#If that makes any sense LOL. I feel like I no longer have an accurate view of a lot of men in my broader social circle because I'm viewed

[thot-writes]

i just posted art of my werewolf tav & astarion so y’know what?? take this fic to go along w it. what would astarion/the gang do if u were a lil werewolf (i did not mean for it to get this long lol)

your vampire not-quite-boyfriend + the gang find out you’re a cheeky little pup (act i post-grove);

Lycanthropy wasn’t something you were born into like some. No, like most others bearing the curse you were infected with it. The transformation process was an excruciating, torturous one that is still branded into your very bones.

The bloodlust festers in you, day and night, like a splinter that’s burrowed too deep for you to dig out. It calls for you to rip, tear, dominate— kill. But you can suppress it. Mostly. You refuse to be one of the many werewolves that is controlled only by their base instincts.

But every full moon the beast blood takes you completely, and you have no choice but to transform. You never remember the night after you’ve turned back. Only brief snippets of red, pain, and fur.

Despite not tracking the stars, you can normally tell when a full moon’s coming because your body begins to ache, preparing itself to split open to birth the savage wolf that slumbers within. Usually you’d start your preparations to restrain yourself, to limit the carnage as much as possible.

But these aren’t usual times.

Three weeks ago you were captured from your home by mind flayers and infected with a tadpole, your entire world turned inside out with stranger things happening every day.

You now travel with a Sharran, a githyanki, two ticking time-bombs, a warlock, and a vampire.

One of their spawn, at least. It’s a good thing that in Faerûn, vampires and lycanthropes tend to be neutral towards each other — unlike what the romance novels would have you believe. Otherwise it’d make the regular sex you’re having with Astarion quite awkward.

You’d think that knowing all the sordid details about your travelling companions would bid you to confess your lycanthropy, but you could never find a way to bring it up.

Or, more accurately, you could bring it up you just didn’t want to. Not necessarily out of trauma, just convenience on your part. Confessing lycanthropy normally comes with questions, and the way you were turned is… kind of embarrassing, so you’re never keen to retell it.

But tonight, the moon will tell everyone for you. if you don’t get out in time.

The whole day your blood hammered in your flesh, your head splitting apart in a horrific headache and your bones feeling as if they could break and reshape at any moment. You lied to your companions, insisted you must’ve just drank too much last night at camp, and they bought it. Kind of. You hope.

You retired early for the day and whilst the others lounge about the camp you’re near biting your fingers off in uneasy anticipation of what’s to come. You need an excuse— any excuse to get the fuck out of here before the moon fully rises. You think you have an hour at most before you’re no longer you.

“My, but you’ve been looking ill all day, [Name]. I don’t recall you drinking that much last night.”

You almost jump out of your skin. Your heightened senses of smell and hearing usually help in preventing unpleasant surprises, but not today, not when you’re so on-edge. It was Astarion’s lilted voice that called from behind you. A sweet tune you’re all-too-happy to hear, in regular circumstances.

He gazes at you with that hard-to-read gleam in his eyes. The kind of gleam where you’re not sure if it’s because he knows something, is hiding something, or wants to tease you. You manage a shaky smile in response.

“You weren’t with me the whole night, Astarion. We slept separately,” you attempt.

“That night anyway,” he adds with a pretty little grin on his lips. You notice his gaze flickering over your body. “So you’re saying after I drank from you, you… what? Went back to your tent for some late-night binge drinking? Not that I’m surprised, you seem the type, but even still. Your hangover looks particularly… aggressive.”

You throw your hands up in an exaggerated shrug. “What, are you gonna throw an intervention for me? Gonna beat me up? Write me a letter about how much my drinking affects you?”

He chuckles. “Oh please, as if I care that much. I’m just saying that you seem a little sicker than alcohol would leave you.” He gasps, then presses a hand to his face. “What if you were poisoned? By someone in this very camp? How scandalous! My money’s on the gith.”

“If I was poisoned my money’s on you bitch.”

A grin. He always seems to smile so much in your presence. You wonder how much is real. You wonder if you’re overthinking it, or if you smile just as much as he does.

You’re ripped away from your thoughts as a terrible pain grips you. It takes all your strength not to double over right there— you’ve already drawn too much scrutiny, you don’t want more. You squeeze your eyes shut and hold your trembling hands still as the curse makes itself known. The pain you experience in transforming is what you’d imagine childbirth to be — if you gave birth to a baby out of every pore. You’ve only had this curse a scant few years, how have people managed to live entire lives with it?

Astarion notices your struggle. He tilts his head and looks on. “You really do seem like you’ve been poisoned. Or at least I hope that’s all it is. If you’re sick then I’m afraid you’ll be sleeping alone for a while longer yet, pup. I don’t want… whatever that is.”

You grit your teeth to prevent a cry. “I’m fi—iine!” you grunt. The pain lapses for a moment, this is your chance to leave. “I just— I have—uhh— really bad diarrhoea!”

“What?”

You make a show of holding your stomach and slouching. “Oh man it’s soooo bad right now, I’m probably gonna be shitting up a storm in the forest all night!”

“Gods above, please… spare me the details. Just go.” Astarion waves you off and grimaces at the mental image you’ve conjured for him.

“Okay, I better go have violent diarrhoea everywhere in the forest now— don’t follow me! Don’t look for me! Don’t let anyone look for me! I gotta go, goodnight! Don’t look for me!”

You give him no time to answer as you sprint into the wilderness. Your heart is hammering and your pulse quickening. You feel you only have a few more minutes until…

A scream escapes you before you can stop it, your skin is starting to bulge and split, revealing [colour] fur beneath it. No— not now, you’re still too close to camp— just hold on a little longer.

You gather all the strength you have, which is more than usual with the wolf so near, and run.

-

You’re deep in the wild now. Your screams are more frequent, your body produces sickening crunching sounds as the wolf starts its escape. You collapse to the forest floor, writhing in abject agony as your body tears itself apart. Transforming like this only ever takes a few minutes, but it always feels so infinitely long.

Soon your cries morph into a pained howl, and the birthing process is complete. Your mind has now been banished to the darkest recesses of you, and in its place is a beast.

It’s a blur each time you’re turned like this. When it’s of your own volition the process is simpler, quicker— though no less painful. You can maintain control if you focus hard enough. But the forced transformations are a different experience entirely. There is no control, only hunger. Only fangs, claws, and a deep, insatiable yearning for prey.

Astarion did as you asked. He didn’t search for you, not even when he heard that first scream. The thought of walking in on you… projectile excreting was enough of a deterrent to stay his curiosity.

But hours have passed since then. He couldn’t hear you, there was only quiet. When Gale asked where you were, he simply said you had taken ill. But now Astarion was the only one left awake, and there was still no sign of you.

You had been acting off all day. He didn’t believe it was simply a hangover, he’d seen many in his lifetime but they never caused anyone to disappear into the woods. As far as he knew.

But then… what was this odd subtle tightness settling in his chest? The thought that maybe something had happened to you, and you were no longer safe?

Could it possibly be that he was… worried about you?

He shakes his head. No, of course not. You’re nothing more than a target, a meat shield for if and when things go wrong. He didn’t have any feelings towards you, and certainly not enough to worry.

Astarion stays awake. Not for you, of course— perish the thought— he just wanted to get more reading done. Obviously.

Another hour passes.

Then one more.

Still nothing.

He’s coursing with anxious energy now and gets to his feet. What if you’d been turned into a mindflayer? What would that mean for the rest of them? Because of course it was his own well-being he was concerned for— definitely not yours!

He goes to the tent nearest to him, Lae’zel’s, and shakes her awake.

She grunts and sits up. “Chk, what is it Astarion? Why have you disturbed me?”

“[Name] still hasn’t returned, and dawn’s almost here,” he answers. His voice is a little shaky, but it’s probably because he’s a bit cold. “We should try to find them.”

Lae’zel nods curtly and begins to rise. She slings her sword over her back and says to Astarion, “Wake the others. If [Name] has become ghaik, we will need to put them down.”

A knot forms in his stomach as he turns to rouse the others. He finds himself hoping you haven’t been transformed— then quickly catches himself and buries the feeling.

He wakes them and explains the situation, and the group splits off into pairs to search for you; Wyll and Karlach, Shadowheart and Gale, Lae’zel and Astarion.

One would think someone with your supposed illness would be leaving… traces. But there’s nothing. It was almost like you’d just vanished— until Karlach had found your clothes. There was no blood on them, no damage, no filth (at least no more than usual).

The search continues.

Dawn isn’t far. Just a little longer.

As Astarion and Lae’zel scout together, he catches a whiff of blood in the distance. Animal blood, certainly. But it seems like… a lot. He notifies Lae’zel and they follow the scent, only to come across a mauled boar carcass. It’s practically been reduced to a puddle with how much carnage was heaved upon it, and what’s more…

There’s massive paw prints in the dirt. Soaked in the blood of the boar. Could this creature have hunted you? Is that why you never returned?

They alert the others and follow the tracks, along the way finding great claw marks in the trunks of the trees, various piles of viscera from unfortunate beasts, and small patches of fur. Fur the exact same colour as your hair…

The tracks lead to a small clearing in the forest, and in the middle of said clearing is… you.

Well, not you-you, but the hunkering direwolf-humanoid you turned into.

