cut your teeth; [ ap ]

ALL IT TOOK WAS A KILLING SPREE AND THE WHOLE WORLD WAS LYING AT YOUR FEET.

[nimueriesa]

nimarchive:

THE BIG SLEEP by RAYMOND CHANDLER ┊SENTENCE MEME feel free to change pronouns/whathaveyou

❝ Tall, aren’t you? Handsome too, and I bet you know it. ❞ 

❝ Get on with you. You heard me. ❞ 

❝ You didn’t say anything. You’re just a big tease. ❞ 

❝ You’re cute. I’m cute too. ❞ 

❝ It’s too hot in here for a man with blood in his veins. ❞ 

❝ You may smoke, sir. I like the smell of tobacco. ❞ 

❝ A nice state of affairs when a man has to indulge his vices by proxy. ❞

❝ I test very high on insubordination. ❞ 

❝ It was a ridiculous marriage of course, and it probably didn’t last a month, as a marriage. ❞ 

❝ Then she tried to sit in my lap. ❞ 

❝ Do I have to be polite or can I just be natural? ❞

❝ Neither of them has any more moral sense than a cat. ❞ 

❝ Are you attempting to tell me my duties? ❞ 

❝ You’re not much of a gusher are you? ❞ 

❝ I don’t see what there is to be cagey about, and I don’t like your manners. ❞ 

❝ I didn’t ask to see you. You sent for me. ❞ 

❝ I don’t mind you ritzing me or drinking your lunch out of a scotch bottle. ❞ 

❝ I don’t mind your showing me your legs. They’re very swell legs and it’s a pleasure to make their acquaintance. ❞ 

❝ I don’t mind if you don’t like my manners. They’re pretty bad. I grieve over them during the long winter evenings. ❞ 

❝ But don’t waste your time trying to cross-examine me. ❞ 

❝ People don’t talk like that to me. ❞ 

❝ My God, you are a big dark handsome brute! ❞ 

❝ I ought to throw a Buick at you. ❞ 

❝ I loathe masterful men, I simply loathe them. ❞ 

❝ Just what is it you’re afraid of? ❞ 

❝ Get out! Damn you, get out! ❞ 

❝ I see. You interest me. Rather vaguely. ❞ 

❝ As a matter of fact I’m not here. You’re just seeing things. ❞ 

❝ Tut tut. Come into my boudoir. ❞ 

❝ So you like roulette. You would. ❞ 

❝ I like you. You believe in miracles. ❞ 

❝ She has a beautiful little body, hasn’t she? You ought to see mine. ❞ 

❝ You’re as cold-blooded a beast as I ever met. ❞ 

❝ Oh, go to hell. ❞ 

❝ You know such lovely people. ❞ 

❝ Such a lot of guns around town and so few brains. ❞ 

❝ I don’t know hell’s first whisper about you. ❞ 

❝ You might be a life taker for all I know. ❞ 

❝ I’ve been shaking two nickels together for a month, trying to get them to mate. ❞ 

❝ You think you’re so smart and you’re so goddamned dumb. ❞ 

❝ I’m too tired to talk, too tired to eat, too tired to think. ❞ 

❝ Remember me? I met you about a hundred years ago – or was it yesterday? ❞ 

❝ You hinted you had something for me. What is it? ❞ 

❝ You and I ought to get along. ❞ 

❝ I wish to Christ I didn’t know half the stuff that’s brought to me. ❞ 

❝ Knowing other people’s business is the worst investment a man can make. ❞ 

❝ Are you my bodyguard now? ❞ 

❝ You should see him sober. I should see him sober. Somebody should see him sober.  I mean, just for the record. ❞ 

❝ I’ve even thought of marrying him. ❞ 

❝ I love a nice walk in the fog. You meet such interesting people. ❞ 

❝ I could get as drunk as two sailors and love it. ❞ 

❝ My heart’s in my mouth doing this. ❞ 

❝ You have wicked eyes. ❞ 

❝ He hasn’t many illusions, but I suppose he still has his pride. ❞ 

❝ We’re his blood. That’s the hell of it. ❞ 

❝ I don’t want him to die despising his own blood. ❞ 

❝ It was always wild blood, but it wasn’t always rotten blood. ❞ 

❝ So you shoot people. You’re a killer. ❞ 

❝ Thanks, lady. You’re no English muffin yourself. ❞ 

❝ Let’s get out of this rotten little town. ❞ 

❝ Hold me close, you beast. ❞ 

❝ Kissing is nice, but your father didn’t hire me to sleep with you. ❞ 

❝ You son of a bitch. ❞ 

❝ Don’t think I’m an icicle. I’m not blind or without senses. I have warm blood. ❞ 

❝ You’re easy to take – too damned easy. ❞ 

❝ If you say that again, I’ll scream. ❞ 

❝ Men have been shot for little things like that. ❞ 

❝ Men have been shot for practically nothing. ❞ 

❝ Get it through your lovely head. I work at it. I don’t play at it. ❞ 

❝ I think the whole thing was just some kind of an act. If I wanted to flatter myself, I’d say it was at least partly for my benefit. ❞ 

