#.... Really long

[niuniente]

Since we already have a Swedish man and a Russian man in Tekken, we clearly need a Finnish woman in Tekken.

In the middle. Because Finland is in the middle.

Between those massive man tits.

[ajwild220]

Abord the Captain's ship

(Hero x Civilian-Civilian x Sea Captain)

Summary: A captured and chained civilian finds the pirate ship she is held on overturned by a battle with a sailing vessel. When a sailor mistakes her for a pirate herself, she is drug before the captain for him to decide her fate. She can barely keep her thoughts straight, will she be thrown overboard? Will she be given a fair trial? And oh my word why is the Captain handsome...

Rating: PG

Warnings: Captivity, chained, death (non-MC), battle, blood? Signs of the pirates mistreating civilian.

(I don't know what I'm supposed to put! It honestly isn't too graphic or scary)

The noise above deck was almost deafening, boots stomping on wood, swords clashing violently as shouts reverberated through to the inner bowels of the ship. A full-on war had been waged. Civilian shrunk further into the back of her small cell in the brig. This did not bode well. She swallowed, eyes darting up at the wood-planked ceiling separating her from her enemies’ attackers.

She had been in the brig of these filthy pirates for a week now, a cook stolen from the last ship they had looted. When she refused to aid them, the captain had planned to sell her off at their next port. She could remember the slap she had received for her defiance as she was dragged down away from the light of day and thrown mercilessly into a dirty cell to nurse her bruises.

Her breathing began to quicken as a particularly loud thump sounded right above her. She needed to get out. The short chain pinning her wrist to the side of the ship rattled as Civilian once again tried to pry herself loose. It was useless. She had already tried so many times before.

After she had escaped the first time, the pirates hadn’t spared any precautionary measures.

Civilian slid down the wall making herself small in her corner, perhaps she would be overlooked until the fight was over. However, a tinge of dread settled in the pit of her stomach, with her luck she would be forgotten completely to rot or drowned if whoever was currently battling the pirates decided to sink the ship. With great effort civilian forced the dark thoughts from her mind. Perhaps she would be rescued and released from this misery.

Just then, a great commotion sounded all around her. Her jailor ran down the steps from above deck, beard flying around him, his normally glinting evil eyes alight with fear. He passed in front of her cell, reaching for his sword, which had gotten stuck in his belt, violently trying to rip it from the leather. He never got the opportunity to draw it, however, as another figure rushed down from above. A young sailor clad not in pirate garb but in uniform appeared before her captor and as quick as a flash, the jailer’s body hit the floor lifeless right before her cell.

Civilian stifled a surprised and horrified gasp, her hand reaching to cover her mouth, which was agape at the scene that had just played out before her very eyes. Before she could comprehend what had happened, the sailor was gone, back above deck and into the fray.

A buzz entered Civilian's mind, something between terror and happiness, as she gazed at the man lying still before her when a glint caught her eye. From within the fallen jailor’s pocket, a tiny hint of silver peaked out, shimmering brighter than any diamond. The keys.

Making sure the coast was clear, Civilian began to crawl slowly toward the dead man. As she came up to the cold metal bars, her shackle jerked her back, pulling one arm back and away from freedom. A groan of frustration emanated from her lips as she stretched in vain, her fingertips just short of her goal. Civilian wanted to scream; she was so close.

Another thump from above decks deepened her resolve and without another moment to think, she pulled her chain taunt laying down on her side. Stretching out her leg she poked her toe along the fabric of his pocket and, with some work, managed to drag the keys within reach. Shaking hands made short work of the shackle, which dropped to the floor with a heavy and resounding clunk. She was free.

Civilian flexed her fingers as the key ring merrily jingled with each key she tried in the lock. Wiggling each one with growing confidence as one finally turned in the lock. The heavy cell door swung open with a rusty click, and Civilian risked a step out from her small prison.

This is where she faltered, fingers still gripping the heavy iron door. Even though the fighting from the deck was growing quieter by the minute, it would most definitely not be wise to make a sudden appearance. As she was frozen, pondering her options, a noise tore her from her thoughts, the noise of heavy boots descending the ladder.

Civilian didn’t move, in fact they barely breathed as a rather portly sailor with a stubbled chin and crooked nose practically stomped down the ladder with a fighting gleam upon his sweaty face. He brandished his sword taking note first of the dead man on the floor, then a rather perplexed looking Civilian. Before she could get a word out to explain his sword raised to her a wild grin on his face.

“Prepare to die pirate scum!” His voice was gravelly, and he spoke from his throat.

Civilian instantly paled, “I am no pirate!”

He sneered “That’s what they all say the first time they see trouble.”

Civilian did not know what to do, he blocked the exit. Perhaps bravery, or perhaps it was just pure desperation fueled her as she leaped to the dead man beside her recklessly trying to pull his saber.

In her efforts, she felt a sharp nick in the arm and causing her to let out a loud yelp as she fell back. The sailor’s saber had clipped her bicep. Thankfully either due to her swiftness or the sailor's lack of proper aim, it was nothing more than a deep scratch, yet adrenaline began to surge throughout her causing her breathing to grow quick and her heart to thump rapidly in her chest.

“Please listen to me! I am not a pirate!” She had to throw herself out of the way of his next attack ramming into the wall.

He turned from where he had stumbled, eyes wild.

“You shall die like the lying dog that you are!” he growled, closing in with each step, boxing her in with his sword and body. Civilian couldn’t run, couldn’t move as she felt the cool steel rest against her throat. Her pulse ran wild as her eyes squeezed shut, preparing for the end.

“Wait!”

The end never came.

Instead, the keeper of the saving voice burst into view, pushing away his comrade’s sword and gripping onto his arm.

“Simmons! What are you doing? Take the lady before the captain, he will decide her fate.” The man stood between the two eyes staring accusingly at the man named Simmons.

Simmons wrenched his arm from the newcomer's grip, a deathly fire in his eyes.

“She is a pirate like the rest of them. She should die like one.”

Civilian stifled a whimper as the sword once again found a place on her throat. It was removed instantly as the new sailor once again gripped his comrade’s arm.

“Stand down now or I will tell the captain personally you disobeyed his orders.”

“Gah, his orders were to eradicate the pirate vermin from this ship!”

His rank spittle spewed as he spoke, hatred for every pirate etched in his features. The new sailor spared a glance at Civilian.

“You know as well as I, that killing unarmed maids is not what he meant!”

Civilian’s scared eyes had been darting between the two, hoping whoever this newcomer was, he could keep her from being pinned to the wall by the man Simmons saber. It seemed the goodwill offered by this man was, however, having little effect on the erratic sailor as his eyes continued to bore into Civilian's very soul.

His companion seemed to notice this and added more softly “God help you if the captain hears you have shed blood like this.”

Simmons’s glare seemed to falter at these words causing him to blink out of his bloodthirsty trance as his sword dropped from its place at Civilian's throat.

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Civilian blinked rapidly in the sunlight, completely unaccustomed to the warm glow. It took a moment for her to finally readjust to the light as she was continuously pulled across the familiar deck, rough seaworn hands firmly on each arm. Simmons on one side, the other man on the other. Her hands were bound firmly behind her with a bit of rope leaving her quite helpless.

Sailors were everywhere shouting, cleaning up any remnants of the battle that had ensued. They were swarming the deck, coming up from below, already in the rigging. Bright blue tunic-like uniforms with silver trim, while others wore simple white sailor’s clothes. It was so much to take in it made her head throb.

This new crew was strong, stronger than any she had ever seen to take down a pirate vessel so easily, so efficiently. After all, this was the second change of ships she had seen in the last week.

As she was pushed past a group of sailors moving weapons; she could feel their stares heavy on the back of her neck and sense the anger on their faces. It made her feel sick. Her captors were practically dragging her unwilling form forward step by step as a shout rang out.

“Hartley!”

Civilian could feel the man who had intervened for her turn sharply on her arm at what seemed to be his name. Almost causing her to trip as her captors abruptly stopped as a man of tall stature and jet-black hair strode into sight.

“Who is this?” his voice was deep and commanding. Surely he was an officer.

“A pirate” Simmons grinned toothily.

“We are unsure of that!” Hartley interjected “We are taking her to the captain.”

The tall man before them nodded solemnly as civilians squirmed in the sailors’ grip. Whoever the captain was, she was not sure she wanted to see him. The officer eyed her before nodding to her the men at her arms.

“Take her.”

They didn’t need another word as she was dragged all the way to the edge of the ship.

Everywhere sailors were carrying supplies, weapons, rope, and the like. It was chaotic as some swung on ropes and others walked across several boards connecting the ships at the sides. It was to one of these boards that civilian was pushed to where she had a sickening view of the beautiful yet steep drop and the lapping blue water below. The breeze blew her hair into her eyes and mouth, but she couldn’t move it with her hands securely behind her. What little she could make out was the ship across was beautiful and well-trimmed. Crimson and blue flags flapped in the wind. It was larger than the barnacley vessel she was currently on and twice as well scrubbed.

Her arms being released sent a shock to her brain as she turned to her sailors. Simmons had begun to lean down as if to heft her on his shoulders like a bag of meal. She stepped back instantly.

“Don’t touch me! I-” She once again gazed at the dizzying drop. “I’ll walk.” She insisted unsteadily. Simmons offered a toothy grin sweeping his arm in the direction of the board.

“Be my guest.”

Shakily she placed a foot on the board, muscles tense as she tested her weight on it. How she wished for her arms to balance. Looking back at Simmons’ frightening expression and she turned instantly, raising her chin. Civilian would do this alone.

And she did... until Simmons stepped out behind her.

The sudden shift of the board was too much for her to compensate for, and the world turned dangerously on its side as she felt her footing leave the board and slip easily into the air below.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The cold water was a shock as Civilian’s head went under. Her muscles tightened and her hands fought to be free, but the ropes were too tight. Civilian kicked with all their might, even kicking off their shoes in an effort to rise to back to the surface. Yet it didn’t work. The fabric of her clothes and the inactivity of her arms drug her down. A scream tried to surface yet she smartly held her mouth shut. The more she kicked the more her lungs begged for air, pretty soon she would be forced to take a breath whether or not she had come to the surface.