You’re crouched down, curled into a ball as your mind rends itself in twain. As dawn approaches, so too do your senses begin to return, but the wolf is not ready to relinquish control — it never is. The two of you battle for dominance in a silent struggle, ignorant to the group surrounding you from the trees.

Your werewolf self is a grotesque, fearsome thing, even as you’re lurching in pain. Your fur is an exact match of your natural hair colour, as are your eyes, even though in this form they’re clouded in rage and hunger. If you were stood upright, they’d see how you reached just over nine feet tall, how your hands and paws were lined with razor-sharp claws. Even as pathetic as you are in your current state, you’re still no creature to be trifled with.

Shadowheart steels herself as Lae’zel raises her sword high, prepared to strike you while you’re distracted.

“Abomination,” she spits, venom heavy on her tongue. “Lurk in these woods no longer, you die by my hand.”

She brings the blade down in a wide crescent motion, and you barely move out of the way in time. She’s managed to cut you, but you’re lucky to have missed the brunt of the attack.

You leap away from Lae’zel only to move into Karlach’s range of attack. She strikes you with her battleaxe and you roar as it slices into the skin of your back. Your wound quickly heals, and you spin around to swing a clawed hand in her direction. Your fist meets her side, and she’s flung feet away.

The group— your group— begins their surprisingly well-orchestrated assault, and it becomes clear that, as strong as you are, you cannot hold out for long. Not against all of them. Probably not even against half of them.

But the gods sometimes grant small mercies. The sun finally breaks, the Dawnlord’s radiance has weakened the wolf’s chokehold on you, and you stumble backwards. Your body begins to rapidly decay and break apart, and the others step back and watch the spectacle cautiously.

In less than a minute, the vicious wolf you were has become naught but gore, and underneath is your naked body, soaked in blood.

“What the fuck— [Name]?! I’m not seeing things am I? Tell me I’m not seeing things!” Karlach exclaims, suddenly overcome with guilt at having tried to kill you.

Gale watches in resignation as you limp, holding your beaten and broken body. “You’re not. That’s our [Name], alright. A lycanthrope... What a shock.” Because of course the group can’t have one normal person, can it?

Astarion is simultaneously the most and least surprised at this revelation. “So you’re telling me this entire time I’ve been sleeping with a werewolf? Ugh, there’s a joke about giving a dog a bone in there somewhere, but I’m too tired to think of it.”

You collapse, exhaustion claiming your mind after a long, blood-filled night.

-

When you awake a couple hours later, you find you’re tucked in your bedroll, wounds tended to and dressed once again. How did you get here, you wonder? You leave your tent to find your friends waiting around in a circle by the long-dead fire.

Astarion’s the first to notice you. “Ah, darling, you’re finally awake! I don’t suppose you’d be up for a little chat, would you? I believe we’re owed an explanation.”

You freeze. An explanation for what? Did they find you and take you back here? Do they know what you are?

You don’t have to wait long for an answer.

“After everything we’ve been through, travelling together these last few weeks, I’d have thought we developed enough trust between us. But apparently not.” Gale pauses, then looks you in the eyes. “Why did you hide what you are from us?”

“This fuckin’ world is so fucked up,” you say, folding your arms and scrunching your face. “We got two people with bombs in their chests and a guy who drinks blood but because I turn into a rabid dog once a month I’m the bad guy, really?”

“We’re not saying you’re a bad guy, we’re wondering why you didn’t trust us!” Karlach protests. “We’re supposed to be friends aren’t we?”

You frown a little and slump your shoulders. “We are friends. But we’re already dealing with sooo much bullshit I just thought it’d be better if I dealt with it myself, y’know. I mean it’s not like you can help me with it anyway, cures are hard to find and lycanthropy isn’t as bad as tadpoles and orbs and devils.”

“I’m fine with your condition [Name], so long as you don’t transform in front of me, that is,” Shadowheart chimes. “But aside from that… that wolf form seemed quite formidable. Perhaps we can make use of it, now that we know.”

Astarion claps his hands excitedly. “Oh yes! I’d love to see that! Werewolves can be quite vicious you know, always good fun to see the hounds on a hunt.”

Shadowheart turns to him. “You’re not mad that your lover’s a werewolf, Astarion? I’d have thought you’d be more upset, as a vampire and all.”

He rests a hand on his hip and half heartedly inspects his nails. “Oh please, werewolves and vampires are just as likely to be allies as they are to be enemies. Cazador has had so many wolf pets over the years, I suppose it was only a matter of time until I got my own.”

“You’ve got it ass-backwards Astarion, if anything you’re my pet vampire,” you tease.

“How dare you! Here I thought puppies were supposed to be cute and obedient,” he cries in mock offence.

“Says the one who gets on all fours for a dog—”

Gale clears his throat loudly and claps his hands. “Ahem! Alright, now that that’s settled, I hope there won’t be anymore surprise revelations about the members of our group. Gods know we have more than enough of them to last a lifetime. Shall we get on? We have a long day ahead.”

It’s of a great relief to you that they didn’t ask too many questions, though you somehow suspect you’ll be telling them the humiliating story of your infection someday soon. In such a short time, you’ve grown fond of your new friends, and even fonder for a certain vampire…

And you’re sure you have a long, long road ahead of you yet.

[inaconstantstateofchange]

I come to you on my hands and knees (relevant to the topic right lol) begging for any and all info on Bane, Banites and how it all ties in with Gortash. I love you in advance. <3

Bane and His Cult

Alright, so after twelve and a half hours of research I still don’t fully feel like I have enough, but at a certain point I just need to get this out there, and if there is anything you – or anyone else – would like to see explored in more detail, please feel free to ask! 

Note: I love getting asks like this! There is such a vast quantity of Realmslore that having some sort of specific focus for my deep-dives is a huge help, and knowing the topic is of interest to others is a huge motivator. I also greatly enjoy getting to put my training as a historian to work, as there is so much to interpret and archive alike. 

As ever, these writeups will align with current 5e lore, and draw from 3.5e for additional supporting information. On rarer occasions – and always noted – I will reference 1e and 2e, but with the caveats that there is much more in those editions that is tonally dissonant with the modern conception of the Forgotten Realms, and thus generally less applicable.

We’ll begin with one of the most recent conclusive descriptions of Bane, from the 5e Sword Coast Adventurer’s Guide, an overview of the current world-state of, well, the Sword Coast: 

Bane has a simple ethos: the strong have not just the right but the duty to to rule over the weak. A tyrant who is able to seize power must do so, for not only does the tyrant benefit, but so do those under the tyrant’s rule. When a ruler succumbs to decadence, corruption, or decrepitude, a stronger and more suitable ruler will rise.  Bane is vilified in many legends. Throughout history, those who favor him have committed dark deeds in his name, but most people don’t worship Bane out of malice. Bane represents ambition and control, and those who have the former but lack the latter pray to him to give them strength. It is said that Bane favors those who exhibit drive and courage, and that he aids those who seek to become conquerors, carving kingdoms from the wilderness, and bringing order to the lawless.¹

This gives us the briefest summation of what draws people to the Cult of Bane: the desire for power and control, often deriving from a sense that they lack exactly those two things. Bane is the quintessential deity of lawful evil, which – if you’ve read any of my previous posts on the sociology of the Nine Hells – bears a striking similarity to Baator itself, the realm of lawful evil, and the place where Enver Gortash spent at least a portion of his formative years. 

The majority of the following excerpts derive from 3e, which went into far more detail on the specificities of the Faerûnian gods, including their dogmas, holy days, et cetera. One important point to note, however: any discussions of Bane’s scope of power are no longer accurate, as the time period in reference is about one hundred and twenty years before Baldur’s Gate 3 is set, at a time when Bane had just returned to life – and godhood – as nothing less than a greater god. By comparison, during Baldur’s Gate 3, he is a quasi-deity, having abandoned most of his previous godly power in exchange for the ability to directly meddle with Faerûn – forbidden to the gods by the overgod Ao – and gambling that he would be able to regain his lost power and prestige in so doing.²

The dogma of Bane – that is, the core tenets and philosophies that his followers seek to emulate – is as follows: 

Serve no one but Bane. Fear him always and make others fear him even more than you do. The Black Hand always strikes down those that stand against it in the end. Defy Bane and die — or in death find loyalty to him, for he shall compel it. Submit to the word of Bane as uttered by his ranking clergy, since true power can only be gained through service to him. Spread the dark fear of Bane. It is the doom of those who do not follow him to let power slip through their hands. Those who cross the Black Hand meet their dooms earlier and more harshly than those who worship other deities.³

Even were there nothing else to go off of, this would tell us a great deal about the group dynamics of any followers of Bane, whether established church or fragmented cult. Just as in the Hells, hierarchy is everything to proponents of lawful evil. Any cult of Bane would have a strict order to its power structure, and there would be limited – practically nonexistent – tolerance for any questioning or insubordination of that order. To the minds of Banites, such is simply the natural and superior ordering of the world. These interactions are detailed below: 

Within the church, the church hierarchy resolves internal disputes through cold and decisive thoughts, not rash and uncontrolled behavior. Bane’s clerics and worshipers try to assume positions of power in every realm so that they can turn the world over to Bane. They work subtly and patiently to divide the forces of their enemies and elevate themselves and the church’s allies over all others, although they do not fear swift and decisive violent action to help achieve their aims.³ 

The manner of tyranny that Bane holds to is similarly calculated – he is not interested in mere shows of force, but rather in insidious plots that twist and make use of existing rule of law to legitimize tyranny wherever possible. A social tide operated ostensibly within the laws of the land is far more troublesome to fight back against than a simple army.⁴ 

As far as specific ritual and day-to-day workings of the cult, some can be evidenced here, in broad strokes: 

Bane’s clerics pray for spells at midnight. They have no calendar-based holidays, and rituals are held whenever a senior cleric declares it time. Rites of Bane consist of drumming, chanting, doomful singing, and the sacrifice of intelligent beings, who are humiliated, tortured, and made to show fear before their death by flogging, slashing, or crushing.³ 

In this sense, rituals seem most likely to be used as a display of power and a test of subservience, leaving lower-ranked members of the cult at the whims of their superiors, expected – as noted previously – to attend to their commands with the same alacrity they would use were Bane himself to speak. The rites themselves are designed to reinforce and glorify the primary aspects of their god’s domain: the tyranny of forcing submission and pain from the weak. 

