies. Congratulations, of course. I hope you two will be very happy."
Barbie, The Plastic Religion by Marianela Perelli and Pool Paolini (2014)
This might sound fake but I assure you, my life is stranger than fiction.
Me, minding my own beeswax: I’ll get a large warm milk please!
Some guy: under his breath Warm milk? Get a life.. they don’t even sell that here
Barista: Actually yeah we do sell warm milk, does that bother you?
Some guy: Rolls eyes imagine actually drinking that
Me: I don’t have to imagine grabs my warm milk and takes a good sassy swig
The guy: Notices my ace pin Oh so you’re an aceggot? So you just don’t get laid? That figures
Me: Yup, I’m a proud “aceggot” and that has nothing to do with my preferences in beverages
Woman behind me: Did you seriously just call that person an aceggot? What kind of world are we living in!?
Me: Yep, I’m used to it though.. That’s what you get for being openly asexual it seems!
The guy: I’m literally a gay man and I won’t let you Jesus freak aces shame me for having gay sx, people like you are hurting my community. I’m gonna go have SX with my boyfriend
Me: Uhhhh buddy you were the one shaming me for buying warm milk and now you’re shoving the image of s*x down a sex repulsed ace’s throat… Not a good look. And yes, I’m a proud Jesus freak!
Woman: I’ve been an out asexual woman since the 80s and let me tell you, mr. Gay, we have done nothing but further acceptance for your community and carry your community on our backs.
Me: You have the nerve to talk down to an asexual elder? Really?
Barista: Throws water on the bigoted guy
Barista: Well… I might lose my job for this but at least I can say it was worth it
Me: picks up my warm milk and pours it on his head
Bigot: I HATE ASEXUALS AND ASEXUALITY. YOU ARE NOT EVEN HUMAN.
Me: loudly and proudly Another warm milk please, on the house! I think I’m owed it
Barista: You know it!
Bigot: storms out crying
ohhhh the detail of Finbar being Skug's nephew is inchresting 👀 though it makes me wonder if in your hc they know about it?
They do!
See, Finbar and Skug always felt like kind of an odd relationship.
Finbar isn't the sort of company Skug normally keeps - if you look at basically all his friends (except Scapegrace, who adopts him in much the same way a dirty stray cat adopts a random family) they tend to be very classy, highly intelligent, vaguely olde-worlde, verbal sparring sorts. Finbar is a punk rock stoner who barely knows where he is half the time and constantly forgets that Skug doesn't know his wife. But it's never mentioned how they met, or why Skug trusted Finbar enough to leave his emergency cache with him, or why Finbar sometimes treats Skug like family (i.e., calling him his kid's "Uncle Skulduggery").
So in my headcanon, it goes a little something like this:
Like? Petulance meets her husband while she's fixing planes for the brits during World War I. He's a pilot. They marry in the middle of the war, say ~1916.
Finbar is born ~1938, and once the war starts, he's looked after by his father's parents during the daytime while Petulance is working.
~1940. Petulance's husband is shot down in a dogfight. Finbar is the one who tells her daddy is dead - days before the authorities turn up on her doorstep to officially tell her she's a widow. She's inconsolable. Skug comes over from Ireland to support her, which is the first time he's ever met her son. He offers to bring her back to Dublin, set her up with whatever she needs, but she doesn't want to uproot her son from from his dad's home. Skug stays to help out, because she's struggling, and she's his favourite, and he has never not been there when she needed him.
1941. Height of the Blitz. She gets a call at some silly hour of the morning - her MIL has had an accident and has been admitted to hospital. She leaves toddler Finbar in Skug's care while she goes to be there for her MIL.
She never comes home. The hospital is a direct hit. Finbar is an orphan.
He's too little to really have a say in his custody. Skug makes the same offer of support to Petulance's FIL, if he'll raise the boy. The old man doesn't want to stay in London without his wife and son, so he takes Finbar and goes back to Ireland with Skug, away from the war. For most of Finbar's childhood, he's raised by his grandpa, with a generous monthly stipend from Skug to make sure they don't want for anything. There are very occasional, sporadic visits. But Finbar looks like Petulance, and most of the time Skug just...can't. It's too raw.
When Finbar's visions start getting more upsetting and more frequent, grandpa doesn't know what to do. He's aware of magic, but he doesn't trust it, and he prefers to pretend it doesn't exist. Eventually he reaches out to Skug, who pulls some strings at the Sanctuary to get info on Sensitives in County Dublin and - oh, how fortunate - finds one he knows. He puts Finbar in touch with Cassie, and she trains him to use his magic responsibly.
She's a hippie in the 60s, and when the 70s and 80s come around, Finbar gets really into the punk movement and feels like he fits in somewhere for the first time and becomes just. Really rooted in that whole subculture, which is a huge difference between him and Skulduggery "Got Tortured To Death For And Gaslit For A Century By Government, Continues To Work For Said Government" Pleasant, but also gives them something to bond over, because. Petulance was a revolutionary; she had Strong Opinions on Irish independence, she was a suffragette, she would've been very proud of her highly anti-establishment son. And that's bittersweet for both of them.
As with all Handbook stuff, I share credit with @thats-so-craven
I was writing a speech about deforestation and I typed ‘we began taking things that didn’t belong to us’ and then the American flag popped up on suggested words