As Civilian had reached a point of absolute panic, she felt the weight of strong arms around her. They pulled and Civilians head finally broke the surface of the waves. She coughed trying to take in as much salty air as she could.

The rest was a blur as Civilian was heaved aboard the great ship and thrown to the deck, coughing and spluttering. Forced to her knees, her forehead rested against the wood in front of her as she tried to breathe properly again, gulping in deep breaths of blessed air.

Slowly and surely, she began to become aware again. She could feel the sting of her arm where Simmons's blade had scratched her, throbbing from the salt. The ropes that held her hands made her skin smart horribly where it was bound too tightly, but at the moment, that was one of the least of her worries. The lovely sea breeze was bitterly cold now that her clothes were doused with salt water and clung to her body. She could hear the crew as well, some soft whispering, others louder. It seemed the whole ship had drawn its attention to her sopping-wet existence.

Nerves ate at her stomach as she became aware of her vulnerable position, and she gulped down the desire to cry. As if summoned the sounds of boots hitting the deck as if someone had jumped down from a height resounded through the crowd. The crew went almost completely silent.

“What is all this?” A commanding voice challenged.

Civilian closed her eyes, hiding behind the curtain of her dripping hair, praying her fears were incorrect.

“A prisoner, Captain.” A man called.

Civilian mentally cursed her luck.

A slight pause.

“A very wet prisoner.” Several chuckled at the captain's statement and Civilian tensed as she could feel the vibrations of his footsteps tread around her.

Simmons's throaty growl was heard, “She’s a filthy pirate, captain. We were bringing her to you, but she jumped.”

Through the terror, Civilians' blood boiled at the outrageous lie.

“Is that how you speak to a lady after you drop her in the water?”

The captain’s voice was displeased, he must have seen the whole thing and it sent a shiver down Civilian's spine. She didn’t dare look up.

“Sir, beggin’ your pardon, she did it on purpose!”

“Jumped in the water on purpose, arms bound behind her?”

The crew gave a light chuckle at the absurdity. At least Civilian didn’t look the type to do such a thing on purpose.

“I uh, well,” Simmons tried to hobble together his excuses. “Captain, I certainly didn’t do it on purpose. Of any rate she’s a pirate!”

“And that pardons your incompetency?” The captains words resonated cold. The crew grew silent as his voice rang out once more, “I shall deal with you later. But in the meantime-“ Civilian once again could hear his boots as they came into her view and stopped right before her. Civilian swallowed mouth gone dry as she felt eyes burning into her entire body.

The captain spoke, the anger now absent as he looked down on the kneeling captive.

“Hartley. Tell me what happened and why she is bound.”

The nervous voice of Hartley spoke out and Civilian could picture him ringing his hands.

“Well sir, Simmons found her in the brig and was about to kill her for being a pirate. I came upon him and said that we should bring her here for a trial. After all she doesn't look like any pirate I’ve ever seen. So, we did, she seemed like a real slippery thing so we tied her so we could bring her to you.”

The captain must have nodded as Civilian heard no response. “Piracy is a very serious charge.”

Civilian gulped and bit her lip wishing she could melt through the deck and back into the water forever. The captain’s boots took another step forward and civilian’s body tensed in the rope binding in anticipation for what was to come. However what happened was nothing like she expected.  

“Miss, would you tell me your side of the story?”

The captain crouched before Civilian elbows on his knees and hands loosely in front of him ducking his head ever so slightly trying catch her eyes.

“Miss?”

Civilian’s eyes however remained firmly fixed on the well-scrubbed boards of the deck, and the ever-growing puddle that came from her wet form.  She could feel his warm presence before her, so insanely calm, he was completely in control. Surely if he wanted, he could call Simmons in an instant to throw her back overboard for crimes she did not commit. This thought only aided her shivering, and against her will a single salty tear slipped down her nose joining the water from her sopping curls as it fell and onto the already dark wood.

When she didn’t reply, he tried a different approach.

“Tell me this, are you a pirate?”

Civilian shook her head urgently: no.

She could hear him whisper to himself “I thought as much.”

His voice returned to its normal volume as he queried. “Can you tell me how you came to be abord a notorious pirate ship?”

Civilians mouth opened and closed trying to formulate the words when he interrupted her thoughts.

“You can look at me, I don’t bite. I promise.” He once again ducked his head slightly and dropped to kneeling on one knee. “Please?”

His tone took her off guard. He had been gentle before, a nicer voice than she had heard in months. However, the tone he used as if for a wounded dog or frightened child. To hear such gentleness from someone with such power gave her the courage to lift her head even slightly. Slowly Civilian raised her head, cautiously coming out from her wet curtain of curls to see the man in front of her.

What met her eyes made her pause in wonder. To that moment all she had seen was well kept brown leather boots and a dark brown pair of breeches. When she lifted her eyes, everything seemed in order with a captain of his standing, a well-tailored patterned red vest over a pristine cotton shirt. Well, it would have been pristine if it wasn’t partially wet with salt water and small splashes of blood from the battle. A leather belt was secured around his waist holding his saber which stuck out far behind him, as well as an oiled overcoat and tricorn. What astonished her was not any of this but rather his face.

He could not have been more than several years older than civilian. His face was a deep tan with well arched eyebrows, dirty blond hair sticking out from beneath his tricorn and full lips forming a small smile at her compliance. What told her his age however was not his youthful face but rather his eyes. Dark and warm like the leather of his boots, a deep welcoming brown that showed strength and intelligence, after just a moment of seeing them she understood why the crew entrusted their service to him. For the first time since being thrown to the deck a spark of hope fluttered in Civilians chest. She just might make it out of this mess alive.

“Excellent.” He smiled softly as she looked at him. “Would you mind telling me why you are here?”

She swallowed “My ship was captured a week ago.” Civilian could feel the crew lean in listening to her unsteady words. “I was taken aboard.”

“What about the others?” his head cocked, and you could tell he already had guessed.

“No others. Just me.” Civilians head drooped in remembrance trying not to think about the event which had plagued her dreams for the last week.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” His voice was genuine yet not surprised. “I beg your pardon, but out of the whole crew why would they choose you?”

Civilian took a breath once again looking up, her arms aching horribly from her position, but she pushed through. “I’m a cook. A-And-“she paused wondering just what she should include “the brute who grabbed me seemed to fancy me. He advocated to the captain that I could aid them in the galley.” Civilian stole a glance at the young man before her she was met with an expression of understanding.

“She aided the pirates!” A man yelled from the crowd of sailors.

The captain’s head snapped upwards, his face and tone stern as he shouted.

“Silence! Let the lady speak!”

The deck obeyed instantly, and Civilian couldn’t help but tremble with wide wondering eyes at the one before her who could command a ship so young.

“I-I didn’t aid them! I refused. They threw me in the brig where-where” she turned slightly cursing her sore body searching for Simmons. “Where Simmons found me. I have the cuff marks on my wrist to prove it.” She stuttered, voice begging to be believed. Eyes daring to dart to the sailors in sight and back to the captain trying to keep herself from growing frantic. “Believe me I would have rather died with my own before becoming one of them!”

There was a pause as he searched her face for a brief moment, “I believe you.” He finally pronounced, as his eyes flicked over her, noticing the slight panic as her eyes swept over the crew.

His voice lowered so only she could hear “Breathe; they are under me. On my ship we strive for justice.” His tone was serious yet once again calming and soft. “None of them will so much as touch you.”

Somehow his voice cut through Civilian’s fear, and she nodded body relaxing slightly. She believed him.

“One last thing” The captain raised his voice so the crew could hear “what was your ships name?”

She glanced around at all the faces peering at her before she answered loud enough for all to hear. “The Tide Runner.” Civilian paused the sentence feeling incomplete. “Sir.” She added.

The captain’s eyebrow quirked slightly at the last bit, but he shrugged it off to glance over his left shoulder. Civilian followed the captain’s gaze to one of the sailors who seemed to be deep in thought. Suddenly the man’s eyes cleared as if he had finally found what he was looking for and gave a quick nod to the captain.

The captain offered Civilian a small smile as he rose to his full height shoulders thrown back in a stance of authority. Voice booming out to all the crew.

“Listen up lads! It has been confirmed. This young lady is not a pirate but the unfortunate victim of those whom we have just defeated. She will be sailing with us at least until we reach port.” He paused, looking out among the familiar faces. “Until then! She is a lady and shall be treated as such. She is under my protection. Any who dare disobey this order will suffer the dire consequences.” A powerful glint came to his eyes. “Am I understood?”

Instantly a hearty answer of “Aye aye Captain.” Rang out from every sailor, contrasting greatly from the silence of before.

“Alright then lads, as you were!” Immediately the deck was alive and moving again like a well-oiled machine. Just as it was before civilian was the center of attention.

The captain took one look at his handiwork, offering a small nod of satisfaction before once again turning his attention to the girl, whose teeth were now chattering, kneeling on the deck. He took a knee before her as he was moments ago.

“I’m sorry my crew tied you and treated you as they did. Believe me on my honor, it was not by my bidding.” His face was so earnestly concerned Civilian almost forgot about how badly her body ached from kneeling so long…almost.

Her eyes shyly met his, unused to such chivalry. “I accept your apology.” She couldn’t help but smile at the happiness on his face. “But would you mind helping me up? Please?”

He sprung into action looking almost sheepish that he hadn’t done it sooner.

“Of course!” He swiftly came up beside her arm looping under her armpit and easing her to her, rather unsteady, feet. No longer sheltered from the sea breeze, civilian couldn’t stop her teeth from chattering another moment as she subconsciously leaned closer into the captain’s warm grip.

“I don’t suppose you have a dry change of clothes?” The captain questioned.