Faiths & Pantheons, published a year after the Campaign Setting supplement, provides a similar description of the rituals of the cult of Bane, along with some intriguing and flavorful additions (noted in bold for ease of comparison): 

Their religion recognizes no official holidays, though servants give thanks to the Black Hand before and after major battles or before a particularly important act of subterfuge. Senior clerics often declare holy days at a moment's notice, usually claiming to act upon divine inspiration granted to them in dreams. Rites include drumming, chanting, and the sacrifice of intelligent beings, usually upon an altar of black basalt or obsidian.”⁴

As, in the “present day” of Baldur’s Gate 3, Bane has lost much of his foothold on power and his Faith’s old domains, the specifics of architecture of Banite keeps are no longer quite so relevant. However, in times past, when his Faith worked far more openly and held much greater power, the philosophy of Bane was expressed through the architecture of his churches and strongholds: 

Tall, sharp-cornered stone structures featuring towers adorned with large spikes and thin windows, most Banite churches suggest the architecture of fortified keeps or small castles. Thin interior passageways lead from an austere foyer to barrackslike common chambers for the lay clergy, each sparsely decorated with tapestries depicting the symbols of Bane or inscribed with embroidered passages from important religious texts.⁴

The social capital of a Faith – a broad term used to encapsulate all followers of a single deity – is often heavily intertwined with the power of its god, a mutualistic relationship that runs in both directions. More social weight behind the Faith means its god’s name and will is conveyed to more people, some or many of whom might apportion some worship or act in alignment with that god and empower them by so doing. More power for the god means more divine actions that can bolster their own image and the reach of their clergy. At its height in the late 1300s, the Faith of Bane was one of the most prominent and powerful, with comparable might to that of a small kingdom.⁵

Something that is important to bear in mind in a setting such as the Forgotten Realms, not only polytheistic, but an environment where the gods being worshiped are demonstrably existent, is that the followers of evil gods are not likely to be obtrusive with the less savory aspects of their dogma. Not only would that, in the majority of cases, do more harm than good to their deity’s long term goals, in the words of Elminster: 

A dead foe is just that: dead, and soon to be replaced by another. An influenced foe, on the other hand, is well on the way to becoming an ally, increasing the sway of the deity.⁶

All of this aligns with what we see of the Cult of Bane and its operation in Baldur’s Gate 3. While it does not have the same sway and might behind it as it did a hundred years before, through manipulation of law and carefully applied pressure – of whatever form most likely to yield the desired results, be it threats, bribery, blackmail, or use of hostages – Gortash has enacted a steel web of delicate, ensnaring tyranny across the entire city. 

We can even find present-day expressions of the interactions of the cult members, and find that they hold true to what their forebears experienced, further proof of the consistency of lawful evil. A personal note found on the body of a dead Banite guard at the Steel Watch Foundry calls the Black Gauntlet in charge of the Foundry Lab, Hahns Rives, a “disgrace to the Tyrant Lord”, and notes the writer’s intent to “compile a list of Rives’ shortcomings for the Overseers.”⁷ These shortcomings include: 

1. Rives failed to reprimand Polandulus for making jokes about Lord Gortash! 2. Rives missed the morning mass to Bane - twice! 3. Rives didn't punish Gondian Ofran when she missed her gyronetics quota merely because she'd lost a finger that day in the punch press.⁷

We can see evidenced here the constant scheming for position and recognition consistent with this manner of lawful evil hierarchy. Both devils and Banites orient their day-to-day lives around how to prove themselves to their superiors, while also undercutting them at any chance they have to prove their own superiority, with hopes of being raised above them. 

This is only reinforced further by another text found within the Steel Watch Foundry, Bane’s Book of Admonitions. Its text is not written out for us, but described as such:

A book of adages and precepts for Banites, providing the basic tenets of worship of the Lord of Tyranny, with suggested prayers for common situations. The heart of the book is Bane's Twelve Admonitions, a dozen rules for proper Banite conduct, with punishments specified for failure to comply. The book opens easily to a page with two of Bane's most popular admonitions, number six, the Reprimand for Leniency, and number seven, the Rebuke for False Compassion.⁸

The most likely scenario is that this book was used by the “Overseers” referenced by the anonymous Banite writing of Rives above. The exact position of the Overseers is not made clear, but from context and knowledge of Banite hierarchy, we can infer that they inhabit a place in the hierarchy above both the guard and Rives himself, and that their role is to ensure all those below them uphold the tenets of Bane at all times, never losing sight of his will. 

In that context, it makes sense that they would both have a book of specific punishments for specific infractions – rule of law, after all – and that, given the attempted report on Rives, punishments (“admonitions”) for the crimes of leniency and false compassion – and all compassion is false when your conception of the world does not allow for its existence – would be those most referenced. It would be incredibly important to the unity of the cult, as well as to Gortash’s plans, to harshly punish any observed leniency or break from Bane’s law among members of the cult.

Not only would failure to control the situation at the Foundry potentially spell failure for the schemes of Bane’s Chosen, any unpunished step out of line by members of the cult would be seen as tempting others to do the same, a trickle of dissent quickly becoming a flood. Better to ensure that all adherents live in merited fear of the consequence of failure. 

After all, it is said of Bane himself: “He has no tolerance of failure and seldom thinks twice about submitting even a loyal servant to rigorous tortures to ensure complete obedience to his demanding, regimented doctrine.”⁴

And, in an appropriately lawful hierarchy, the same rule must apply from the bottom, to the top.

¹ Sword Coast Adventurer’s Guide. 2014. p. 26.

² Descent into Avernus. 2019. p. 231

³ Forgotten Realms Campaign Setting 3E. 2001. pp. 237-8

⁴ Faiths & Pantheons. 2002. pp. 15-16.

⁵ Forgotten Realms Campaign Setting 3E. 2001. p. 93

⁶ Ed Greenwood Presents: Elminster’s Guide to the Forgotten Realms. 2012. pp. 135-6.

⁷ Rives’ Failures as a Banite. Baldur’s Gate 3. In-Game Text.

⁸ Bane’s Book of Admonitions. Baldur’s Gate 3. In-Game Text.

[egg-emperor]

Eggman had statues of muscular male bodies on the Egg Carrier for no reason. He's one hundred percent sexually attracted to men.

Maybe this is me looking too deep into it but since the statues didn't have any faces, that's probably a sign of something. As in Eggman only shows interest in someone's physical form/abilities because he doesn't care about anyone as a person.

All that matters to Eggman is his own pleasure and if he gets something out of it. Whether it's taking over the world or getting off. It tracks that this would also apply to how he expresses himself sexually.

I imagine Eggman could only be attracted to people in a purely physical sense. He doesn't care about who or what they are. He only cares about how well they can perform.

There's a reason why Eggman only goes after powerful monster men and never wastes any time on like average dudes who can't fight or destroy things. For example, Eggman gets super excited about Chaos and Dark Gaia but gives zero shits about people like Professor Pickle or G.U.N. Soldiers lmao. Eggman also has a very strong passion for bothering Zavok lol.

Basically Eggman is only interested in using people to entertain himself or as tools to achieve something. The thoughts and feelings of the "partner" are irrelevant to him. That's what I think at least.