❝ Do I have to tell you I loathe your guts, Mister Detective? ❞ 

❝ You have a lovely way with women. ❞ 

❝ I liked kissing you. ❞ 

❝ You kept your head beautifully. That’s so flattering. ❞ 

❝ Should I congratulate you, or my father? ❞ 

❝ Take me away from here, if you will be so kind. I’m quite sure I’d like to go home. ❞ 

❝ You won’t be a sister to me? ❞ 

❝ If I had a razor, I’d cut your throat – just to see what ran out of it. ❞ 

❝ Cute, aren’t I? ❞ 

❝ I bet you can’t even guess how I got in. ❞ 

❝ You came through the keyhole, just like Peter Pan. ❞ 

❝ You’re cute, aren’t you? ❞ 

❝ I’m all undressed. ❞ 

❝ By God, it was right at the back of my mind. I was groping for it. I almost had it, when you spoke. ❞

❝ I always wear my rubbers in bed myself, in case I wake up with a bad conscience and have to sneak away from it. ❞ 

❝ That’s nice, but I’ve already seen it all. Remember? I’m the guy that keeps finding you without any clothes on. ❞ 

❝ Listen, you don’t really care anything about me. You’re just showing me how naughty you can be. ❞

❝ You’ve been following me around for a couple of days. Like a fellow trying to pick up a girl and lacking the last inch of nerve. ❞ 

❝ I’m psychic. Shake your business up and pour it. I haven’t got all day. ❞ 

❝ She’s too big for you. She’ll roll on you and smother you. ❞

❝ I wouldn’t even argue with you. I wouldn’t waste the oxygen. ❞ 

❝ You didn’t ever get socked in the kisser, did you? ❞ 

❝ Did you know that worms are of both sexes and any worm can love any other worm? ❞ 

❝ Then I’m afraid you’re in a bad spot. And I hate killing. ❞ 

❝ I was afraid you’d come back. ❞ 

❝ We had a date. I told you it was all arranged. ❞ 

❝ This is the last time. The next fast one you pull I’ll throw you to the lions, no matter whose heart it breaks. ❞ 

❝ Stand there, you son of a bitch. ❞ 

❝ So you’re just a brute after all. An utter callous brute. ❞ 

❝ You tire me. God, how you tire me! ❞ 

❝ Can I go on being a son of a bitch, or do I have to become a gentleman like that lush passed out in his car the other night? ❞ 

[nimueriesa]

mists of avalon → sentence meme

This is part four of a many part series of lines and dialogue taken from The Mists of Avalon by Marion Zimmer Bradley. Feel free to change pronouns or anything else to better suit your needs.

Do you really think me so tempting no man could resist me?

I could not sleep…how is it you ask me what I am doing here when you yourself are not in your bed?

I was restless when all around me slept - I think perhaps the moon has gotten into my blood.

I think faith is an illusion, and the truth is that we die as the beasts die, and are no more ever - like grass cut down, and last year’s snow.

You are so little - I had forgotten how little you are - I could break you with my two hands.

Sometimes it seems to me that you are one of the few things in my life which is all good.

So here we are again…it seems we have been here before…and this time I will cut off the head of any that interrupt us.

Almost you frighten me, when I would keep myself from sin, and yet I have looked on you with lust and wickedness, knowing it was wrong.

You are - you are a contemptible fool, _____! You are not even worth cursing!

I am not worthy that you should love me so well.

Dare you offer insult to my mother?

Go from here, lest my babe be born deformed because I have looked on your vile face.

You must not be so quick to assign blame to others. If there is fault, it must be your own.

Come, dear love, this is folly.

Perhaps I should seek to be a priest among the Christians,who, I have heard, teach their priests the secret  of living without women.

It is strange. I had known you were wise and a priestess, but somehow I had never thought you were beautiful.

Tell me – where have you been? I would not ask, but that whatever it is, it lies heavy on your heart.

Why do you think I am any more happy or contented than you?

I do not know how I shall live if you go away.

I would not lead you into sin.

We have sinned already, you and I.

Is it true that you know all manner of charms and spells for fertility?

I am not your confessor! I have not accused you!

I would have you bear this in mind – charms often work as you would not that they would do.

But if I am older, then I will need to know more about women than I did when I was a baby, will I not?

Oh, stay, if you want to, but turn your back. I’ll not have you staring at me, sir Impudence!

Look at his sweet face, like one of those angels, he is.

Perhaps if you knocked your head open, you could shove some sense inside it. For sure, it will never grow there on its own.

Aye, say it! Mock me with my birth, you – I do not know my father’s name, but I know who fathered you, and between the two I would rather be in my situation!

Is that man fit to rule who would forswear his oath for a woman’s sake?

Speak the truth to me: how long have you had the Sight?

The truth is, I suppose, that her wits are not in the right place.

Is it true that I – I am the son of the High King?

Dear child, never be ashamed to love.

I do not admire his taste. I would sooner be housed in the stable with the other donkeys!

I am not the keeper of your conscience. 

Don’t be more of a fool than you must.

Oh, ______ , in God’s name, what a ninny you are!

What can we do, short of murdering the guilty pair?