Civilian just shook her head slightly embarrassed. The captain simply nodded, and you could see the gears turning in his head.

“Can you stand?”

Civilian focused on their numb legs testing their balance before replying. “I think so.” The captain slowly released his grip on her arm, watching to make sure she didn’t fall back to the deck. When he was sure of her footing, he peeled off his over coat and delicately draped it over her shoulders.

“It’s the best I can do at the moment.” He offered her an apologetic smile as he reached for his knife. “Hold still while I remove the ropes.” He moved behind her having to readjust his coat for a good view of her bound hands before he began to saw away at the coarse wet rope. Civilian winced as the cord was pulled taunt to avoid cutting her skin. “Sorry,” the captain’s voice was genuine.

“It’s alright.” Civilian almost whispered, attempting to keep her voice steady. With a bit more sawing, the ropes released Civilian's wrists, eliciting an almost immediate sigh of relief as her shoulders were able to relax once more. She drew her wrists to the front of her body, easing her stiff muscles and gently rubbing over the sore skin.

The captain’s boots thumped on the deck as he once again came into view to stand in front of her and Civilian couldn’t help but heartily thank him with a smile of relief.

He scratched the back of his neck, “No need to thank me, it shouldn’t have happened in the first place.” His gaze fell to her now freed wrists, and his brow furrowed in concern. He reached out hesitantly before looking into her eyes. “May I?” She nodded and gave him her wrists. He turned them over, examining how the ropes had rubbed them raw, his callous hands careful to avoid the damaged skin. It also became apparent to Civilian that one could see the bruises and cuts from her shackling in the brig. Apparently, the captain noticed too, as he held up that wrist in particular.

“Iron cuff?”

“Yes.”

His expression was confused as if to ask why they would chain someone like her. “I escaped once.” she offered. His eyebrows raised in surprise causing her to smile.

“Quite impressive.” His face reflected his words as he released his hold on her wrist. “We will treat those, as well as your arm” He gestured to the place Simmons cutlas has clipped her “as soon as we can, I’m afraid our physician can’t be spared at the moment. I hope you understand.”

Civilian nodded with a tight smile. It couldn’t be easy for any physician after a battle of that size.

He interrupted her musings as he jumped into action. “In the meantime, we need to find you some dry clothes.” Civilian watched as he drug his teeth over his bottom lip issuing a shrill whistle. It almost made her want to cover her ears. Before long a young boy with a shock of red hair and peppered with freckles scampered his way up to them standing stick straight and saluting very seriously. Civilian noted the proud smile on the young captain’s face as he turned to her.

“This is Auggie he will help you find some suitable clothes.” His attention turned to the boy. “Take her to my quarters” He paused eyes thoughtfully studying civilians wet form. Normally civilian would have blushed at such an examination. However, the captain seemed good in his intentions. “See if you can find anything in my clothes.” He decided firmly.

His attention once again was on her face, “I’m sorry I doubt anything will fit.”

She tried not to blush and rubbed her arms underneath his borrowed jacket. “That’s alright I’ll manage.” She offered a smile.

“Excellent.” He returned her smile. It was quite dashing now that Civilian had a moment to think about it. Yet she pushed that unwelcome thought away as soon as it entered her mind.

“Well, there was just one more thing I needed to mention before you go. I apologize, I will be brief I know you are cold.” The captain nodded to Auggie as he led civilian a few steps away out of the boy’s hearing.

“I will have you know Simmons will be punished. I can tell there are things that I do not know yet and I intend to find them out.” He was very serious, and Civilian could see a determination in his eyes. “However, I wanted to ask you if there was anything I should know.” Civilian didn’t know what to say. She had gone from being nearly abandoned in a brig to being under the watch of a strong and vigilant, not to mention young and handsome, sea captain, it was almost too much. Her voice came out scratchy, as she looked at the deck beneath her feet.

“No, nothing you should know, sir.”

He chuckled, “Please, you make it sound as if I am my father. You can drop the sir.”

Her eyes rose to his deep brown ones once more and smiled. “If you insist.”

“But honestly, you need not spare Simmons.” He grew grave once more, “You can tell me any wrong he committed against you.”

“None that no one else knows” she answered honestly.

His face was still grave, which puzzled her.

“Your cheek tells a different story.”

He reached up gently, pushing her damp curls out of the way of the bruise upon her cheekbone.

“Oh.” Her eyes broke contact before returning to his, “That was not Simmons’s doing. That was yesterday.”

He nodded and she could see the anger against the pirates simmering behind his gaze.

“I am both sorry and happy to hear that.” He nodded deeply. “Thank you.” He paused, looking over her, over the ship, over his men who were scurrying about as busy as could be before again putting on that stunning smile.

“Well! You should follow Auggie. Tell him to get you something to eat from the galley. I shall see you later.”

With that, he tipped his hat and, upon seeing her safe with the cabin boy, walked away with the proud stride only sailors possess, leaving behind a curious civilian to go down below decks.

[snowthornes]

A warning: ahead is a very very long essay-slash-ramble about Salyra, a character from Crown of Exile by @ramonag-if . I have a lot of thoughts about her complexities as a character as well as the tragedies of her relationship with the MC, so I figured I should just put them all into words before I explode. If you haven't read CoE yet, please do — you won't regret it!! Especially if you're a huge fan of complicated, "okay wow this hurts" family angst and heart melting romance. 🥹✨✨

Salyra is someone who possesses the self-created tragedy of a hero. When Salyra believes in something, she believes in it with her whole heart, and she'll stop at nothing to fight for it. She's... the hero that many adore, but hurts those closest to her, directly or indirectly. Like her family, who've heard nary a word from her for all those years, not knowing if she was alive or dead. Like the MC.

Salyra's sacrificed countless things for her cause, and those sacrifices sometimes involved the hearts of those who loved her.

She's willful. Willful and determined. Great qualities for a rebellion's leader/figure of inspiration; not so much for when you're trying to patch up a relationship with your child who had long thought you dead, and had suffered for it.

It's like she thinks that if she pushes enough, if she shows MC the depths of her sincerity, it'll make MC accept her after all those years. It doesn't. For certain MCs, anyway. It only serves to push them further away.

Right, this is going to swerve into more specific territory. I'll be going into a little more detail on my MC's relationship with Salyra. The relationship between Salyra and my MC just... fascinates me.

Salyra is the high priestess, adored by the people of Ishari. MC... is MC. They were discriminated, mistreated, and followed with gazes of spite and distrust in Cyre because of their Ishari blood. Once MC returned to Ishari, they were greeted with — surprise, surprise — even more gazes of distrust and suspicion! Partly because of their blood guard parentage, partly because of their loyalty to the exiled prince, etc etc.

You stare at Rana, suddenly conflicted with anger and betrayal. You never wanted a sister, you only wanted a mother. Rana stares at you, suddenly gripping onto Mama's arm and twisting behind her, as if afraid to look up at you. A look of disappointment flashes through Mama's eyes, but it is directed at you, not Rana. It is a look you remembered Mama using when anyone would upset you as a child and now, you find yourself bearing the full force of her frown. You would laugh were it not so painful to think about the life you were robbed while Mama evidently moved on.

"Avriel," Mama murmurs. "You are my son and I know that I have not always been there for you, but I would like to remedy that. We cannot gain back what we have lost, but we have time now to find each other again."

"I need to go," Mama murmurs. "Rana needs me, Avriel. So does Danzor."

For a moment, you catch sight of your mother, but she does not see you. After returning to the temple, she has washed and changed, the priestesses who had been chanting earlier, now crowding around her. Anu called Mama the High Priestess and you cannot help but wonder just how long she has been in Ishari.

It's these. These scenes. Salyra has built a life in Ishari, a life without the MC. A loving family, a figure loved by the people... this is all that MC knows of who Salyra is now. The Salyra presented to him is a hero. A golden existence, a light in the dark, fearless leader of the rebellion.

(They need you? What about me, Mama? Do I not need you as well?)

(Those who had looked at you with suspicion now look at her with respectful, even admiring eyes. Salyra has a life here. But you — you are just the same. You are an outsider still, whether in Cyre or Ishari.)

Avriel is genuine and soft hearted, but he has a spine of unbending steel. He is proud. All those years mourning Salyra, grieving for her, only to find her alive and well in Ishari and with a family that she so clearly (and here we have a peek into Avriel's pain induced bitter thoughts, because honestly, that sad and angry child from so long ago never truly left him) prioritizes over him.

It's like his life has been rendered into a bitter joke.

What does Salyra want from him? Does she expect him to come and go as she pleases, there when she wants him and gone when she doesn't? Is he expected to wait in the wings as Salyra tends to her new family, only playing the part of a loving son when her eyes turn to him once more? Salyra, his mama. Salyra, now the head priestess, looked upon with respect by the very people who had looked at him with such suspicion.

(^ Above is Avriel's current thought process. Yes, he's a real mess. Irus is having a hell of a time soothing him, as the usual gentle-eyed man is currently very much like a wounded cat with its claws out and teeth bared, eyes set in a glacial glint.)

And honestly, those words might be quite unfair to Salyra. We do not know what she's experienced. Not yet. But are the words left spoken and unspoken between mother and child always fair? I think not. Salyra's expectations of MC could be called unfair as well, depending on the MC you're playing.

I just. I just find this so tragic. Salyra is a deeply complex character. Her greatest strengths are also her deepest flaws. Ironic, how the qualities that made her a hero could be the very thing that chills the heart of her child. I remember you said that Salyra will wise up on how to treat the MC in a future chapter, but wow. The tragedy of Salyra being her own undoing and the detoriation of the relationship between lauded mother and outcast child is just. Wow.

Also. leaving this here because Irus + Nearly Feral with Rage MC is everything:

You nearly laugh, the bitter rage that has been festering beneath your skin like a swarm of wasps, threatens to erupt from your skin. Prince Irus settles a hand on your shoulder and instantly, you are looking at him, noting the concern in his gaze. All at once, the rage leaves you, until you can finally breathe once more.