YESYESYES you fucking get me. It makes me really happy that I'm not the only one who gets it XD

There's no heterosexual explanation for Eggman having those muscular male torso statues in interesting poses, and at HOT Shelter too. The more you try to think of reasons and explanations for why he had them, the gayer it becomes and I love that lol. With that alone there's more proof of an interest in the male form

And yeah the statues being faceless not only proves they're not meant to be some inaccurate depiction of his body, as he's made plenty of statues modelled after himself or defaced others with his visage and it's always with his actual face and/or accurate body- the choice could possibly speak of his character too

It would make sense because it's what's most believable for his character. I can only picture it only bring about the physicality and personal benefits. He has no regard for anyone else as a person. Like all situations and contexts, people are either a tool for his self benefit or obstacle in his way to destroy

There's nothing to suggest that there an exception for this romantically/intimately as it's never something they've depicted and I'm glad. It's much more believable for him to be aromantic/not interested in anyone that isn't himself on a deeper level that isn't simply a pursuit of pleasure and self benefit

Therefore, it would make sense for him to not see and treat them as people with free will or even as faces, just as bodies for his use. Both in terms of business in how useful their abilities are to him in his schemes, or pleasure in a sexual context- and I think more often than not there would be an overlap of the two

That's another reason why him being attracted to male bodies makes sense in particular, it covers all he prioritizes most. The power, strength, and usefulness both in terms of scheming and intimacy. Not to suggest that I don't think females aren't capable of being strong, he's the sexist one canonically XD

People want to imagine there are sudden exceptions to his self-centeredness with family or intimate partners but the former is disproven by canon with all family members + Sage and the latter doesn't have anything canon at all to suggest so. What is canon is that it's always about what's in it for him

I believe it's impossible for him to be attracted to someone in any other form than the physicality of the pleasure and benefit of power. There's never romantic or emotional attraction in it. It's about using them for their worth in pleasure or business until they're no longer useful. It's shallow and self absorbed

His tastes for powerful monsters in the games really speaks for itself. They're simply the perfect combination of both of his most probable tastes, they cover the full scope of his interests and the benefits in both business and pleasure. It makes sense that they're a consistent fixation of his

Especially Zavok, as he's built like the Hot Shelter statues AND he's a monstrous guy with strength that benefitted him for as long as he was under his control. It's no surprise that he's seemingly obsessed with him and even acknowledges that he's always chasing after him. He knows he struck gold with him XD

I can see him engaging with those much physically weaker like common G.U.N soldiers or Professor Pickle but in those cases it would be purely for the domination and power over them, while also getting quick satisfaction. But it's much more likely to be fleeting in most cases as a result of less long term use to him

No relations last as a result, whether it's because he uses them up for all they're worth and drops them, or they want to leave due to his toxicity. But with the latter like Zavok, he'll try to chase after and force them back if they're still useful, to the point he acknowledges Zavok is "always running from him" lol

When it comes to sex for Eggman, I can see his mindset always being "I take what I want for my success or satisfaction" or "I dominate and prove myself superior and enjoy the power" and nothing else. Either way, there's selfish gain and satisfaction in it for him every time as it's where his true interest and enthusiasm lies

It's what drives and motivates him in every aspect of life, no exceptions. He doesn't care about their personal feelings and desires, he takes what he wants and prioritizes what benefits him and that's all that matters. He doesn't see them as people, only as tools for success and/or toys for satisfaction

Luckily for me, I'm specifically into that and would love nothing more than a life of devotion to him with my life's purpose being to serve all of his desires and needs. So I'd know exactly what I'm getting into and it would be one of the specific appeals in the first place for me and would never have any complaints 🥰💜💘

[beeismessingaround]

★・・・・・・★

☆Hi! So i wanna post a little about my mha DR because im really hyperfixated on it rn😭

So here it goes Ig if you have any questions feel free to ask Im more than willing to respond

★・・・・・・★

MHA DR ♡

Name:Bianca

Nicknames:Bee,Bia

Age:15

Height:5'4

Pronouns;She/they

Nationality:Portuguese

Appearence

I don't have a faceclaim but I used AI to try and mimick what I kinda look like

Also if u see me using any pics where the hair is longer it still makes sense because I spontaneously change mine anyways

★・・・・・・★

Quirk ⭐️

Quirk Description: it's called celestial control and I can basically control the moon and the sun , and based on the time of day, as in if its day or night I have different abilities

Day; I have energy manipulation, energy absorption, light manipulation, manipulation of the light spectrum, pyrokinesis and I can change light into physical matter

Night; I can manipulate shadows and dreams, I can create illusions,manipulate gravity, I can teleport between shadows, I can control blood (which doesnt have to be in people's bodies) and have other vampirism attributes, I can also manipulate the stars and their light into weapons and blasts

Drawback; Guys I haven't thought of one yet HELP 😭😭😭

Also during solar eclipses something diff happens but I'll probably make a whole other post about that

★・・・・・・★

Hero Suit !

So I don't have like an official hero suit but just so you guys understand the vibe of the suit which isn't really a suit anyways

Now this does have some practical functionalities I haven't thought of which ones but it does also it isnt a dress in like the picture it has pants I promise

Backstory :D

My backstory is not as intriguing as half of the people here it's so cringy but like idk

My parents weren't exactly common folk in this case my mother was a pro-hero called storm (yes same powers but not that storm) and my dad was out of the picture. From an early age, I exhibited an affinity for the sun and moon.

As a child, my quirk manifested unexpectedly. One sunny afternoon, while I was playing in the backyard, I reached out to touch a sunflower.And to my surprise, the flower caught on fire. My mother and my grandma who were both there there at the time were both amazed and concerned.

But mother dearest being a pro here handled it pretty well I would say, later on during my younger years I jst kept discovering I could do stuff it's like every day I would wake up and it's like wow I didnt know I could do that

Neat Ig

Anyways I had a pretty chill childhood I'll say, but I did know shoto and Momo and Iida before coming to UA cuz rich people know rich people.

★・・・・・・★

Relationships <3

So my S/O is Bakugo but my dear people I have a DR that is practically the same as this one but my S/O is Shigaraki cuz he's my favourite character, I jst didn't know how to make him my S/O in this one and I love my Angry Pomeranian man aswell so, anyways if u see me calling Shigaraki my S/O its jst different DRs

Anyways he's so silly lol

Name:Katsuki Bakugo

Age:15

Height:6'1

Love language:Quality time and physical touch

(his definition of quality time is training until my bones are mush ☹️☹️☹️)

Confession:Angrily blurting it out in an argument...Guys I'm a sucker for this

10/10 accurate representation of our relationship

I'll probably make a separate post with scenarios I've scripted in my DR lol

★・・・・・・★

☆Now for the friendships !!

So my friendgroup is mostly the bakusquad, I've been a mha fan since 2019 so yes bakusquad is forever in my memories

But if you don't know here is the bakusquad members

☆Bakugo - S/O

☆Kirishima - He's honestly my like best guy friend here

☆Mina - I Love her SM my bestie <333

☆Sero - He's the mom friend I appreciate him

☆Denki - I'm so excited to jst do dumb shit with him

Yeah those are all my best friends emphasises on Mina tho

Out of the bakusquad I scripted 2 of my CR friends in

☆Bea - Either keeps me from doing dumbshit or does it with me i love her, I made her s/o todoroki cuz Im nice

☆Mari - Childhood friend I've known her for 9 years now I think,most loyal hoe on the planet, obsessed with mickey mouse,just that should let you know she needs no s/o

And I'm also rll good friends with Jirou, Hagakure and Tsuyu I'm clearly a girl's girl

I dont have a bad relantionship with anyone in class cuz I scripted mineta out #self-care

This is the seating and dorm arrangements btw and i will take no criticism for them😙

I FORGOT TO PUT AOYAMA IN THIS ONE BTW

There are the dorms which were also meticulously crafted to however the fuck I wanted them ☺️

★・・・・・・★

Anyways I think that's all I have to say for now ask any questions if u have them and yh sorry for any spelling errors english is not my first language

-Bee⭐️

[shadowoffandoms]

-emerges bloodied and bruised-

hi gravity falls fans I spent three hours translating the code from the contract, I became literally almost fluent in cipher. This is from this btw!

heads up translation might not be totally accurate, especially in one section. I was up until 1 AM doing this lol. Translation below cut!

You are now twenty one grams lighter

This contract is legal and binding. We reserve the right to use your likeness, face. voice and smell town place in whatever nefarious manner is deemed necessary. sans soul, your soulmate will not recognize you and will walk right past you on a cold autumn day, never making eye contact not even processing that you have eyes at all. No amount of interaction will move them to a place where they can remember, in feeling, the thousands of lifetimes you have already spent together, each time choosing whatever form would keep you closest like otters holding hands in a tumultuous river. You were birds, you were trees with roots entangled, drinking in the sunlight together. Wherever we go next, wherever you choose, I will always be right there with you. Thats done, buddy. Congratulations . you have chosen Bill instead. McDonalds reserves the right to put a giant yellow m on your torso and forehead and send you walking through a crowded times square while you scream “the fries, the fries, they don’t degrade in nature!!! It’s an immortal food!!! They will be in the landfills long past our deaths!! Good god! The things we've seen”- me? Who am I? Oh I’m Bill’s previous lawyer. He put my soul into a quill pen so I can write dis legal documents until the sun snuffs out like a candle in this sick universe. I used to be so hot. I was so fine. Now I’m fine print. Speaking of which, Bill reserves the right to put your soul into an inanimate object, a strange creature, a concept, a sentence, a tasteful but rustic mason jar with wildflowers in it. If at any point you wish to have visitations rights with your soul, you will be swiftly denied. Unless you had a cool day planned for the both of you, Then Bill might want to come along. By signing this document you forfeit any rights to eating soul food. It will turn to ash in your mouth. A fitting punishment for a fool who squandered the only true gift life owes you. Bill reserves the right to dress your soul however he deems necessary. Especially if your soul was a nerd before acquisition. Soulmakeoverrr! Your soul may become fractured and placed into different objects. This has no purpose and will not resurrect you if you die. Signee cas forfeited all rights to any afterlife, including but not limited to, heaven, hell, purgatory, big corner, flow state, the dream house, the reincarnation processing center, axolotl’s tank and consequences hole. Signee can no longer board the soul train and is advised to discard all bellbuttons. Signee can no longer have a puppy as a best friend, they can sense what is gone, cats are indifferent. Signee may experience occasional demon possessions from Horculus the Red, Plabos the Merciless, Borbos son of Bortem, Plaga the Ooaing and other such common demons roaming Earth searching for weakened, empty vessels. Tips for ripping your soul out at home: watching youtube commentary channels, attending an extended family event with an open bar, using generative AI and asserting that you're the creative, turning a blind eye to human suffering, amassing more wealth than needed, purchasing a blue checkmark.