You are wise in charms and spells, cannot you give me a charm that will turn ______ ’s eye from ______ to me?

I think that if he married me, he would come to see that I am no less worthy of love than  ______.

I do not think women have ever much happiness in marriage – only young girls think so, and I am not so young.

Are your charms and spells all moonlight rubbish, then?

You despise me, do you not?

Say that again, and wife or no, love or no, I will kill you!

And what of the king stag when the young stag is grown.

Let it be so. You shall make the Great Marriage with the land and with me in her name.

I am no traitor - it pains me that you think me so, when you have given me so much.

You are as beautiful to me, my dearest, as the day when we were first bedded.

You think everyone is wrong but you, don’t you.

My mother says that little ones should not contradict grown-ups, and you look as if you were not so much older than I. You aren’t much bigger, are you?

If I were older, I would be one of the Companions and my father would make me a knight and I would ride with them!

You who have had so many lovers, have you ever known what it is to love?

Happy? In that place of evil sorcery?

I am not such a good girl, though. I sin all the time. I am always doing wicked things.

Why am I being sent away, then?

I do not think I am ugly, but you must decide for yourself whether I am good or evil.

Won’t you come and tell me goodbye tomorrow? I thought I would be with you here.

Never name that well from which you will not drink!

Ask, and if I can give, it is yours.

I longed for the clean air of the fells, and the gulls’ cry, and your face.

But most women are fools, so that I prefer not to trouble myself making play with those who expect me to treat them as something very special, or pay heed to what they say.

You have spoilt me for foolish women.

It is easy to love him. And while all worship him thus, I have no possible task.

Then, their love of him must somehow be made less.

Oh, I am weary of ______ …. even  ______ has fallen under their spell. Do not begin to defend them to me.

I am weary. I am weary and sick of fighting.

I would rather love him, as all men do.

Call no man happy until he is dead.

So I will be drunk. So let it be. I drink to death and to dishonor.

All my life my mother spoke of him as if he were a king or a saint, quite beyond mortal men.

No doubt your mother told you I am an evil sorceress.

And are you a sorceress, then, lady?

I think that being made a king must be a little like being made a priest. They are both sworn to serve man and God and to do what is right.

But you did slay a dragon, did you not?

I would not have minded if you were truly my brother.

Have you come to court to be one of my Companions?

I felt I might well see my rival.

Will you give me a token to bear into the lists?

Why, lady, you had better take back your favor! Would you have your honor so easily disposed of as that?

My lady, may I wear your token into battle?

______ seems enchanted by you.

Do you think I have need of charms or spells?

Perhaps he is glad that I have a lover who will not tempt me to leave him.

Do you think I care what that rabble think of me?

You bore yourself most bravely.

What would you that I should see, my mother?

And then – what then? Must I kill him?

I do not think fear of the priests, or of God’s wrath, or anything else will ever keep mankind from committing sins.

Error is useless and evil must be paid for, sooner or later.

Will you play your harp for me?

Are you a magician, _____? I sometime feel helpless, that you are working your magic on me.

Tell me more of yourself, I want to know everything about you.

I am no more than a man, and certainly not less than one.

I am a man of flesh and blood, and I love you.

You play with me as if I were a lapdog and expect me to be tame as a gelded pony.

Do you think because I am a cripple I am less than a man?

I wanted you to kiss me, but then you were so fierce, and I was frightened.

I cannot live without you. I must have you or die.

Will you not have some pity on me, beloved?

Say that you love me!

I love you. You know that I do.

Say that you will give me all your love.

You are so young and beautiful, and I am so twisted and ugly, I cannot believe you care for me.

Even now I think that I am dreaming, that you have for some reason roused me like this that you might make fun of the beast grovelling at your feet like a dog…

_____, will you come to my bed?

I know men like to boast of their conquest of maidens. How do I know that you will not brag out it?

I would dare anything to be with you, my love.

Nothing about you could frighten me, my love.

On your oath! You are mine?

Wait! You swear it! You are mine! Say it!

I am yours! I swear!

What will become of him?

How is it that you are so untouched by time?

Believe me, I love you beyond all else on this earth.

Say you so, that the land where an old king rules can only be a land which fades?

But you do not know all the vows I have made.

What more do you foresee?

Do you think I am dealing in sorcery at my age?

For God’s sake, lower your voice! Such things should not even be whispered in this place!

Here’s a riddle for you - when a man will not mind his property, what’s to be done by those who have an interest in it?

Does _____ kiss you like that?

Are you jealous of _____? Was it not you who told me to gain their confidence?

Already _____ has had more than enough of what is mine.

I account to no man on this earth for what I do with what is mine – yes, mine and not yours. 

Am I to help you by betraying a woman who has taken the right the Goddess has given to all women, to choose what man she will?

I’ll have nothing to do with betraying her.

You’ll do what I command you!

Command me? Not in a thousand years!

I cannot bear to say farewell to you here, must it be this way?

Your heart was always with _____, my dearest. 

I often think the only sin we did was not that we loved, but that I came between the love you had for each other.