[putrid-tongue]

— STARTER FOR @prvtocol (⤻ Lady Brianne of the Dorwiniodhrim)

shakh  zigûrû  hurnash  hoir—  the  dark  lord  is  gone.  his  hordes  scattered,  his  mannish  devotees  following  the  grains  of  sand  and  the  flow  of  time.  mordor  lays  quiet  once  more,  as  no  foulness  or  wretched  creature  will  remain  honorbound  in  pious  awaiting.  a  spell  broken,  a  tentative  peace  achieved.  yet  in  the  dark  lord's  entourage  are  also  those  of  grander  designs  and  minds  of  their  own,  and  mordú  is  amongst  them.  while  his  master  dwells  in  dol  guldur,  he  is  content  to  further  his  influence  'ere  it  wanes  entirely.  and  in  his  heart  he  thinks  that  HE  DOES  IT  FOR  HIS  FELLOWS,  for  all  adûnai  bereft  of  love  and  higher  calling.  THÛ  is  pain,  and  he  is  terror—  but  he  is  also  freedom  &&  knowledge.  has  there  ever  been  a  path  worth  pursuing  that  would  not  test  those  wandering  it?  the  time  for  Men  has  come,  and  mordú  will  labor  for  it  to  be  greater  than  all  that  came  before.  too  fresh  is  the  pain  of  seeing  the  great  sea  heave  akin  to  a  beast  come  alive,  for  the  skies  to  darken  in  a  fury  befit  of  the  end  of  the  very  world.  and  beneath  him  the  earth  had  groaned  and  wept  &&  without  being  there  he  had  known:  his  home  is  lost,  and  would  never  return.  broken  by  petty  fury  over  children  who  yearned  for  something  they  would  never  have.  no  part  of  mordú  regrets  his  hand  in  sauron's  bloody  designs  upon  westernesse,  let  it  be  a  wound  upon  the  hearts  of  uncaring  gods.  would  that  it  tarnishes  their  crowns,  and  make  heavy  their  hearts.  they  have  not  shown  love  to  his  people,  and  would  be  granted  no  love  in  turn.

indeed,  he  will  carry  the  spark  of  sauron's  wisdom  to  the  south  and  the  east,  and  will  teach  those  with  the  minds  to  listen  and  the  courage  to  follow.  many  already  worship  sauron,  and  they  name  him  marec,  dasata,  vâtra  &&  countless  more  names,  for  he  is  ancient  and  has  been  with  the  tribes  of  harad  and  khând  &&  the  daen  since  the  DISTANT  MISTS  OF  THE  FIRST  AGE.  mordú's  mind  is  now  set  upon  green  and  fertile  lands,  home  to  an  industrious  and  worldly-wise  people  whom  will  be  a  rather  brilliant  jewel  upon  thû's  crown.  dorwinion  may  yet  become  the  breadbasket  supporting  mordor's  limping  economy,  and  secure  trade  with  western  regions  and  more  distant  places  such  as  umbar  or  the  proud  cities  and  moving  settlements  of  the  khârai  peoples.

from  dol  guldur,  dorwinion  is  merely  a  few  weeks  to  the  east  with  a  fast  horse,  and  mordú  takes  great  pains  to  avoid  the  further  reaches  of  greenwood  that  is  most  unfriendly  to  him,  as  well  as  the  running  water  of  the  celduin—  its  sound  enough  to  churn  his  stomach.  though  he  would  arrive  in  those  friendlier  lands  at  last  without  noteworthy  incident.  it  is  a  great  no  man's  land  between  greenwood  and  the  sea  of  rhûn,  and  neither  man  nor  elf  traverses  it  with  a  light  heart  in  fear  of  veering  south,  where  the  haunting  dagorlad  plains  await.  the  peoples  of  dorwinion  suffered  greatly  all  those  years  ago,  when  their  gardens  burned  in  the  pyres  of  war—  destruction  wrought  without  reason  or  mercy.  and  even  though  this  is  now  so  many  cycles  of  the  sun  ago,  mordú  has  little  doubt  that  the  memory  of  it  yet  prevails  in  their  hearts.  it  may  complicate  matters,  though  he  will  not  shy  away  from  the  arts  of  deception  if  he  has  to.

mordú  appears  to  the  people  as  a  sage  of  his  own,  now  dúnedain,  in  colorful  clothes  of  red  and  blue  and  green.  lacquered  beads  tell  tale  of  his  studies  &&  the  layered  cloth  hiding  his  brow  and  head  a  sign  of  deference  to  the  wisdom  of  the  cosmos.  he  is  kindly  and  patient,  easy  to  take  to  despite  his  wondrous  height  keeping  others  at  a  distance  upon  a  first  meeting.  KNOWLEDGE  he  would  share  freely,  and  he  is  wont  to  spend  the  night  on  invitation  within  various  settlements,  to  tell  tales  long  forgotten  in  the  comfort  of  firelight.  whispers  of  a  wise  wanderer  precede  him  within  the  span  of  mere  weeks,  though  he  is  not  always  met  with  friendliness  and  curiosity.  many  remain  weary  of  him,  and  they  will  trade  with  mordú  but  not  let  him  into  their  houses  or  their  inns,  instead  bidding  him  to  be  on  his  way.  a  fact  that  evokes  in  him  no  great  ire,  as  his  purpose  here  is  to  learn  all  there  is  to  know  about  the  dorwiniodhrim.

his  findings  would  lead  him  to  the  dónu  dales,  a  rich  and  fertile  area  called  deneral  in  their  tongue.  mordú  learned  of  a  family  inhabiting  these  parts,  their  shared  blood  with  both  the  gargath  and  the  donathig  making  them  uniquely  influential  in  his  assumption.  and  he  had  spoken  before  the  council,  and  he  had  been  granted  audience.  as  nothing  but  a  humble  sage,  a  scholar  &&  teacher  they  would  have  nothing  to  fear  of  him.  mordú  would  like  that  to  be  true.  wills  it  to  be  true.  in  his  heart  there  is  yet  a  space  for  love  and  admiration,  however  shadowed  and  misguided  it  may  be.  dorwinion  is  breathtaking,  and  its  people  uniquely  skilled  in  all  things  that  would  grow.  there  is  beauty  here,  and  he  would  not  love  to  see  it  wasted.

closing  his  eyes,  the  tall  adûna  lifts  his  face  towards  the  midday  sun.  around  him  the  air  smells  sweet—  of  dew  and  flowers  &&  vines  in  their  bloom.  he  looks  to  be  not  a  day  above  his  fortieth  winter,  though  there  are  dark  circles  beneath  his  piercing  blue  eyes,  and  no  warmth  in  his  cheeks.  the  long  hair  laying  upon  his  chest  is  streaked  in  grey,  though  it  remains  thick  and  has  yet  to  lose  its  luster.

❛  i  am  rather  glad  the  realm-master  has  deigned  to  hear  me  out,  and  that  it  is  you  who  is  willing  to  show  me  this  labor  of  love.  never  have  i  laid  eyes  upon  a  garden  so  bountiful.  it  makes  me  wish  i  had  arrived  later  this  year,  only  so  that  i  may  see  the  vines  heavy  with  grapes. ❜  his  gaze  is  directed  back  at  brianne,  searching  and  heavy  &&  like  he  may  see  more  than  merely  her  outward  appearance.  ❛  i  do  hail  from  down  south,  not  far  from  harondor  and  the  basin  of  the  great  river  anduin.  not  much  grows  there,  though  we  have  found  ways  to  coax  life  from  even  brittle  and  dry  earth. ❜

kohl-rimmed  eyes  crinkle  with  a  kind  smile,  showing  merely  the  barest  sliver  of  teeth.  ❛ i  truly  hope  that  trade  will  eventually  prosper  between  our  peoples,  though  i  have  heard  talk  of  you  being  an  industrious  woman.  perhaps  my  worries  are  unfounded. ❜

[jessi4fanfics]

TROLLS HOLIDAY OF HAVOC: Part Two (also long lol)

AGAIN THIS IS LONG FOR TUMBLR FANFICS! Here's the link to it on Wattpad if you need it!

"But, what if she gets asked by a COMPLETE STRANGER to go to the dance?" Clay asked outloud. "Maybe I should ask her just so that doesn't happen."

"Then go ask her." John was still on the couch, just this time he had a sleeping mask over his eyes.

"Okay, you're right! I'll go ask her!" Clay stood up then stopped. "But what if I ask her and she thinks I like her?!! WHICHITOTALLYDON'TBECAUSETHATWOULDBEREALLYWEIRDIFIHAD ACRUSHONMYBESTFRIENDHEHEHEHE!!!" 

"Then don't ask her." John didn't move.

"Okay." Clay sat back down. "But, what if a random guy asks her, and she, being naive, says yes, the guy takes her, they dance, fall in love, decide to date, then he decides he doesn't want to date her cuz he's a jerk, dumps her, and breaks her sweet innocent little heart?!!"

"Then ask her," John grunted. 

"Alright." Clay stood up then stopped. "But what if--?"

"Oh my gosh!!!" John stood up and grabbed his younger brother by the shoulder. "Dude! You obviously want to ask her to the dance! You're just trying to make up lame excuses which you yourself don't even believe! Just go ask her and stop talking to me!!"

"You're right!" Clay took a deep breath in. "This is stupid. She's my best friend. I should just go ask her." He started to march, then stopped again. "But, what if--?"

John glared at him. "Bro, if you say one more word, I'm going to lock you out of the bunker."

Then he flopped back onto the couch, muttering about why he happened to be the one stuck with all these weirdos for brothers.

Clay sighed, then started toward the elevator. There he met Floyd.

"Hey, Floyd," he said, ignoring the 15 bags of groceries Floyd was trying to balance in his hands.

"MMHGDFF," Floyd said from behind the bag closest to him.

"Well, some greeting!" Clay was offended. "That's the last time I say 'Hey' to you!" And he stomped onto the elevator.