[sakura-chandaneko]

Spoilers for the book of bill website :3

I don’t know if anyone has wasted their time doing it yet but I decoded the entirety of the fine print section of Bill Ciphers soul contract, its certainly something lol

This contract is legal and binding. we reserve the right to use your likeness, face, voice and small town pluck in whatever nefarious manner is deemed necessary. Sans(? I’ve checked this so many times cause it is def wrong T^T) soul, your soul mate will not recognize you and will walk right past you on a cold autumn day. Never making eye contact, not even processing that you have eyes at all. No amount of interaction will move them to a place where they can remember. In feeling, the thousands of lifetimes you have already spent together, each time choosing whatever form would keep you closest like otters holding hands in a tumultuous river. You were birds, you were trees with roots entangled, drinking in the sunlight together.. wherever we go next, whatever you choose, I will always be right there with you.. thats done, buddy, congratulations, you have chosen bill instead. McDonalds reserves the right to put a giant yellow M on your torso and forehead and send you walking through a crowded times Square while you scream "the fries! the fries! they don't degrade in nature!!! it's an immortal food!!! they will be in the landfills long past our deaths!" good god, the things I've seen. me? who am i? Oh i'm bill's previous lawyer. He put my soul into a quill pen so I can write his legal documents until the sun sniffs out like a candle in this sick universe. I used to be hot. I was so fine. Now I'm fine print. Speaking of which, bill reserves the right to put your soul into an inanimate object, a strange creature, a concept, a sentence, a tasteful but rustic mason jar with wildflowers in it. If at any point you wish to have visitation rights ditch(?) your soul. You will be swiftly denied, unless you had a cool day planned for the both of you. Then bill might want to come along. By signing this document you forfeit any rights to eating soup food, it will turn to ash in your mouth. A fitting punishment for a fool who squandered the only true gift life owes you. Bill reserves the right to dress your soul however he deems necessary, especially if your soul was a nerd before acquirement. Soulmakeoverrr! Your soul may become fractured and placed into different objects. This has no purpose and will not resurrect you if you die. Signee has forfeited all rights to any afterlife. Including but not limited to, heaven, hell, purgatory, big corner, flow state, the dream house, the reincarnation processing center, axolotl's tank and consequences hole. signee can no longer board the soul train and is advised to discard all bellbottoms. Signee can no longer have a puppy as a best friend. they can sense what is gone, cats are indifferent. signee may experience occasional demon possessions from horculs the red, plabos the merciless, morbus son of mortem, plaga the oozing and other such common demons earth searching for weakened, empty vessels, tips for ripping your soul out at home, watching YouTube commentary channels, attending an extended family event with an open bar, using generative ai asserting that you are creative, turning a blind eye to human suffering, amassing more wealth than needed, purchasing a blue checkmark

Most of the punctuation I guessed so this may not be the most accurate. As for the words with a question marks after it’s bc I was unsure if I decoded it correctly.

[icarusignite]

Hey! I don't know if this is the proper format (still kind of new here) but I'm sending in this prompt for an Alfred × Reader fic. There's this idea for him that was stuck in my head a couple months ago. So…

It's set either S2 or S3 but it fits better in S3 or the break between 2 and 3. Alfred is really ill which isn't unusual for him, but this time he's taking a lot longer for him to heal and he's deteriorating more seriously than he normally would.

People in court start looking around for new healers and remedies. Alfred is also kind of desperate because he doesn't want to die before England is complete or Edward is ready to take over.

Reader, who is a healer, comes to court with the intention of helping Alfred. She's neither Dane nor Saxon, if you're comfortable with it she could be of Asian or African origin/descent (eg Father Benedict in S5). She's either Muslim or Christian, either way she's well read and a bit of a scholar (if you've seen Vikings: Valhalla S2, there's a female character that might ring a bell). She's also able to reassure him, like Iseult, that she's treating him with nature's bounty and nothing sinister.

Because she's a scholar (also maybe a Christian), Alfred is comfortable that she's not practicing witchcraft so this helps him accept her more easily. It also helps them bond and they become really close friends over the course of the months she spends treating him. They have fun banter and he's able to feel like Alfred, the man around her instead of King Alfred. Then he realizes that he has feelings for her.

At this point it could go any way really. Does Aelswith factor into it much or not? Does reader reciprocate his feelings or not? If she does, would she be comfortable giving into them and being a mistress? Is Aelswith even in the picture or is this a slight AU? Do they have a sad, happy or bittersweet ending? Idk

For extra spice, Reader could also be good friends with Uhtred or Finan which makes Alfred a little jealous but also sad because he thinks that she'd probably prefer the charming, handsome, potentially single, strapping man to whatever measly affection he could offer her.

Ideally, it would be fluff or smut but whatever you're comfortable writing is fine! Sorry if this is too long but I wanted to be as clear as possible 😅. I also understand if this is too much for a oneshot and you forego the idea entirely

Alfred the great x POC! Fem! Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

A/N: Heyy, so sorry this took literally eons to finally write. Thank you for your lovely request and also thank u for your patience <3 Hope you enjoy what I've done with your idea, and dw this will have another part where I'll explore their chemistry more. I watched a bunch of Alfred edits to get in the mood and ngl I'm lowkey in love with him now lmfao. 

Disclaimer: there might be some (a lot) historical discrepancies because I didn't line up the dates exactly but I did find out that the Golden Age of Islam overlapped significantly with the dates that the last kingdom spans so the reader is a prominent scholar from Baghdad. Also, Aelswith is dead (I'm sorry T_T) cuz I don't love a cheating trope even when it is sort of historically accurate. So we have single dad Alfred lol. 

The only heaven I'll be sent to is when I'm alone with you

Entering King Alfred's throne room, your senses were immediately awakened by the unfamiliar sights, sounds, and scents of Wessex. The room itself was a stark contrast to the opulent palaces and grand courts of Baghdad that you were accustomed to. The room was spacious, yet its decoration was surprisingly humble and simple, adorned with rough-hewn wooden beams and modest tapestries that depicted various scenes of English myths and prominent events. With a flash of triumph, you found that you recognized some of them from your studies of the English culture. A faint scent of burning wood from the hearth permeated the air with an earthy aroma.

You observed the nobles in attendance, or the ealdormen as they were called here, their attire markedly different from the splendid silks and jewels of Baghdad's court. Here, the people wore simpler garments made of sturdy wool and linen, in the dark colours of the earth as opposed to the the vibrant clothing the people of your home favoured.

Your gaze then turned to the throne itself. It was a robust wooden chair, its design austere yet imposing, lacking the grandeur of the magnificent thrones you had imagined English kings liked to occupy. King Alfred's regal figure atop the throne created a dignified presence. His clothing, matched the style of his ealdormen, long simple robes of a dull grey. The seat next to him was empty and you briefly wondered about his family. The chronicles you had read stated that a king's wife usually took her place beside him when he held court, but you did not know much of Alfred's wife.

Your fingers itched for your writing instruments, yearning to document all your observations and the happenings of the court. You seldom went anywhere without them, but now they remained tucked away in your satchel as you waited for the king to acknowledge your presence. You knew he had seen you enter, his eyes briefly meeting yours, even as he conversed with his ealdormen. Eventually, your thoughts began to wander and you couldn't help but reflect on the stark contrast between the scorching heat of Baghdad and the chilly bite of autumn in Wessex. your flowing linen tunic and trousers, so comfortable in the sweltering desert of your homeland, felt inadequate against the cold English air that seeped through the cracks in the stone walls.

You discreetly rubbed your tingling fingertips together, trying to generate some warmth, as the fire blazing at the hearth did little to banish the chill that had settled in your bones. Your longing for the warmth of the caliphate's sun was keenly felt in this unfamiliar and frigid environment.

Impatience welled up within you as you glanced around the chamber, noting the courtiers' stoic expressions and hushed conversations. The king's deliberations seemed to stretch on endlessly, and you found yourself yearning for the moment when you could finally present your credentials and seek the audience you had travelled so far to obtain.

King Alfred's voice finally called out your name, his voice echoing through the chamber.

"Esteemed lady, I welcome you to the court of Wessex."

The ealdormen, accustomed to the formalities of their court, were taken aback when you did not bow or curtsy as was expected. Instead, you offered a polite smile and tipped your head in a gesture of respect.

A murmur of surprise and disapproval rippled through the assembled courtiers. Some whispered that your behaviour was disrespectful, a breach of protocol. They exchanged curious glances, wondering how their king would react to this departure from tradition.

However, King Alfred took no offence. With a gracious nod, he signalled for you to speak.

"Thank you, your grace. It is an honour to be here."