[derkoniigs-blog]

STARTER CALL !!   you know the routine. give this a like and i’ll write you up a starter of undetermined length. specify muse ( & setting if you like ) !

[nimueries-a-blog]

●●●  ❝ FINDING MY WAY BACK HOME ❞  ❄   Y U L E T I D E  2k16  ( Watch in HD please! )

My mistress and friend: I and my heart put ourselves in your hands, begging you to have them suitors for your good favour, and that your affection for them should not grow less through absence. - Henry VIII, in a letter to Anne Boleyn // @vivatreginam​ // @moraliterambigua​ // @steelqueenshiddeninsilk​

[derkoniigs-blog]

YULETIDE 2k16 ┊ @vivatreginam

For six years, this year, and this, and this, and this, I did not love him.        And then I did. Then I was his. I CAN COUNT THE DAYS I WAS HIS IN HUNDREDS.

template credit [ x ]

[derkoniigs-blog]

♛「MY BROTHER’S GIRL」 ⚔ @mactoism ⚔

MODERN AU where Arthur brings home his girlfriend Catalina for the holiday and young Hal finds yet another reason to envy his brother.

He watched her play with Mary in the yard, rolling around a growing ball of snow to use as the base for a snowman. It hadn’t taken more than a minute for the rest of the family to fall in love with Catalina. His little sister clung to her every word, trailing after her in unbridled fascination. And why not? She was a striking woman, a beacon of light and warmth with her round face and endless auburn hair. Even the cold English weather was becoming on her, giving the Spanish girl a proper flush on her nose and cheeks.

Arthur was a lucky man -- he always had been.

Hal knew it was a sin to covet thy neighbor, let alone one’s own brother...but could you blame him? Arthur had everything. Being the eldest might not have been anything great if it hadn’t come with Father’s favoritism, his time and attention. Even though he was weak and sickly, among the Tudor brood, Arthur would always be the golden child. He was well on his way to taking up Father’s mantle, of having it all in the palm of his hand. And now, he’d grabbed Catalina up too.

Would Henry always be left begging for scraps?

He pinched himself bitterly, hating the train of his thoughts. Hal loved his older brother, he really did. Arthur was smart and capable -- after all, he too was a Tudor through and through. He deserved this happiness, the younger brother knew. It was just....hard to be on the outside, always waiting on the wings like the spare tire he knew himself to be. He’d only ever be of use if Arthur went flat.

If it wouldn’t have broken his mother’s heart, he might have spent that Christmas away. Of course, even Thomas took a break for the holiday season, so there were no lessons in morality or understanding of the law to be had. Charles would have been around, he was certain of that. Surely there was sport to be found somewhere this time of year? If not, they would have rooted it up from the cold hard ground all the same...much to his father’s chagrin.

Alas, he’d never have met her if he’d stayed away.

The snowball that smacked him in the cheek was cold and wet, followed by peals of merry laughter from the girls that had conspired to throw it. Although he cast a harsh, disapproving glare their way it quickly dissolved into good-natured chuckling, a faint spring added to his step as he casually walked closer, leaning low to scoop up some of the powdery fluff for himself.

                                               ❝ I take it you ladies want WAR ? ❞ 

There was a glint in his pale blue gaze, danger and mischief curling impishly at the corners of his mouth as he launched his packed snowball Mary’s way. Who was he to run away from a battle? A flurry ensued, snow flying back and forth as he took the two of them on. They were worthy competitors, running round and round the yard - but Hal had the longer, quicker legs. He scooped his sister into his arms, swinging her high into the air.

❝ Admit defeat and I’ll put you down! ❞ He shook his laughing sister, ❝ I’ll even tell our mother that you lost with dignity and grace. ❞ 

❝ NEVER! ❞   Mary squirmed and wiggled, attempting to batter his forearms with her mittened fists.  

❝ Spoken like a true Tudor, ❞ he praised.  ❝ Sadly, we Tudors show no mercy! ❞ 

He would have tossed his sister into the snow if it weren’t for the stick poking him in the back, a stolen arm from their snowman. It would seem Mary had only been a diversion.

❝ Will I tell your mother that you lost with dignity and grace, Henry? ❞  Catalina’s thickly accented voice was warm and playful against his ear. She gave a sharp jab of the stick for emphasis.  ❝ Be a good boy and put my comrade down. ❞ 

The boy winked at his sister, making a show of carefully placing her back on the ground only to swivel around and grab Catalina about the waist. Gravity sent them crashing to the ground, their laughter lost in the rush of air as they both went tumbling down the hillside. 

❝ Would you consider that graceful? ❞ Hal asked between heaving breaths, hands braced on either side of her head. He tried not to focus on the feel of her small body beneath him, the rise and fall of her chest as she too tried to catch her breath. In the tussle her cap had fallen off and her titian hair was spread over the pure white snow in a striking contrast. Azure eyes drank it all in, painting a portrait in his mind to visit again and again once reality had gone. She was the most perfect thing he’d seen; the most angelic creature in existence.

He would have given everything he had in that moment to kiss her - to have her.

A muffled groan escaped him as he rolled away, the back of his head falling heavily against the ground. The problem? He knew that everything he had in that moment amounted to nothing. 