As it was going up, he heard a bunch of stuff fall and-- oof, was that glass?

"Darn itttt," came Floyd's voice. 

He must've dropped the groceries.

Clay winced but, deciding John had better stop being a lazy bum and get off the couch, ignored it.

Down below, Floyd sighed and bent down to pick up the glass from the jelly jar he had bought, along with a million other groceries.

"What was that?" Spruce came into view and saw what had happened. "Oh! Here, lemme help." He bent down to pick up the milk carton which had spilled everywhere.

"Thanks. That's the exact opposite of what Clay offered to do," Floyd said good-naturedly.

Bruce chuckled. As soon as they got the mess picked up, he helped him carry the groceries into the living room, where they dumped them on the coffee table in front of John.

"Hey!" John sat up. "You're in my space!"

"Oh, we're sorry, master!" Bruce did a fake bow. "Please accept our forgiveness." 

John gave him an exasperated sigh.

Floyd smiled. "Shouldn't you be off asking a girl to the dance or something?"

"What?" John lifted the eye mask a bit to stare at Floyd.

"He means begging a girl to go to the dance, sorry," Bruce smarted.

"Ha-ha. Very funny." John slapped his mask back on. "As a matter of fact, I could get any girl to go anywhere with me. But I don't get what the big deal is! I mean, Branch already said we didn't need to go, I don't know why everyone all of the sudden feels like we need to go now."

"Jeez, chill, we didn't pressure you, we just asked," Bruce said.

"Rudely," John told him.

Floyd eyed John for a bit. Then he grinned. "There's a girl you wanna ask, isn't there?"

John bolted up, his mask falling off. "Of course there is!! She's perfect, pretty green eyes, sweet soothing voice, but she'd never want to go with me."

"Why would you say that?" Bruce said sarcastically.

Floyd nudged him. He sat beside John. "The only way you'll ever know, John, is by asking her."

"But what if she says no?" John asked, biting the tips of his fingers anxiously. "It'll be the end of me. She'll gossip to all of her friends like what all teenage girls do and--"

"Wait, teenage?" Floyd held up a hand to stop him. "Okay, first: Not all teenage girls do that. And secondly, you want to ask a teenager to the dance?!"

John shrugged. "Yeah. Why not?"

"Why not? Cause you're almost 50, that's why not!!" Bruce spoke up.

"I am not almost fifty...I think." John tried to remember what his age was-- he had lost count. "The point isn't whether or not I'm too old for her, the point is whether or not she'd go to the dance with me. It's not like I'm asking her to marry me or anything."

"He's got a point," Floyd agreed. "It's just a dance."

"Yeah, but with him it's hard to tell what he might do," Bruce smirked.

John glared at him. 

"Ignore him," Floyd said. "John, if you really like her, you should go ahead and ask her."

John took a deep breath. "Okay. Maybe you're right. I'll go and try." He got up and began walking toward the elevator in the slowest way possible.

"Dude, are you okay?" Bruce asked.

"I...Seem...To...Be...Stuck...In...Slow...Motion," John said very slowly.

Floyd got up and pushed him to the elevator. "There. Now, please go, this is hurting to watch."

John sighed. "Welp, it was worth a shot." And he stepped onto the elevator. "But if I die out there-- burn my diary."

"Why?" Bruce said. "It's not like there's anything interesting in it."

John gaped at him. "Did you--?"

"And you're going up!" And Floyd moved the lever, and the elevator lifted.

                                                           ~~~ At Viva's Pod~~~

Viva sang as she folded her laundry next to Poppy. "This is super fun, Poppy. You know, back in Put-Put Village, we never did cool jobs like this! Folding laundry! Wow!"

Poppy raised an eyebrow at her and just smiled. "You're welcome to come over and do mine whenever you'd like, sis."

"Oooh, yes!! Sounds like so much fun!!" Viva squealed.

A knock came at the door.

"Come innnnnnn! Door is always open to anyone!!" Viva sang.

Clay stepped inside. "Hey, Viva. Can I-- uhh, talk to you for a second?"

"Hi, Clay! And sure! It's been awhile since I talked to you." Viva continued to sit and fold laundry, making no move to get up. "So, what'd you want to talk about? Sports? Desserts?" She gasped. "How amazing our siblings are?!!"

Poppy grinned and looked at Clay, realizing what he had meant. "Viva," she whispered, "I think he meant he wanted to talk alone with you."

"Huh?" Viva turned to her best friend, who raised his eyebrows expectantly at her. "Oop. Okay, just lemme fold one more sock-- wait, no, two more! Okay, now just let me fold this dress, then I'll be readyyyy...ooh ooh, can I also fold this shirt?! I haven't folded one yet, then I promise I'll be done. Well, I kinda promise...Oh! Look at this! Can I fold this and then talk to you?"

Clay groaned. This was gonna be a while.

                                                               ~~~Somewhere In Pop Village~~~

Branch had just finished with Poppy and his tuxedos about thirty minutes ago, but not really ready to return back to his chaotic brothers, he decided to take a short walk around Pop Village, maybe get a snack somewhere or something.

He thought about the dance and what Floyd had said. Did Poppy actually expect him to ask? She hadn't said anything about him taking her to the dance the entire time she had helped him with his tux.

He wondered that if he didn't ask her in time, then she might go with someone else! Not because she liked that person more or anything, but just because she was too friendly to lie and say someone had already asked her to go when he really hadn't!

Omigosh, were girlfriends always this confusing?!! As long as he lived, he would never be able to understand the female mind.

He sat down to overthink things even more at a hot dog stand's table, not because he wanted a hot dog but just because he wanted a place to sit down.

"Hotdog, mister?" someone asked him.

He didn't look up to see who. "No thank you."

That troll left, and he was finally able to think again...until thirty seconds later when another employee at the shop asked him again if he wanted a hot dog.

He politely refused again without looking up.

That troll left and lastly. a girl came up to him and patted him on the shoulder. 

"Umm, excuse me? Mister?"

He looked up at her, sighing. "I don't want a hotdog, okay?!"

The girl looked confused. "Uhm...okay? I wasn't implying that you did."

"Oh. Oops, sorry, I just..." Branch flushed. The girl looked to be around sixteen, maybe seventeen, and she seemed to be shaken from his outburst. 

Then, she gave a gasp and giggled, then gave a little dance. "Oh my gosh, are you Branch from BroZone?!!" she shrieked.

"Shhh!" That was always his instinct whenever someone recognized him. Last time everyone in the area found out that someone from BroZone was in the area, he almost drowned to death from an ocean of fans. "Yes, I--I am."

"Eeek!" she squealed. "My name is Hazel, can I please have your autograph?!" She ripped an autograph book and a pen from her hair.

"Sure." He gave her a smile which made her blush. And as he took her autograph book, she began to gab like crazy.

"I always listen to every one of your guys' albums, but last week, when you're newest one came out, I wasn't able to get it because my mom said I hadn't done enough of my chores to earn it, but I was all like, 'Mom! I have a job, I can decide what I get to spend my money on!' and my dad said that I shouldn't fall in love with people I haven't even met before and I told him that I wasn't technically in love with any of you, I just really really really adore all of you, though if I was in love with one of you, it'd probably be you, hahahaha, but that's just if, it's not like I'm actually in love with you or want to marry you or anything!!" She was laughing and fangirling like crazy.

Branch just continued to smile at her, something he had learned, ever since rejoining BroZone, was helpful, especially if you weren't really listening and just wanted to pretend like you were, like he was doing now.

Maybe if I ask Poppy in a casual way, that way she knows I'm planning on going with her and I won't have to worry about it after that.

He handed Hazel's autograph book and pen back to her. "There you are. It was really nice to meet you."

Branch was about to get up and leave-- it was obvious this hotdog place was a bad place to try to think-- when Hazel touched his arm.

"Umm. Heheh, can I ask you a really big favor?" Hazel asked softly.

"Uhh, sure?" Branch didn't know what that was supposed to mean.

"Well," Hazel fidgeted with her fingers, "I know this boy who is gonna ask me to the dinner and the dance, and--"

"Gonna?" Branch lifted an eyebrow. "He hasn't asked you yet?"

"No." She shook her head. "But I know he's going to because he's been staring at me all week, and all the kids in my grade are saying he wants to and has this huge crush on me, which would be so cool if he did, no boy has ever liked me before, it's just taken him a while because he's shy. But he's probably going to ask me later today or tomorrow, I know it!" 

"Oh..." Branch wasn't sure how accurate this "grade gossip" was going to be, but for her sake, he hoped it would end well. "What is it you wanted me to do for you?"

"I've never been to a dance before!" Hazel blurted.

"Oh, that's alright."

"I mean, I don't know how to do it! In the slow romantic style." Her face turned red.

Branch's did as well. "Are you--are you asking me to teach you how to dance?"

"Not just that. I've never been out to dinner with anyone either."

"It's just like eating dinner with your family," Branch shrugged. As soon as he said that, he knew it wasn't true. He ate completely different with his brothers than he did near Poppy.

"That's a lie." Hazel wasn't dumb. He admired that.

"So, you want me to teach you to dance...and to take you out to dinner so you can practice eating out?" Branch thought this was a complete waste of time. "Wouldn't that make you less hungry when he actually takes you out?"

"He's always an hour late to everything, so we'd have plenty of time to practice!" Hazel encouraged. "And it doesn't have to be a meal, just a light snack for practice. I also want to practice talking."

"Talking?"

"Yeah. How do you act on the first date? Do you flirt like crazy, or do you stay shy and quiet and just enjoy the time you have?"

Branch did not feel like he was the one to answer these questions. She should've seen him at his first date with Poppy! He was a complete wreck!

"And why are you asking me to do this instead of someone...ya know, closer to you?" he asked.

"Because...you're super cool! Why else?!" She beamed at him.

"Look, Hazel," he sighed. "You seem really sweet."

"Aww, thanks!"