Your accent was soft, lending your words a foreign intonation, and each syllable was carefully enunciated. You had spent months learning the language, and you weren't about to embarrass yourself now by messing up your pronunciation.

"I extend my deepest gratitude to you for undertaking such a long and arduous journey at my request. I hope the discomfort of the voyage did not prove too taxing."

"Your Majesty," you replied, "it was a journey of great honour for me, and I hope to make myself useful here."

King Alfred nodded appreciatively and then turned to a servant standing nearby.

"Please, ensure that the lady is provided with comfortable quarters and all the amenities she may require during your stay in Wessex."

The servant bowed in acknowledgment and stepped forward to escort you to your residence within the royal palace. You thanked the king once more for his hospitality and assistance before following the servant out of the chamber.

As you left the throne room, your observant nature couldn't help but take note of King Alfred's condition. Despite his attempt to appear at ease in his chair, you had perceived the subtle signs of discomfort. His favouring of his left side, indicating pain or injury to his right, and the unusually pallid complexion for an Englishman raised concerns in your scholarly mind. That was your purpose, after all, to try to diagnose and hopefully cure the ailing monarch.

Just when you were gone, the noblemen of King Alfred's court wasted no time in flocking around him, their curiosity piqued by the arrival of the enigmatic woman. They bombarded the king with questions and voiced their concerns about the unfamiliar customs you had displayed.

One nobleman, his voice dripping with skepticism, remarked, "Your Majesty, did you see that? She didn't bow or curtsy as she should have! It's as if she has no respect for you."

Another, eyeing your unusual attire and complexion, chimed in, "And her clothing, Your Grace! It's unlike anything I've ever seen in Wessex. She's clearly not from anywhere near England. What could she possibly want here?"

The murmurs of disapproval and suspicion spread among the courtiers, as they exchanged perplexed glances. To them, your arrival was an anomaly, and your behaviour had raised eyebrows and questions.

King Alfred, his countenance calm and measured, raised a hand to quell the growing unease.

"I understand your concerns, but there is nothing to worry about" he began, addressing their concerns. "The lady you have just met is a prominent figure from Baghdad. She has travelled from a distant land to be here and she is not here to defy our traditions or customs. She is a scholar seeking to further her studies in Wessex. Her journey to our land is a great honour, as it reflects the recognition of the importance of our own intellectual pursuits."

His tone left no room for further skepticism. He also did not mention the other reason you were there, as he did not wish to reveal the truth of his declining health. As the nobles filtered out of the room, somewhat still unsatisfied by his answer, Alfred couldn't help but remain still, his mind going over the recent developments. When he had first written to the Abbasid Caliphate to request that he be allowed to host a medical scholar at his court, he had to admit he was not expecting a woman, and certainly not one so beautiful.

The next day, Alfred summoned you to his private chambers for a consultation regarding his health. As you entered the room, he couldn't help but notice the change in your attire. Gone was the flowing linen tunic and trousers, replaced by a sturdier, more practical woollen English dress. The deep blue gauzy veil, however, was still draped around your head and flowed down your back.

The English clothing seemed to complement you, accentuating your elegance in a way that was both unexpected and captivating. The king, not for the first time, found himself admiring you, though he kept such thoughts to himself, mindful of the formal context of your meeting.

You, ever the professional scholar, maintained a polite and formal distance as you began your examination of the king. You inquired about his symptoms, listening attentively to his description of the pain and discomfort he had been experiencing. Your deep knowledge and keen medical insight were evident as you asked probing questions and conducted a thorough assessment.

After a careful evaluation, you began to discuss your observations and your initial diagnosis with the king. You explained your thoughts on the potential causes of his discomfort and suggested a course of treatment. King Alfred was grateful for your expertise, and couldn't help but be struck by your intellect. He had a thirst for knowledge himself and he appreciated the quality in others when he saw it. In you he recognized a passion for learning and documentation, one he held himself as well. After the medical examination, he extended an invitation to you to remain in his chambers and share a cup of tea. Initially hesitant, you eventually agreed, recognizing the value of the opportunity to engage in conversation with the English monarch.

Seated in the warmth of the chamber, Alfred began to share with you the rich history of England, its struggles, its triumphs, and its cultural tapestry. He spoke of the challenges of the Anglo-Saxon period, the battles against the Danes, and the enduring spirit of the English people. As he narrated the history of his land, Alfred couldn't help but notice how your eyes lit up with a deep fascination, even though you attempted to contain your enthusiasm. Your questions flowed naturally as you probed deeper into the history and culture of Wessex. You asked about the Anglo-Saxon kings, the legends and folklore, and the development of the English language.

You kept diligent notes in your little notebook, your hand swiftly capturing every detail of the conversation. Your keen intellect and insatiable thirst for knowledge were evident, and your genuine interest in Alfred's words warmed his heart. It had been quite a while since anyone had paid such rapt attention to what he was saying, and he found himself rejuvenated by your exchange.

As a lull settled over your conversation, Alfred's curiosity got the better of him. With a twinkle in his eye, he leaned forward and said, "My lady, I must admit, I'm quite curious about the contents of that notebook of yours. What sort of information have you been documenting to take back to your homeland?"

You smiled, your demeanour more relaxed than when you had first come in, "Your Majesty, you need not worry. I promise you, I haven't written that the English are fire-breathing trolls."

Alfred felt a grin tug at his lips, but he suppressed the urge, keeping his hands folded placidly over his stomach.

"Well, you know, if we English could breathe fire, we might have an easier time dealing with our enemies!"

"There is a trick that performers back home use, to give the illusion of breathing fire. The science behind it is quite fascinating. Perhaps I shall explain it to you sometime."

"Ah yes my lady, you have filled your book with our tales, but have yet to share yours. Do you have any secrets from the East that you'd like to share with us humble English folk?"

You couldn't help but smirk at his words, "I'm afraid some secrets are best left in the lands where they belong, your grace. We wouldn't want you to start brewing Persian tea incorrectly, now would we?"

"I doubt it can compete with our tried and trusted English tea."

"You only think that way because you haven't tried Persian tea yet. Trust me, once you have, there's no going back."

"I suppose you make a fair point! Although, I must admit, the thought of trying to decipher the intricacies of Arabic calligraphy is rather tempting."

You paused, your light-hearted nature urging you to make another joke but you strictly reminded yourself that you were in the presence of a king. It would do you no good to offend him with an ill-timed statement. You were already apprehensive about your earlier comment about the Persian tea, although you were grateful that he chose not to see it as a slight. As if sensing your hesitation, Alfred sat up in bed and leaned forward.

"You are free to speak my lady, do not hold yourself back on my account," he reassured with a wave of his hand.

Still, you settled for a polite smile, "I was just going to remark on the difficulty of calligraphy but I am certain that if anyone would be able to master it, it'd be you, Your Majesty."

A small furrow appeared between Alfred's brows as if that wasn't the answer he expected from you. He could see you pulling away, going back to your polite, almost cold professionalism. Eventually, he nodded thoughtfully at you.

"I would be ever so grateful if you could perhaps show me the technique someday, my lady."

You breathed a sigh of relief and nodded with a small smile.

"Now, about that notebook, if you would allow me to take a look?"

"Ah yes, of course," you handed over the small leatherbound journal to him quickly without further complaints. "But I must warn you, my handwriting isn't at its most legible."

Alfred accepted the notebook with a nod of appreciation. As he leafed through its pages, his eyes quickly fell upon your meticulously written notes. Your thoughts were inscribed in your native language and although he did not understand the words, your elegant looping script impressed him.

He raised an eyebrow and turned toward you expectantly, pointing toward a specific passage, "And what does this say right here?"

"It is a description of the English weather, your grace."

Alfred leaned closer, his finger tracing the inked lines on the page.

"Ah yes, English weather. It was raining when you first arrived, wasn't it? What do you think of our English rain then, my lady? I've heard it has a certain charm."

"Well, I believe your rain can be quite persuasive. It insists that one should stay indoors and read a good book."

Alfred's lips twitched again, fighting back a smile. It seemed that the new scholar shared his interests as well.

"A wise perspective, indeed. Perhaps our English rain is simply encouraging a literary lifestyle."

"Yes, your grace."

"My lady" he continued, a note of genuine admiration in his voice, "I must tell you, your handwriting is truly exquisite. Tell me, just how many languages have you learned."

You felt a blush creep into your cheeks at his compliment. There was something sincere in his eyes as he waited for your answer, looking at you like your accomplishments were the greatest thing in the world. You opened your mouth to respond but then a loud knock sounded on the door and a priest entered.

"Yes, Father Beocca," Alfred seemed irritated at the interruption.

Father Beocca's eyes glanced from you to the king, and despite the fact that you were sitting in a chair quite some distance away from him, you felt a strange flash of awkward embarrassment run through you.

"My king, Uhtred is here to see you," the priest finally stated.

Alfred sighed and turned toward you with an apologetic smile, "Shall we continue our conversation another time then, my lady? It seems that I am needed elsewhere."

"Yes, of course, your grace."

You quickly took your leave then, choosing to take one of your books and go read in the garden. You had just settled yourself into a comfortable nook when loud boisterous laughter caught your attention. Turning your gaze towards the source of the commotion, you spotted three men, two of whom were dressed in the attire of warriors. Their boisterous behaviour was evident as they playfully teased and shoved the third man, who was clad in robes that resembled those of Father Beocca. However, a leather breastplate adorned his monk's attire, hinting at a surprising duality of roles – priest and fighter.