Slowly, he lifted himself up and brushed off the snow from his pants. Henry held out a gloved hand, waiting for her to take it. Better get her back where she belonged. 

                                             ❝  We should go back, Arthur will be missing you. ❞

[fiercerebekah]

Preparing for the Holidays

[edivard-blog]

Just Friends.

Oh the bitten mouth, oh the kissed limbs, oh the hungering teeth, oh the entwined bodies. - Pablo Neruda

[derkoniigs-blog]

♛「WINDOW OF THE SOUL」 ⚔ @vivatreginam ⚔

Part One ( Of Possibly Probably Many ) Holiday / Winter Related Things

Everything was just perfect.

There was a light dusting of powdery white snow on the streets, the moon was full and all the lamp posts were shining brightly in welcome. He could even hear the laughter from inside, all merry goers and well-wishers warmed by alcohol, amiability, and a crackling fireplace. It was like something from a picture or a film, him staring through a window bordered by the soft glow of fairy lights - a voyeur of a life that should have been his.

Not that he wasn’t a part of this one. No, all he had to do was go inside - walk right through the door - and he’d be greeted with open arms like an old friend. He’d smile and laugh, he’d reminisce and give all the proper speeches. And he had every intention of playing out his part; he’d step over that threshold like the unfettered and unfussed Golden Boy that he was...Edward just needed time. 

A sigh escaped his cold chapped lips, hands digging deeper into the pockets of his Burberry. 

SHE was beautiful, there was no denying that - she always was. Only tonight was different, wasn’t it? There was a reason for that rosy flush, that wide bright smile and those shining eyes, wasn’t there? Everything about Anne was radiant tonight...and it hurt...it hurt a lot. Because, that reason wasn’t him.

She had two accessories that night. One being the great hulking fop that was Henry Percy; his big dumb grin launching waves of nausea through Edward’s unsettled stomach. ( To think there’d come a time that he envied an oaf like Percy! What an unworthy, buggering, bloody git! ) The second being a rather shimmery bauble on her left ring finger. How it caught the light every time she touched and caressed accessory number one! How it gutted the poor fool watching from outside!

He just didn’t understand. What did Percy have that he didn’t?

Edward had always thought it was fight or flight that kept Anne from going the distance with him. He’d inch close, she’d take a good three steps back. When it was just fucking and fighting things were all right as rain, but when he tried to give voice to the thoughts in his head ( the feelings in his heart ) everything went swirling down the drain. Anne had just packed her bags and left for Paris, offered him the occasional voicemail and made it abundantly clear that she wasn’t ready for him. That she didn’t want him in that way.

Was it because he wasn’t a poet? His words had never been flowery or delicate, there was no music to them the way that Dickon’s professions seemed to be. Had Henry Percy somehow uncovered the waltz that led into Anne’s heart? 

It wasn’t as if the bastard was a better man! Admittedly prideful, it wasn’t arrogance that garnered this negative opinion. Henry Percy was a right and proper wanker, to be painfully kind about it. There was still a scar on Edward’s knuckle from the time he’d clocked the git in the mouth...when he’d said some particularly lewd things about his new fiancee. So really, what the hell was it? Where was it written that he was the one that got to wake up to Anne every morning, to look down at her heavy lidded gaze and that groggy smile? What fate had decreed that he was the one that got to brush away messy strands of hair, stuck on flushed cheeks and caught on long lashes?

( What God would allow this? Had Henry Percy bribed Santa? )

Did he even know her perfect ratio of marshmallows to chocolate in a hot cocoa? Had he ever just sat with her in total silence, having entire conversations without ever saying a word? What about the freckles on her shoulder? Had he traced them? Counted them? Committed the constellation to his memory?

It was hard not to hate him - not when it was blatantly obvious that Edward was the one at fault...that he’d somehow fallen short. There wasn’t an inch of the boy that didn’t long for a second round with Percy’s face and his fists. Every part of him rallied and raged against the idea of walking through that door and offering them his blessing. He didn’t condone this! There were no wishes for a happy future, because as long as they were together, how could anyone be anything but miserable? 

Why then, did she look so blissfully at peace with the world?

He supposed that was the worst of it. There had been men and women sprinkled across their story before, picked up and tossed aside just as quick. Edward had thought for a moment that rekindling the fires with Percy had been something like that - some act of spite on Anne’s part...but if this was a game, he really was the one that was lost.

He just couldn’t stand the thought of making her unhappy.

                                                ❝ You do know the party is inside? ❞ 

A startled exclamation left him, body jolting from the shock to his train of thought. Rubbing his strained eyes ( glistening and red ) he looked down at a pale blonde head. 

❝ The party is wherever I am, ❞ he countered without any real conviction. There was no point. ❝ Shouldn’t I be saying the same thing to you, eh? That’s your best mate in there. ❞ 

Nimue smiled faintly at that, turning her gaze away to stare through the window. ❝ It’s not quite real looking at it from this angle, is it...like we’re on the outside? It’s all blurred edges and muffled noise. ❞   

❝ A little more blunt, please? I’m not Dickon, riddles don’t tickle my happy places much. ❞ A brow arched her way, a grimace building on the firm set of his mouth. 