"And sound pretty smart for your age." 

"Thanksssss😊."

"But I have a girlfriend."

"I know."

Whoa. That was unexpected. Not the fact that she knew, everyone knew he and Poppy were dating, but the way she just seemed to push the fact aside.

"Don't you think I'd rather spend the night with my girlfriend instead of--" ooh, that was the wrong approach.

Hazel didn't seem offended, thank goodness. "Of course! It's only the first hour, though. You can dance with her afterward."

"But, I--" Branch had no words. He looked at her, her face pleading, begging her to do this simple simple thing.

What would Poppy think?

She wouldn't care. Honestly. But could he get himself to tell her?

"Okay. Fine. Sure." 

What was he saying?!

"What time and where should I meet you?"

Stop, stop!! This is the biggest mistake of your life! 

"And hour before the dance starts. No, maybe half an hour. Yeah, and how about right here?!" Hazel suggested.

"That's fine."

Oh my gosh, Branch, you are insane.

"Great!!" Hazel jumped on him and gave him a huge hug. "I knew you were as sweet as the fans say you are!" And she skipped away, triumphantly.

Branch stood there, watching her, wondering what in the world had just happened.

Another employee came up to him. "Sir, do you want a hotdog?"

Branch gave a groan.

                                                               ~~~ At Viva's Pod~~~

They were in Viva's closet. Why, Clay had no idea.

"Is this secret enough?" Viva giggled mischeviously.

"What?"

"You said you wanted to talk to me privately."

"Well, yeah, but that doesn't mean it has to be a secret." 

"Oh. Darn it." Viva looked disappointed. 

Clay rolled his eyes. "Viva, I wanted to ask you something very important. So maybe you should calm down and be a little serious for a bit."

Viva laughed. "Oh, Clay. You're cute when you talk like that." She patted his shoulder.

He knew she was joking, and it still annoyed him, but he blushed a bit. "Viva, I'm your best friend."

"I know that." She gave him a cute smile.

Suddenly, it was hard for Clay to continue. He was suddenly sweating a lot. Like, a lot a lot. 

"Well, I uhhhh...as your best friend, I want to make sure that you, you uhm...you don't get into trouble."

"You think I'm gonna get into trouble?" Viva raised an eyebrow.

"No! That's not what I meant!"

Get a hold of yourself, Clay.

"What I meant was, as your friend, I don't want anything dangerous happening to you. So I have decided it is my sacred duty, as your friend, to ask you to--" at the last words he faultered.

"As me toooooooo---?" Viva urged, smiling.

"Ask you...I wanted to ask you..." He took a deep breath. "Viva, I would love it if you went to the dance with me."

There! He had said it!

Viva smile grew bigger. "Aww. Clay...that's so sweet of you. And I would totally love to go with you!!"

"Wait, really?!!" After all of that, Clay hadn't really expected her to say yes. Not truly.

"Of course. You're my best friend. But-- the thing is..." she began to fidget now.

"The thing is what?" Oh no, please don't say something terrible.

"I already said yes to Floyd when he asked me."

Clay stared at her. He probably stared at her for thirty seconds straight. 

And, Viva was sure that, once he was done staring, the whole Pop Village heard him scream, "WHAT?!!!!?!?!??!"

[scarletfantasia]

I decide to watch again Alive (1993) to compare with Society of the Snow.

I discovered their story through a documentary and later with Alive that I liked so much that I read the book and Nando's book. And yes I havent seen again this movie after that. Because the choices they made with the reality and changing the names' deads disturbed me. Knowing the Survivors didnt like it was also a reason I hoped for a new movie and kept a distance with Alive. But I still genuinely thought it wasnt "bad" And I kept a "nostalgic" memory of it.

Well, after Society of the Snow, watching a old documentary and reading again Nando's book...oh dear Alive (1993) is painful to watch.

I could write already an essay about everything that goes wrong...and I am only at the thirtieth minutes.

[poindexters-labratory]

[enbeemagical]

anyways a friend ( @odd-dragon ) sent an Epic the musical which character are you uquiz recently and y'all. I got Antinous

[madrone33]

So I read the first book in the Percy Jackson series ‘The Lightning Thief’ a few months ago, and then I realised there was a musical after randomly coming across ‘The Campfire Song’ in a Greek Mythology song playlist on yt. So I finally listened to 'The Lightning Thief' musical! Yay! And now I have way too much in my head, and now I’m shoving it all onto the internet! Be warned, this isn’t really ordered or even coherent :)

I'm too used to Hamilton and Epic lol, I kept getting surprised when there were time skips between songs. Only 19 songs instead of 40? Skipping or compacting battle scenes? Actual spoken lines most of the time? Wow.

I really like 'Prologue/The Day I Got Expelled', 'Another Terrible Day', Percy's part in 'Their Sign', 'Put You In Your Place', 'The Campfire Song', 'Good Kid', 'Lost!', 'Drive,' 'The Tree on the Hill', 'The Last Day of Summer', 'Bring on the Monsters'. So most of them lol.

Tho my favs 5 are probs 'Prologue/The Day I Got Expelled', 'The Campfire Song', 'Good Kid', 'The Tree on the Hill', 'The Last Day of Summer'.

I love Percy. He's so sassy bitter exasperated done with all this shit XD. I almost like him better than in the book lol.

Also Luke. I actually sympathised with him a lot. Probably because the resigned bitterness all the half-bloods feel about their parents is emphasised a lot more in the songs, at least to me.

Kinda a play by play of my reactions?:

L: The gods are real. Like the Greek gods.

A: Like the ones you learned about but weren't paying attention to.

L, A: Well, they don't pay attention to you, either.

All: Especially if you're their kid.

[… that’s rough buddy]

All: *bitterly carefree* Yeah, the gods are real. And they have kids. And those kids have ISSUES!

[mood]

P: Look! … I didn't wanna be a half-blood.

[Yesss! It’s actually happening omg. Also his VA is amazing]

P: And, honestly, I'd be totally be fine if I could make it to the next grade!

[someone give this kid a hug plz]

P: It wasn't dirty socks or my stepdad. It was danger that I smelled.

[pffft he really just did Gabe like that lmao]

P: *sarcastic* Maybe you don't know what a half-blood is because your life is normal and happy and not constantly in danger-

P: That's when this story should probably start. We were geeking out on ancient Greek at the New York Metropolitan Museum Of Art.

[honestly just impressed they managed to make this long ass title rhyme and fit the beat]

Ch: Anyone? Any student?

[lol, yeah no kid wants to bring attention to themselves like that]

P: My best friend was acting strange, at which he so excelled.

[damn Percy’s kinda savage]

P: Grover, you're a good friend.

G: Awww… *amused pity* Dude. I'm your only friend.

[bro Grover is even more savage!]

All: The day it all went down!

P: I saw something odd in Mrs Dodds’ frown.

All: The day it all got weird.

P: The day I got expelled!

[the sudden switch to just saying ‘yeah shit got weird’ is hilarious]

MD: I have heard much about you, Percy Jackson.

P: *vaguely impressed, dry* Really? That's very dedicated for a substitute.

[lmao]

MD: Kicked out of five schools in six years. One might question your parentage.

P: *mutter, protective* Hey, don't talk about my mom-

MD: *smug* And your father? That's right… You don't know who he is! *starts laughing maniacally*

P: *defensive, wary, demand* What's this about anyway?

[I just love his vocal delivery on those lines. He’s a total mama’s boy, for good reason, Sally’s awesome. But also, yeah, I’d be freaked out too if my teacher isolated my from the group and then started talking this shit]

P: *tentative, freaked out* Um… I didn't know what just had happened. Was that all a creepy, crazy dream? *incredulous, questioning his own sanity* My teacher was a creature, then she vanished in the ether with a demon scream.

P: The day I got- Expelled?!

[oof.]

P: *bitter, hurt, resigned* You think I’m trouble, just like everyone else.

[oof the way his voice is just so resigned, like he’s used to this, which he is. And Chiron, you’re not helping. God, this kid needs competent adults in his life]

S: He warned me that things might be hard if… you were like him.​

P: *sarcastic, harsh, bitter* Was he a screw up too? *tired, shame, resigned* Sorry, mom. If I was only- normal.​

[no Percy that’s not what she means! Don’t call yourself a screw-up :( ]

P: *vacant, pleasant* This is weird. *bland* Oh look, a strange man in a Hawaiian shirt.

Poseidon: *in THE goofiest voice ever* "What belongs to the sea can always return to the sea." It's a seashell.

P: *mild, moving on* … Like I said. Weird.

[HAHAHA]

D: *sarcastic, grimace* Oh, you're alive. I suppose that's good news for you, but it means a lot more paperwork for me. So don't expect me to be happy to see you.

D: *grumble, pissed, sarcastic* Great! You haven't been debriefed. This is way out of my pay grade. Which is saying a lot, 'cause I don't get paid!

[average teacher’s salary smh]

D: *snarl, irritable* Someone find Professor Hay-For-Breath and tell him Peter Johnson is awake, so he better clip-clop over here!

P: *unimpressed* It's Percy Jackson.

D: *can’t care in the least, snaps* Whatever!

D: *throws up hands, done* Does no one watch the orientation film?

D: To tell you the truth? The best thing is to *aggressive table banging* BREAK UP WITH THE GUY!

[I am cackling rn]

D: *loudly and musically complaining about how much his job sucks*

P: *in complete confusion* Mr. Brunner! You’re a horse?! WHAT IS HAPPENING??

P: *bitter, pissed* My mom raised me all on her lonesome. When I would reach out, no one else would be there! *incensed* Well I want my birthday cards and fishing trips! Child support and homework tips!

[Poseidon! Pay 👏 your 👏 child support 👏]

P: *gritted teeth, holding back tears* So- So who is he?

[SOMEONE GIVE HIM A HUG RIGHT NOW-]

L: *dry, bitter jazz hands* Welcome to the dysfunctional family.