The two warriors were engaged in a lively exchange with the monk, their laughter echoing through the garden. You couldn't help but smile as you watched the scene unfold. Their camaraderie and jesting reminded you of the Caliph's sons back home, when your father would take you to visit the palace.

One of the warriors, a bearded man with broad shoulders and a hearty laugh, clapped the monk on the back.

"Come now, Osferth," he said between chuckles, "surely your devotion to the Lord could use a bit of levity now and then."

The monk, Osferth, grinned in response, "Aye Finan, it is said that laughter is the best medicine, is it not?"

The other warrior, a lean and quick-witted fellow, joined in with a jest, "Well, if that's the case, Osferth, then Finan here will live to be a hundred and you shall die tomorrow!"

Osferth elbowed the tall man in the ribs, "Not before I knock some sense into you Sihtric."

Their jovial banter and good-natured teasing continued, creating a lively atmosphere in the serene garden. You couldn't help but be amused by their antics and the familiarity of their interactions, watching them for quite some time.

The trio of men eventually noticed your presence, and with their laughter dying down, they made their way over to you. As they approached, their expressions revealed a mixture of curiosity and surprise.

The broad-shouldered warrior, Finan, whose eyes twinkled with mischief, was the first to speak. "Well, what have we here?" he said with a grin. "A traveller from foreign shores, I presume?"

"Yes, I am from Baghdad, my lord."

The warrior, clearly taken with you, couldn't resist a flirtatious remark.

"Lady, I must say, you are a wondrous addition to our English garden."

You snorted at his attempt at flirtation.

Meanwhile, the monk with the leather breastplate maintained a more respectful demeanour.

"Greetings, lady, I am Osferth," he said with a nod. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. May I ask what brings you to our humble Wessex?"

You found the monk's polite curiosity quite refreshing.

"Greetings to you too, Osferth. I've come to further my studies here. Wessex has much to offer in terms of knowledge and history, and I hope to make the most of it."

"Well, my lady, if ever you wish to explore our English shores, I'd be delighted to be your guide," it was Finan who spoke again and you could not help but laugh at his words.

"Thank you, kind sir. Your offer is most gracious."

“Call me Finan, my lady.”

Your change continued as they asked more about you and your hometown and you asked about theirs. You found out that they were a band of warriors who followed some fellow named Uhtred, the very same Uhtred who was currently speaking to King Alfred. As the conversation flowed, you discovered that you enjoyed speaking with these men. Their witty banter and friendly demeanour made you feel at ease, despite the foreignness of your surroundings. You shared stories of your travels, your scholarly pursuits, and the cultural nuances of your homeland. The men, in turn, regaled you with tales of their own adventures.

As you continued to engage in playful banter with the warriors, you remained oblivious to the presence of King Alfred and Uhtred, who had ventured outside and were observing the lively exchange.

Eventually, with a confident stride, Uhtred made his way toward your group to make his introduction and Father Beocca approached the king with his concerns.

"Your Majesty," he began cautiously, "I must admit, I have reservations about entrusting your treatment to a foreigner, especially one from so distant a land. We must be cautious of witchcraft and unfamiliar practices."

King Alfred turned to Father Beocca, his expression thoughtful but resolute, "Father Beocca, I understand your concerns, but the lady is no ordinary foreigner. She hails from Baghdad, a city known for its innovative medical advancements and a center of learning in the Islamic world. She comes as one of their finest scholars, sent by the Caliph himself."

"I see, your grace."

"I have read extensively about the great Islamic civilization, and its contributions to science, medicine, and philosophy. I believe we have much to learn from her, not only about medicine but also about fostering understanding and collaboration between our cultures. They have succeeded in uniting several lands under one caliphate, so perhaps we might learn how we may unite England as well."

Father Beocca, though still cautious, nodded in understanding, "Your Majesty, I trust your judgment. It is my fervent hope that the lady's presence here will indeed lead to beneficial knowledge and that she will uphold the values of wisdom and compassion."

"Thank you, Father Beocca. Let us have faith in this unique opportunity for cultural exchange and enlightenment. Her presence is a bridge between worlds, and I believe it is a path toward a brighter future for Wessex."

Over the course of the next few months, you became familiar with the routines of the Wessex palace. King Alfred allowed you to shadow him throughout his day, believing that you could provide valuable insights into his own activities. It was a decision that would lead to a profound connection between the two of you.

Every day, you diligently prepared poultices and medications for the king’s ailments, and often you’d recite the recipe to him and explain the purpose of each herb and plant that went into it. He found that he trusted you completely but he was still comforted by your transparency and the efforts you took to explain things to him. Sometimes he would insist on accompanying you on walks and you would point out the various native English plants and their counterparts back home. You also documented the king's activities and observations in your notebook. At times, he would request to see your notebook, often just to admire the beauty of your script. He marvelled at the graceful lines of your writing, and the intricate calligraphy that adorned the pages.

Your interactions went beyond the formalities of your initial meeting. King Alfred, always eager to learn, would occasionally ask you to translate certain passages from your native language and over time, your bond grew stronger. King Alfred began to look forward to each day, eager to see your bright and colourful veil, a striking contrast to your plain English gowns. He would wonder which hue you would choose, and it became a delightful anticipation in his daily routine.

Your conversations transcended the realm of duty and scholarly pursuits. The two of you shared your favourite books, discussing the nuances of various works and debating the merits of different translations. Your insights challenged Alfred's own understanding, and he cherished these moments of intellectual stimulation.

As the days turned into weeks and then months, Alfred realized that you had become an important fixture in his life. your presence was a source of inspiration, a reminder of the power of knowledge, and a testament to the potential for understanding and collaboration between different cultures.

He found himself thinking of you when he was apart from you, reminiscing about how your eyes would dance with mirth as you argued with him about the inaccuracies of translated works, or how your laughter would fill the palace corridors. You had not only enriched his pursuit of knowledge but had also touched his heart, becoming a cherished friend and confidante in the process.

Alfred could still vividly recall the way you had looked at him with genuine wonder and appreciation when he had shown you his humble library. He knew that compared to the great libraries of Alexandria and Baghdad, his collection was modest, but you had delighted in it all the same. Your eyes, filled with curiosity and admiration, had swept over the numerous scrolls and manuscripts, taking in the wealth of knowledge contained within those walls.

In that moment, as you softly murmured your thanks, Alfred felt his breath catch. He was struck not only by the beauty of your physical presence but also by the grace with which you carried yourself and the genuine enthusiasm you displayed for learning. Your voice had a melodic quality that lingered in his memory. It was a voice that seemed to breathe life into the ancient texts that surrounded you and the king found himself quite enamoured with you. The two of you spent many a late night pouring over scrolls together, and although he always kept a respectful distance, Alfred found himself wanting to brush away the stray strands of hair that fell across your forehead, having escaped the tightly bound coil you usually kept your hair in.

Tonight was one such night as the dim light of the candle burned low, and after a lively discussion on herbal medicine, you had fallen asleep on one of the ancient manuscripts. Alfred, his mind still buzzing with the echoes of your conversation, fought against the pull of sleep. Instead, he watched you slumber, his heart filled with a mixture of admiration and tenderness.

In the soft candlelight of the library, you appeared even more enchanting. Your thick eyelashes brushed against your cheeks as you slept peacefully, your features serene. Your form rose and fell with each gentle breath, a rhythmic reminder of the tranquil cadence of sleep. Alfred couldn't help but be captivated by your beauty in this unburdened state. The play of shadows and light highlighted the delicate contours of your face, and the soft glow of the manuscripts around you lent an almost ethereal quality to the scene. You looked like a vision from a dream.

As he watched your slumber, a sudden, unexpected urge welled up within him. He was struck by the temptation to lean in and kiss you, but he quickly banished the traitorous thought. What an absurd thing for a king to do, to force his affections on a guest in his home. Especially when he had no way of knowing if you returned his feelings. He would have to content himself with the simple act of watching you sleep, his heart filled with a deep and unspoken longing.

He also found himself wondering if you were betrothed, for you couldn’t possibly be married and still be here. What man would not accompany you or let you out of his sight if you were his wife? Although you had discussed many things, you did not stray close to personal topics such as family. You were only a few years younger than him and surely you had to have someone in your life. And even if you didn’t, what could you possibly want with an ailing man like him when a woman as accomplished as you could have anyone in the world?

Such melancholy things plagued him as he eventually drifted asleep on the table across from you, his final thoughts fixating on what it might feel like to have your lips against his. 

[shepherds-of-haven]

Do you ever go back through your story just randomly changing things that you didn't like or didn't really fit in with the story at time?

Oh, absolutely! I consider the entire alpha build a first draft, so I definitely go back and change things as I see fit (recently taking out fairmath is a good example, but I also quietly go back and heavily edit/rewrite/revamp scenes between characters all the time); I also think that, as the years of development have gone on, some worldbuilding facts or lore or spoilers about future plot threads I've mentioned no longer apply to the game in its current state (I recently changed the whole calendar system so that a month is 63 days instead of 42, for example; or I'll read an old post about a character's thoughts on marriage and think 'oh that's definitely not right anymore'; or something of the sort). So if you read any obscure lore posts prior to, like, 2020 on this blog, they have maybe a 50% of being completely accurate, haha. There was even a point where I said that Norms have gold-tinted skin that kind of glints in the light (not like the vampires in Twilight, thank you), which I have since once again mentally retracted, lol. So no one should take things I said in the past as 100% gospel, is my point!