❝ I suppose I’m saying that the festivities aren’t exactly eliciting tidings of comfort and joy. ❞   

Surprise was his immediate answer, both for her words and the flask she passed him. Expecting liquid courage, Edward got warm tea. He grumbled, handing it back over.

❝ She seems happy though, doesn’t she? ❞  To him, she looked positively effulgent.

❝ It seems to me, ❞ came the lilting voice at his side, ❝ that it’s an impossible task trying to see the world through the space of a window. ❞ 

Her small hand came to rest on his shoulder, patting the fabric of his coat. In an instant, Nimue was gone - passed over the in-between and into the crowded home. Breathing deeply, Edward followed close behind.

                                        ❝ Maybe that window is all a man has? ❞ 

[frommemetoyou]

Send my muse a "❆"

[nimueries-a-blog]

dulcetdisparities-archive:

I’ll randomly generate a number from 1-24 to see how my muse reacts to:

Your muse making mine some hot chocolate

Your muse wrapped up as a present

Your muse making an awful snow man

Your muse asking for help putting up up decorations

Your muse singing carols

Your muse hiding mistletoe everywhere

Your muse hitting mine in the face with a snowball

Your muse being drunk after all the mistletoe and wine

Your muse putting out cookies and milk for Santa

Your muse getting a cold

Your muse tearing down all the Christmas  decor

Your muse making snow angels

Your muse eating too many candy canes and getting sick

Your muse in an ugly holiday sweater

Your muse forcing mine to wear an ugly sweater

Your muse wrapping presents

Your muse making yellow snow

Your muse trying to catch snowflakes on their tongue

Your muse trying to share a scarf with mine

Your muse confessing their love

Your muse inviting mine to go ice-skating

Your muse dressing up as santa

Your muse sitting on my muse’s knee

Your muse attaching jingle bells to everyone

[derkoniigs-blog]

⚔ ┊ ↱ @MACTOISM​ ┊ Buffy Summers ↲ gets a starter from SPIKE !! 

        –  Now this slayer was a tasty slip of a thing, wasn’t she? Here he was expecting some great hulking bint -- ( What? The anointed brat and his nancy boy chant mongers had led Spike to believe this girl was every bit the monster. After all, only some beast would be able to destroy their wrinkly vampire variety Emperor Palpatine. ) BUT there she was all gold and glistening beneath the cheap florescent lights of this dingy little hole in the wall. She was soft, still a little round about the edges, and he could practically smell the vanilla in her shampoo commercial hair. She was like a teeny little toasted marshmallow waiting for consumption. 

Which was all fine and well, because he liked them sticky and sweet. 

Doc Martens padded against the concrete floor - not that you could hear them over all the shit tunes. Modern music was a travesty! The grunge was acceptable, but this synthetic trance nonsense was a mood killer....all droning and melancholy. Of course, she made it look a bit of alright. What, with the way she was gyrating and swinging to the beat all sex and candy. Baby liked to dance.

He trailed around her, lingering back towards the tables while his eyes drank their fill. The vampire’s thoughts had taken a heated turn, the demon in him clawing at his gut. It wanted to grab her...have her...break her. Spike was willing to bet the sound of her snapping neck would prove positively delightful. His tongue dragged over his blunt teeth as he contemplated his course of action. There was a plan, after all - red tape and dotted lines he was supposed to be taking heed of. Only, Spike hated waiting; he’d always been an impatient little bugger when there were itches in need of scratching and something had truly managed to catch his fancy.

This bird might as well have been surrounded by those little arrows made of neon lights. 

❝ You mind if I cut in, Blondie? ❞ His voice was low and gravelly in her ear, hand hovering just above the curve of her waist. There was something amusing about the idea of letting her walk right into his grasp; something that satisfied all those pesky little urges.  ❝ Y’look like you could use someone who enjoys the dance just as much as you. ❞ 

It wasn’t that he didn’t hear the outraged squeak of her male friend, it was mostly that he didn’t rightly care. He’d already written off the wanker. There wasn’t much intimidating about the smell of cheap cologne and...fruit rollups? No, his business was her and her alone. 

❝ Come on love, give us a chance. ❞ He murmured the words so only she could hear, those pale baby blues searing into her soul.  ❝ Walk on the edge, yeah? ❞

[nimueries-a-blog]

THE BLOODY CHAMBER

Below you will find quotes taken directly or paraphrased from the book 'The Bloody Chamber' by Angela Carter. Feel free to change or switch around pronouns.

Are you sure you love him?

I’m sure I want to marry him.

See? I have acquired a whole harem for myself!

My little nun has found the prayer books, has she?

Have the nasty pictures scared, Baby?

Baby mustn’t play with grownups’ toys until she’s learned how to handle them, must she?

But it is our honeymoon!

What is that key? The key to your heart? Give it to me!

Every man must have one secret, even if only one, from his wife.

All is yours, everywhere is open to you - except the lock that this single key fits.

But you must promise me, if you love me, to leave it well alone.

There I can go, you understand, to savour the rare pleasure of imagining myself wifeless.