[I know Luke’s technically the bad guy, but let’s be real. He’s cool]

C: You're gonna drown, you ain't gonna float!

|

C: Don't mean to boast, don’t mean to brag!

[I adore those high notes on ‘drown’ and ‘don’t’. Actually. Just- all of Clarisse and Annabeth’s high notes and slides are incredible]

[yo, 'Put You In Your Place' kinda sounds like 'Do What you Gotta Do' from Descendants 3. And I love that.]

A: *bright* Go to the boys bathroom!

P: *raised eyebrow* And…?

A: *questioning Percy’s intelligence* Stay there? *the ‘duh’ is implied* It’s your first day. We don’t want you messing this up.

P: *rocks on his heels, mild* Okay. Just stay here. Just stay in the bathroom, and stay out of-

C: *teleports behind him, smug sneer* Trouble? Ha!

C: Maybe the minotaur died from a case of laughing too hard from seeing your stupid face!

[that burn tho]

L: *wry* Offering to the gods. *rolls eyes, sardonic* It's not enough that they're omnipotent and all-powerful, they need to feel appreciated. *raises glass, dry* To the gods.

All: *lacklustre, cynical* To the gods!

P: *curious, cheery* Chiron! Who’s your dad?

Ch: *delicate* Oh! Well. My father is Kronos. *pause* Remember my lecture. He ate his children.

*awkward silence*

L: *winces* … Chiron wins.

*unanimous agreement*

P: Oh, no no no! If I try to sing, it’ll probably cause an avalanche.

[haha get it? ‘Cause Poseidon’s the Earthshaker? Anyone?]

P: *soft* My mum was named Sally. She loved scary movies.

[was. WAS. I’m crying]

P: Did he not want me? Or not want the stress? Too bad he's the worst, and my life is a mess! Oh no… *grins sharply, starts getting into it* I hope he shows even a trace, ‘CAUSE I’VE GOT SOME CHOICE WORDS to throw in his face!

All: *cheer*

[hell yes! Tell him Percy!]

P: *frustrated, bitter* I try, I try to be a good kid! A good kid! *tired, resigned* A good son.

[noooo 😭]

P: *pleading, defensive* I swear, I swear that I'm a good kid! (Scoff) *dismissive, resigned* Yeah, Percy, that's a good one.

[Nooo Percy! You are a good kid!! Stop talking down on yourself like this-]

P: *furious, bitter* And no friends! And no hope! And no mom- *broken* She's taken away.

[whyyyyy]

P: Yeah, I'll do it. Not 'cause my dad needs me - he's been less a dad and more absentee.

[preach Percy!]

P: *triumphant* We're gonna march straight down to the gates of hell!

L: *interjects, nerd emoji* Underworld.

P: *waves off* Close enough.

P: *serious wtf energy* Guys. We just exploded a bus.

A: *casual* Yep.

P: *nah yall don’t get it* That was being attacked by demon triplet math teachers!

A: *unconcerned* Oh yeah.

P: *disbelief, dead eyed* Is the whole trip going to be like this??

G: *vacant, panicking* All our food was in there. All our clothes were in there. All our food was in there!

A: *umm…* Take that bus to Los Angeles.

P: *deadpan* We're not on the bus.

A: *rolls eyes* I know.

G: *blank* To Los Angeles.

P: *sarcastic, incredulous* We blew up the bus.

A: *exasperated* I know!

G: *having a minor breakdown* To Los Angeles.

P: So what are we supposed to do??

A: *shrugs* Wait for another bus?

P: *throws up hands* What if we blow up that one too?!

G: *anxious* It’s not safe to stay out here in the open, when Monsters are trying to eat us alive!

P: *sardonic, exasperated* How do they know where we are, when we don’t even know?

P: *sarcastic* Fantastic, gang. Well, I don’t wanna die in the Garden State!

[Grover talking to the squirrel like Aang talking to Momo is killing me.]

Squirrel: *helpfully* You’re all screwed.

G: *brightly* Thanks, buddy!

S: *cheery* Welcome!

*ominous thunder*

P: *strained* I think the gods are trying to tell me they hate me!

A: *dry* I’m getting that too.

P: *quiet, tense* Hungry monsters on the ground.

A: *soft, scared* Angry gods are in the sky.

G: *despairing* No safe places to be found.

P, A, G: *helpless* Wanna run. Wanna cry.

P: *exhausted, grieving* Can't go back to any home.

A: *anxious* Camp is way too far away.

G: *hopeless* Can't protect my only friends.

P, A, G: No place to go. No place to stay!

[no bbys it’s gonna be ok! Just wait a few more, uhhh, books?]

P, A, G: We're lost in the world, and the world is freaking awful!

[truths]

P, A, G: *wild eyed* Who put the fate of the world in the hands of three unprepared scared half-bloods? It's crazy!

[^ this. Someone get an actual responsible adult on the phone]

A: *fierce, stubborn* But I promise you, I'll never be invisible again! Someone will notice! *quiet, longing* … Me.

[come on. Get these kids someone who loves them already!]

[Grover just being the best optimistic hype man in ‘Drive’]

G: *warm* ‘Cause people are counting on us, and I'm counting on you!

[awww]

P: If you hadn't bought all those dam snacks–

G: Uh, it was the Hoover Dam, and I was hungry!

[that dam joke lmfao]

A: *gives him a Look, once again questioning his intelligence* You're joking, right? In The Odyssey, if you went to sleep in a lotus bed, one night could last one hundred years!

P: *waves Annabeth off* I'm sure that's irrelevant. Um, excuse me miss, how long have you been at this hotel?

B: *cheery* Why, my brother and I arrived just yesterday: May 1st… 1939!

P: *pasted on smile* Uh, we can sleep on the road.

P: *bright* Oh look, a bus to Los Angeles!

A: *sceptical* Are you sure that's a good idea?

P: *reasonable* This one we just won't blow up!

G: Ha!

G: Ask Annabeth, she knows.

[Grover proceeds to tell the whole story himself]

P: *thrown* But- I thought I was the only kid of the Big Three gods.​

G: *ominous, tired* You are now.

G: *grieving, raging* And maybe if I’d been a little bit braver! Maybe if I’d stayed behind to fight! But ‘maybe’ doesn't let me go back and save her… ‘Maybe’ doesn't make it alright.

|

G: *quiet* And it’s there reminding me of all I failed to be…

[crying]

[y’know, Charon being voiced by a woman kinda reminds me of Hades in ‘Ulysses Dies at Dawn’]

Charon: Who has two turntables and three sick heads? Everybody give it up for D.J. Cerberus!

[omg this is so funny for some reason]

Charon: *to Percy* You ain't ever gonna save what matters! *to Grover* You ain't gonna protect your friends! *to Annabeth* You ain't ever gonna be remembered!

[The callbacks are so good!!]

P: *resigned* Seems my good intentions, always crash and burn. *helplessly frustrated* Everything I try to do will fail! Never once will I prevail! Going wrong at every turn…

[the way it’s set to the melody in ‘Good Kid’ is heartbreaking]

Hades: *throws up hands* Oh, come on!

[lol]

P: So this could be the end, but I ain't sad. 'Cause you're the two best friends this screw-up ever had.

[happy crying because he has friends, and sad crying because he’s still calling himself a screw-up]

Ares: I’ll put you in your place!

[like daughter, like father]

P: *firm, eyes blazing* I'm the Son of Poseidon. I never asked to be. But I'm the son of Poseidon! Now face the tide inside me!

[screaming yes Percy kick his ass!!]

P: *quiet* Stay or go. Pick one.

[I just love how he sings that sm]

D: *growl, done with life* Attention, campers. It's the last day of summer. If you intend to make me miserable year-round, please inform us by sundown. Otherwise, the cleaning harpies will eat anyone who remains! Perry Johanssen, this means you.

P: *rolls eyes* It's Percy. Jackson.

D: *snap* Whatever!

A: *bitter, casual* My dad couldn't deal with the monster attacks, and my stepmom couldn't deal with me.

[nooo someone give her a hug]

[the way the music becomes discordant and not quite right, with minor chords and dark piano when Luke pulls Percy aside is such cool foreshadowing]

L: *bitter, dark, disillusioned* My quest was supposed to be the biggest thing in my life. I came back changed. But the rest of camp was exactly the same.

P: *numb realisation* … You’re the Lightning thief.

L: *simple, apologetic* The Oracle warned you. "Betrayed by a friend."

P: *horrified, disbelief, hoarse* … You set me up. *furious, disgust* You were trying to free Kronos! WHY?

L: *strained, earnest* He promised me the power to defeat our parents!

P: *furious, disbelief, bared teeth* Yeah? He's using you! To get back at the gods!

L: *honestly can’t care anymore, running on anxiety and spite* Good.

L: *empty, helplessly raging, hopeless* I’ve been here since I was a kid! I did everything they ever asked, yeah I did. And for what?

[bro why does everyone in this thing need a hug? They’re all just traumatised kids whyyyy]

L: *quiet, desperate, resolved* So I’ll do anything. I don’t care if I hurt anyone.

[the way you can hear in his voice how much he does care, because that’s exactly why he’s doing all this. AHHH-]

L: *bitter, broken, ragged* It doesn't pay to be a good kid. A good kid. A good son.

[screaming, crying, throwing up]

G: *longsuffering* Are we ever gonna once have it easy?

P: *bright* Nope!

P: Don't feel bad 'cause we're usually about to die :D

[ah yes, gallows humour]

S: They’re breaking your heart? Then try to hear it pound!

[I love her VA. She’s beautiful]

C: They'll put us in a box, but we won't be contained!

[yess Clarisse!]

P: 'Cause the sea doesn't like to be restrained!

[he said the thing!]

All: I'll make mistakes, but my own, and it frees me!

[for some reason, I just really love this line]

[that whole last part where they’re all overlapping is godly]

Damn that got long, but uh. That’s... probably all for now. So. Yeah.