Some intuition told me that you couldn’t sleep and might, perhaps, pass the insomniac hours at your piano.

And that I could not resist.

No bride should suffer so much, so early in her marriage.

Any bride brought to this castle should come ready dressed in mourning.

Oh God, I can smell the blood.

We may resume our interrupted pleasures, my love.

Now? This moment? Can’t it wait until morning, my darling?

It is the key that leads to the kingdom of the unimaginable.

My little love, you’ll never know how much I hate daylight!

My virgin of the arpeggios, prepare yourself for martyrdom.

What form shall it take?

I can be of some comfort to you, though not much use.

You do not deserve this.

Who can say what I deserve or no? I’ve done nothing; but that may be sufficient reason for condemning me.

You disobeyed him. That is sufficient reason for him to punish you.

I only did what he knew I would.

Shall I come up to fetch you down, Saint Cecilia?

You wicked woman, do you wish me to compound my crimes by desecrating the marriage bed?

Do you think I shall lose appetite for the meal if you are so long about serving it? No; I shall grow hungrier, more ravenous with each moment, more cruel…

Run to me, run! I have a place prepared for your exquisite corpse in my display of flesh!

Good fellow? I am no good fellow!

So late! You will want to sleep.

I have come home.

Yes, my beauty! Gobble you up!

My master has but one desire.

If you wish to give me money, then I should be pleased to receive it.

However, if you choose not to give me a present, then that is your right.

I shall twist a noose out of my bed linen and hang myself with it.

Nothing human lives here.

All cats are cynics.

All good women have a missionary streak; convince her her orifice will be your salvation and she’s yours.

When I want your advice, I’ll ask for it.

Once you’re in her bedroom if you don’t know what to do, then I can’t help you.

Keep your foul thoughts to yourself.

I must and will have her forever!

I’m burning with the fever of love!

I shall steal her away from her husband to live with me.

What do you propose to live on?

I am sick and tired of your foul-mouthed barbs!

You read my thoughts, my love.

Do as I say and never mind the reason!

Dead, is he? Broke his neck, has he?

Mother, mother, you have murdered me!

Coffee, you must have coffee.

I rarely receive visitors and that’s a misfortune since nothing animates me half as much as the presence of strangers.

You have such a fine throat, like a column of marble.

I thought, perhaps, you might irradiate me.

I am condemned to solitude and dark; I do not meant to hurt you.

See, how I’m ready for you? I’ve always been ready for you.

You will feel no pain, my darling.

I will vanish in the morning light; I was only an invention of darkness.

Besides, aren’t you afraid of wolves?

Is it a bed? Shall we make a game of it?

What would you like?

There’s nobody here but we two, my darling?

I love the company of wolves.

Throw it on the fire, dear one. You won’t need it again.

What shall I do with my blouse?

What big eyes you have.

What big arms you have.

What big teeth you have!

[midsommars-deactivated20201109]

[derkoniigs-blog]

⚔ ┊ ↱ @MACTOISM​ ┊ Catalina de Aragón ↲ gets a starter from EDWARD IV !!

         –  ❝ No, no, let her speak Warwick. ❞

He held his hand up in the air, eyes quick to cast a look of warning towards his cousin. They had been at this for too much of the day, squabbling over this wretched French alliance like children. Such had been the nature of things since Edward had chosen a Spanish princess for his bride. Why could Warwick not see that the promise of wealth and armies had been too great a boon to pass up? In this way, they did not need to ally themselves with the traitorous French against Margaret of Anjou waving her banner in the name of the mad once king Henry.

There was much to be gained! England could not afford to keep fighting among their own and Edward intended to put as much a stopper on that as he intended to SCOTCH the She Wolf and her Lancastrian armies entirely! ...And yet, he did not want too great a loss of life. They were all of them Englishmen and they would all be needed to make the Motherland whole again. Brothers fighting brothers was always a complicated thing.

❝ She is our Queen, and I for one, would hear what another mind has to say. I am in want of a fresh look now that yours and mine are strained! ❞

He rounded the table, ushering his new bride to the maps and scrolls littering its surface. This was the daughter of Ferdinand and Isabella of Spain, descendant of intelligent minds and warrior hearts. Far be it from Edward to deny her, at least, of the privilege to speak.

❝ The people of Wales, they have no love for us, ❞ he explains quickly - pointing to the area on the map. ❝ They are Lancastrian subjects through and through and they happily bleed red for it. As you’ve heard, it is the opinion of my cousin that we are in want of a French alliance to bolster our numbers and run the lot of them through. ❞ 

He studied her face carefully, watching as if he might very well see through that head of auburn hair and catch sight of the cogs working at her mind. Though they were married, he knew little of her as a person. She was a pretty slip of a girl, whose accent was ( intentionally ) heavy and favored modest fashions. Catalina, or Catherine for the lazy English tongue, was also devout in her faith. Since her arrival on their shores, she had kept to herself and seemed always out of place. Edward had noticed the growing line of her mouth, those furrowed brows. This was a woman with something she wanted to say.

Warwick, with his mind ever towards France and still feeling slighted by these latest nuptials, noticed nothing about her save that even when she was distant, she seemed always to be fluttering about on the periphery. To him, she was little more than an inconvenience.

                            ❝ What think you of this tangle of thorns, wife? ❞

[derkoniigs-blog]

⚔ ┊ ↱ @MACTOISM​ ┊ BUFFY SUMMERS ↲ gets a starter from KOL MIKAELSON !!

          –  ❝Jeremy Gilbert! Nice to see I’m still on your speed dial mate. Hey, you want to meet up in the batting cages in Denver?❞

Where he had expected to hear the dumb sluggish rasp of Jeremy Gilbert, Kol was instead surprised with something all together more feminine. His smile was quick to die, annoyance settling firmly onto his features at the sound of the doppelganger’s voice over the phone. JOY. Personally, he’d never understand the appeal of Elena Gilbert and her big sad eyes - but then again, he’d never been much for the wilting damsel type. ( He liked pretty little things with sharp tongues. ) Kol’s grip on the phone tightened, playfulness gone.

❝What a treat. ❞ He deadpanned, wry humor seeping into each word. ❝ Hey, you know, I was just thinking about all the clever ways I could have your brother killed, BUT I’d settle for ripping off his illustrated arm instead.❞ 

She had such pretty things to say; he wasn’t buying them.

❝You want to talk about Silas?❞ 

It didn’t mean that he couldn’t play this out a bit. He listened quietly, nodding along.

❝Listen, as much as I would absolutely love to sit down for that pow wow, I’m going to have to take a rain check.❞ His grin returned, listening to the hushed whispers between big and little Gilbert. ❝See, the thing of it is, I’ve gone to grab my own hunter. You will be sure to tell Nik, won’t you?❞ 

And with that the call was ended, his eyes focusing once more on the deadly tango happening in the alley below. In the middle of the floor was a sun kissed blonde in a very impractical pair of shoes. Still, she was a thing of beauty, wasn’t she? It had taken quite a bit of effort to find this slip of a girl. Sunnydale had been a bit of a bust, aside from the temporary high of being close to a Hellmouth. ( What was it with the supernatural and their Doomsday devices? ) Apparently, he’d come to find, Slayers went on holidays.

Either way, Kol was content to stay back and watch as she took care of things below. He’d always had a fondness for the theatrical, and her type had always carried themselves with a little more finesse than The Five -- Generally, they were a sight easier on the eyes as well. 

❝Not bad,❞ he commended - descending once the dust had settled. Hands clapped together in appreciation, a wry grin quirking idly at the corners of his mouth. ❝I’d lament the loss of brethren, but they weren’t exactly a photogenic lot - would’ve ruined the family portrait. You know, I’ve always wondered about the face folds...❞ 

Kol made a face of his own, waving his hand over his brow in emphasis. Some mutation, maybe? Perhaps the wrong vampire had messed with the wrong witch? Either way, they were a bit on the disgusting side, weren’t they?

[derkoniigs-blog]

⚔ ┊ ↱ @MACTOISM​ ┊ JANE VILLANUEVA ↲ gets a starter from CHARLES MACAULAY !!

           –  The hotel was more than a little out of his way, far from Hampden College and the Greek class he was probably going to be missing. He’d had more than a little liquor too. And he knew - Charles knew it was becoming a problem, but God, he just wanted to breathe a little! Was it so much to want to think without the weight of the world crashing down on his shoulders? He patted the flask hiding in his inside coat pocket - There’d be time enough to stop tomorrow. There’d be something else to blame it all on tomorrow.

Today, he was interested in this place’s restaurant. Last time he’d stayed, they’d had an amazing steak and he was in the mood for it. ( Much to Richard’s chagrin. It wasn’t like Charles was going to drive out of the way all by himself. ) What was life if you didn’t grab at it’s small joys? Besides, he was pretty sure their lounge had a piano and his fingers were itching for something - anything - to do.

Speaking of -- He reached into his pocket for the pack of cigarettes he’d bought along the way. The foil was warm on his palm as he packed them against his hand. ( It was supposed to compress the tobacco, give a slower burn. ) Whether the action was necessary or just some old smoker’s superstition, it had become part of the ritual all the same.

❝Hey, you got a light?❞ He asked suddenly, patting himself in search for his lighter. His words were directed towards a pretty slip of a girl sitting by herself. Richard had ran off somewhere, leaving Charles to his own devices, and being the sort to enjoy good company during a meal, he supposed she’d simply have to do. The boy slid into the seat opposite of her.

❝Listen, you’re free to tell me to walk off if you want.❞  He began, still rummaging through his many pockets for that elusive Zippo.  ❝ I just don’t think anyone should have to eat alone, and in my defense, I’ve been told I’m a wonderful conversationalist.❞

He paused long enough to glance up at her, holding out his hand and offering a warm, genuine smile.

                                                     ❝ Charles Macaulay. ❞

[derkoniigs-blog]

you master that whole 'showing without telling' thing that i've never quite been able to grasp. idk how you do it but you're hella pro with that shit

What’s my writing trademark?┊ ACCEPTING

@tetheredwing

I present to you the Holy Grail of writing tools.