[takeru-tenkuuji]

Please do tell us more about your ocs Ikki and Ace bc I too have brainrot about them 👀👀👀 (only if you want to of course) -🟡

anon im so sorry about what im going to subject you and many people to (if they read this (or the attempted version 2 that i tried to recall from memory due to me losing this draft originally, neither of which is advised)

***basically i found this draft lost in god knows where?? its the same but it..sounded more coherent than the other one and i just think itd be silly if i just had both left out there...lol..the only thing updated is that i added an extra doodle. everything else is untouched)

um something something heed suspension of disbelief. like ive warned, this is basically something totally made up in my head to the point that it deviates severely from the work's original intentions and such

but siiiiiiince you aaaaasked (cry) and i am currently sick with the flu so literally sick in the head i will do this until i think oh god, i have to be put down and never come back to the internet because i put my shitty yaoi au in here so in detail

we'll start with adjustments to revice's general plot (lol)

so this is an au where for me, george rly goes for the "make the ultimate kamen rider" guy. his father stays forever an asshole dedicated to finding shit about science, and would only create shit like the weekend to clean up his mess, but not because he feels genuine remorse. this (imo) gives george more reason to continue on hating his dad(?), and thinking he's creating something to surpass him.

george's obsession is created by his father neglecting him in his childhood and leaving him with just kamen rider to watch and play with while he worked. george grows up with a growing vengeance to beat his father at his own game i guess. feeds into a potential narrative parallel with olteca? idk

so george sets his sights on potential candidates: igarashi daiji, and kadota hiromi. both seek some sort of..justice or strength, proving one's worth, (till it all goes horribly wrong via canonical events). and of course, the inheritor of revice, ikki comes into play. george gambles on this.

in this version, they also find that ikki is not just a descendant of giff thanks to his father's genes, but giff's target human vessel. the only reason vail hates vice's guts besides wanting to kill genta's family, because he's protected under giff's will.

giff creates a demon, vice, to inherit all of ikki's memories (at least, the painful ones he doesn't want to remember, but it eventually becomes just, everything lol). vice gets a consciouness, ikki's humanity that wants to protect ikki, but ikki wants to throw away his humanity and becomes an empty kind of guy. vice inherits the desires to be boisterous and selfish, instead of somehow put together and reliable, but instead it makes ikki wonder what the hell he wanted to begin with, and desperately fills in the hole by trying to help people via nosiness, etc. hence the whole volcano form convo i think. idr. LOL

so fast forward to the sorta endish of the season, they destroy giffs body, which is perfect so he can be released from his physical form and move on to vice/ikki. george knows all of this information, and decides it's the perfect setup to test ikki's will to become a kamen rider through the wildest hardship or whatever. so george goes and tells everyone that the igarashis are descendants of giff and spreads fear that even though giff is destroyed, this family exists. shit happens.

of course, happy spa's small but passionate loyal clients try to protect the family and such, but then vice becomes a conduit to transferring giff's consciousness into ikki once he loses all his memories, he transforms into his own demon and starts attacking everyone.

(i tried lol) (sneaking in a new image)

giff has a good hold over ikki till- uh oh. huh. the demon you put all of the human memories is goin a lil crazy. vice, fueled by ikki's memories and intense emotions, alongside giff's uncontrollable power, ends up destroying giff (yay) but takes over ikki's psyche as an absolutely uncontrollable beast.

george, seeing this as a failed experiment, uses his backup plan to be the ultimate kr himself as juuga to defeat ikki, becoming a hero for the public watching and cheering him on. just like kamen rider!

except of course, igarashi family, everyone known through the season, the weekend kids, hiromi try to get through to ikki revisiting their beloved memories with him (gl daiji) while the happy spa friends try to hold back the angry mobs.

ikki begins to regain consciousness and wonder if he really was that kind of guy before

ikki's family is the last to speak to him and of course it's like. fond memories, bad memories, things that they like and hate about him, things that make him him, etc, and give that big ol berserker man a hug.

vice finally speaks up with his piece, revisiting his own individual memories with ikki as his demon, etc.

george is perplexed and livid, but he's not sure why. this would count as a success in his experiment, but not in the way that he thought it would be. the cliches of kr fulfilled(?). and the crowd no longer cheers him on.

ikki regains revice form, no vice because vice has uh. merge merged with him now. fights george, last busybody guy to hit. woooooo ahhh (coughing hacking)

and here comes my oc, post season vice LMFAO. which is just the hbdvd design bc i believe in giving maeda the chance to be just a liddle goth and have a little dangly earring

post canon vice is pretty much a preservation and a box holding ikki's memories, if ikki fights and forgets, he reminds him. but due to inheriting these memories and merging with ikki's messed up post canon soul, he ends up a lot more subdued as ikki no longer gives a shit about being a loud boy and breaking free. he just doesn't want to be alone. LOL (and in caption note, it's preservation vice and destruction ikki ty sorry. ikki in my brain wants to destroy memories, vice preserves them for him) yay. he switches in as easily as kagerou does with daiji, but doesn't like to make much conversation outside.

and FINALLY this is where my other oc (jkjk) ace comes in.

the weird ass movie, revice and geats battle royale whatever, ace uses a desire wish on ikki for him to remember all the battles he's had in place of ikki potentially wishing vice back. (i guess in this au, it'd just be in place of him wishing literally anything better for himself. also vice would absolutely hate that (ace)).

in terms of au material in geats, i believe in evil parents..or more like...morally.....wack ass parents....... like you can't be the goddess of creation that was abused for a silly future man game and not go a little crazy... so to me, the mother that ace seeks is long gone, and when he finds her again before she dies, she tells him they should just fuck up the world (thumbs up) for everything it's done to them. ace is faced with 1) contemplating the human side of him that craved what he believed was family (through keiwa and his sister, the complicated relationship between neon and her family, as well as ikki's) 2) whether he wanted to do anything with his power towards the world because of his mom, what his mom put him through, what the world put them through (hence the tarot card, judgement. the power and the perspective to judge the world?)

i love the ninetailed fox theme sorry so not only is he a white haired anime boy in god form, BUT A FURRY

so in this perspective, ikki and ace represent opposite sides of like..the demon and angel shared blood with human spectrum, and how they go about the world that way. how they see each other is a weird balance that clashes and also completes each other(?)

anyway that's my spiel because im losing brain as we speak and starting to feel the effects of oh god, who the hell is going to read this. if you made it here, im sorry. uhhhhh i love yaoi............

[infernalisa]

rlly fast,,,, , super simple ,,,, kaito in his dorm uniform ;o

[stoned-ratpack]

Genuine thrown to the wind question does anyone out here tonight know where to get a 7ft long body pillow

[abiital]

I'd gone to this school for a few years now, usually taking courses under the God-Blessed. Of course, after hearing nobody speak of the Fifth Tower -- not even the name of it -- curiosity inevitably got the best of me. The way to the Fifth was abandoned -- had been for more than a few hundred years. Cobwebs and vines lined the walls, dispersed magical remnants of years past that drifted in from the other towers lie dormant in the air, gliding subtly around me as I walk. It's cold in this segment of the school, I was already shivering. Everything about this place felt off, not even mentioning the lack of radiance from the tower itself as I got closer. It felt like an hour had passed, and as I looked back, I realized I hadn't moved an inch from the mid-point of the path towards the Fifth. But how? I've been walking all this time, surely I would have moved by then? I started to run, but looking back a few minutes after, I still hadn't moved an inch. I was a little exhausted, so I sat down to take a break. After exerting myself like that, the coldness of the air here felt calming. After a while, though.. It was harder to breathe. I struggled to move. And it just kept getting harder to breathe, harder to move. What's happening to me? What's going on? I could barely manage to stand, before I couldn't move anymore. The air felt thicker, and kept getting thicker. I felt like I was underwater. I took a deep breath, and held it. "This might just be the last breath I get," I thought to myself. "Is this why the Fifth was abandoned?" I thought to myself. "Is this where I die?" I thought to myself.

I held my breath. And held it. And held it. But I never felt the need to exhale, the need for another breath. I still couldn't move, but I wasn't dying, either. Then it hit me.

The Fifth Tower wasn't abandoned for just any old reason, but because The Fifth was something most people couldn't even begin to comprehend. The Fifth was the controlling of time itself, and the Tower was abandoned for the same reason that I've been struggling to reach it. Time is hard to control -- the other Towers say impossible. And so I continued to struggle, and eventually began to move again. I continued to struggle, and I could breathe again. And as I thought more of time as a variable rather than a constant, it became easier. I could see myself approaching the Fifth Tower. An hour or so later, I made it inside. It was hard to see, but the Tower was lined by clocks, cobwebs, vines, and -- man, it was dusty. I checked around the Tower for a while, before the clocks began springing to life. Each clock had a uniquely colored light and speed to it. From the lights, I now saw that the Tower was much taller than the others -- even more so than the Arcanists' Tower, the largest of the traditional four, -- even though the Fifth seemed the smallest on the outside. I was speechless, but I needn't say a thing, nor did the Tower. I understood. I started to return to the Fifth on a daily basis -- much to the displeasure of my now-ex-God-Blesseds, -- and studied the flow of each clock individually. Each clock was a lesson to me, the goal of each lesson was to make the clock move at the standard pace of time to myself. Some would have time speed up, some would have time slow down, and one of them was seemingly functionless -- though I treated it as a lesson on stopping the flow of time. Further up, I can see clocks moving backwards, and clocks snapping forward and backward - but I'm not going to worry about those for now. The Fifth -- or as I call it, the Timekeeper -- acts as my comfort, in a way. It feels like home, and I wouldn't want it any other way.

Unlike most magical schools, this one is made up of five mystical towers that directly teach themselves without the need for professors. Every year, the towers of the God-Blessed, Druids, Arcanists, and Warlocks welcome new students, but even the name of the Fifth Tower was forgotten.

[climbingthefloors]

obsessed with this baby hippo from thailand's khao khew zoo.. she has been so utterly betrayed by the world

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Expertise can't help you here.