More than going back through what I've already written and changing things, though, I tend to heavily change things from my planned/outlined version as I'm writing it, not after. In my outline version of ShoH, Mimir was supposed to show up in Lavinet's chapter as an advocate for the Elementals, and Chapter 7 involved getting trapped in a small farming community in a snowstorm and, um, somehow Wintry would have been recruited as a companion or something (I don't really remember) but I definitely know the Changelings and Thurl weren't involved. By the time I got to Chapter 6, though, I threw those plans right out because they just didn't feel right and just sort of improvised as I went along! I tend to do that much more than most would expect (since I don't really spoil you guys on where the plot's going, you wouldn't know my original plans and how much the current iteration is different from them lol), so it's less noticeable than if I were to go back and change the material I've already made public to you, if that makes any sense.

But I do definitely still do that, and I mentally retract, redact, or rewrite things about the Blest world or its characters in my head all that time, primarily because those details no longer fit or I'm not as big of a supporter of them as I may have been in the past! Hope that all makes sense!

[itsclydebitches]

We can agree that the tonal dissonance is the worst part yes because why did they come out of that good ass smoke confront yourself scene with Ruby making a hilarious meme face at us 😭 can they decide if they want serious or slapstick or at least make said slapstick feel more cruel/surreal, like go for a tone where the characters are suffering but the inherently ridiculous world is constantly fucking with them. I feel like that'd land better than 'hehe Weiss is going grrr and making anime bubbles! Ignore Ruby having a panic attack! This is irrelevant!'

Thanks for responding to the other thing as politely as you did and I hope it didn't come off as a personal attack. You do seem nice and you make a good point I just kind of feel bad for you slogging through this show you hate KSHSKSHS

Nah don't worry about it, anon. Idk how to really explain it, but for me a "bad" show isn't necessarily a "slog" show. I like waking up Saturday morning to watch RWBY, knowing I'll get to write a recap later, engage with other fans throughout the week, etc. It could feel overwhelming at times given the previous one day pace I had set, but not a slog (no matter how much it might sound that way in recaps because, as established, there's A Lot of problems to cover that obviously color my tone). But the moment this project actually becomes an uninspiring slog I'd just... drop it? I mean, no offense to anyone here who likes keeping up with these posts, but I'm not a Content Creator℠ in the sense of this being a job. Tumblr doesn't pay me lol. Whenever/if ever it's no longer enjoyable, it's no longer something I'll do. Simple as that.

Anyway, YEAH. Tone. I had the same sort of, "Wait, huh?" reaction to Ruby's exaggerated panic over losing the Cat (complete with more stylized, manga-esque animation cues) immediately after she's reminded that Salem is two steps away from destroying the whole world and they have no plan to stop her. It's truly jarring. You know what I was thinking about the other day though? How although it's obviously weird, frustrating, and sometimes dangerous, Ever After should also be beautiful. Creative. Inspiring. An astounding, impossible experience! We got a little bit of that with Ruby walking through the garden, but leaning into the girls' amazement could be a good way of lightening the otherwise dark Volume. I mean, they haven't just landed in a fairy tale, but a beloved childhood classic complete with favorite characters, gorgeous scenery, unlimited magic where before they've only seen bits in combat... Do you have any idea how fucking STOKED I would be if I suddenly found myself in Narnia? The Shire? Hogwarts? Or yeah, Wonderland? Even if I knew that there was danger here and even if I had something traumatically important to get back to in the real world, there would still be a part of myself simply giddy at the prospect of exploring my favorite story. If Blake spent more time gushing over meeting her favorite characters, if Weiss stood in awe at the architecture, if Yang was Ooo-ing over the cool creatures here, if Ruby took a breather to look at sentient toys and go, "That's awesome" we could add a lot of lightheartedness without interrupting the primary tone. Right now, the girls' attitude is primarily "Wow, this world is the worst" rather than "Wow, this world is a wonderland." And true, that is (mostly) accurate to Alice's experiences, but it's not helping me enjoy the setting when the girls so clearly hate being there.

[starchilddante]

On one of my posts about being ace, @crossthread had a question about what I said (no hate, I promise <3) so I thought I'd make a little separate post about it since it requires a bit of a longer explanation than I'm willing to put in a comment lol

Also it's just good to talk about in general!

In the aforementioned post, I talked about how being told "try sex, you might like it" doesn't have anything to do with being ace. To answer the question asked, being ace (I am fully asexual, but there is a spectrum) simply means you do not experience sexual attraction. It's not that sex is necessarily unpleasant or off-putting (tho some ace people feel sex-repulsed) or even that you avoid it. You just don't feel any desire for it either.

And it's different for every ace person, but for me, I wouldn't mind having sex with a partner, but I don't feel any need for it whatsoever. I think the emotional connection is nice, but I don't find people sexually attractive. Sex to me is very similar as eating good food: It's just warm vibes? I'm not sure if that makes sense, but if this helps: for a long time I couldn't understand why someone would be that upset about their partner having sex or kissing someone else, or why people had types. I also tend to view sex in a more practical sense, more clinically than anything else. I don't understand sexual fantasies or one night stands. In my head, sex is just an action and I don't see the point other than to emotionally connect. And if my partner never wanted to have sex, that would be perfectly okay.

Some ace people have sex frequently, whether it's to connect with their partner or just because they enjoy it (I'm pretty sure there's some science somewhere that having sex is like a stress-reliever and has other benefits) to have children, or for many other reasons. Some ace people are sex-repulsed and will never have sex. Some ace people (like me) just don't mind one way or the other and view sex almost in a casual way, like one might view a hobby or activity. I'm never really not in the mood, but I'm never in the mood, either. All ace people are different, not to mention that demisexuals, graysexuals, and lots of others fall under the ace umbrella.

Being ace is often compared to celibacy or having a bad sexual experience that causes you to abstinent, but that is not accurate. Non-asexual celibate people may feel desire/sexual attraction for others, they just choose not to act on it. Asexual people don't feel that attraction. I've never looked at someone (not even when we've been dating) and thought, "This person is hot. I would like to have sex with them." (I know it's not quite like that but you know what I mean lol).

@crossthread, if you are questioning your sexuality, I encourage you to look into not just being ace but all the different sexualities (or lack thereof lol) that fall into the aspec category. You may be surprised to find that you identify with one! If you or anyone else has any more questions, I'd be more than happy to answer them, but also keep in mind that this is just my personal experience being ace and everyone's experiences are different, so I hope you'll also look out for other aspec people's experiences! <3

[not-poignant]

we know that alex has been in love for a long time but what about sebastian? he makes me so confused lol

i’m always wondering about what’s going on in his mind

Okay, so, I'm happy to talk about this! But it is kind of spoilery so like gird your loins or whatever :D

Sebastian has not had any romantic feelings for Alex at all. Ever.

He's never really thought about him sexually, and when he has he's kind of been grossed out because he can only really imagine Alex in heterosexual situations (that might be changing, but slowly, lol). He's concealing no secret feelings or anything like that.

He is however growing genuine feelings of friendship and care, and there's definitely potential for him to grow more (otherwise this story wouldn't work).

But there's no 'mutual pining' here or anything. Alex was completely alone in his love for Sebastian. Not only that, but Sebastian didn't even realise he was gay until he met Martingale (at least that's the working theory I have so far, we'll see when it comes to writing it). Not only is Alex gay, he's known it about himself for actually a lot longer than Sebastian has about himself.

Sebastian has a strong sense of internal justice when it comes to being paid fairly and being treated well for work. This is pulled directly from the canon. In the very first cut scene we ever have with Sebastian, he's pissed off that his mother and Abigail don't take his work seriously, and you also have the option of respecting / not respecting his work. So this is pretty foundational to his character. It's the first thing he ever opens up to you about. So that's definitely influenced some of his behaviour in A Stain that Won't Dissolve.

But it's not like Sebastian offered Alex the cleaning job, Alex actually had to put himself forward and then really push for it, because Sebastian's initial response was no / that's not a good idea.

I honestly think the thing that really opens Sebastian's mind to the idea that Alex could be someone he's attracted to, is learning that one of his guy friends hits on Alex (which is coming in a couple of chapters).

But yeah, much of Alex's love would have been received as extremely unrequited, and Alex has also known that. It's why he doesn't try to like... subtly 'seduce' Sebastian. He just wants to be closer to him. He hopes at best for friendship and doesn't expect even that much. He doesn't think about his infatuation with Sebastian as anything more than something he has to deal with privately for the rest of his life, like a burden his brain made him carry and he can't make himself stop.

On that front, he's actually pretty accurate in his assessment of Sebastian as being not attracted to him, or at least not personally interested in him (I think Sebastian could be attracted to Alex - I mean he obviously will come to be - but has ruled Alex out due to him just being a straight dickhead, lol). The reason it's hard to tell what Sebastian's thinking on that front is because Sebastian isn't really engaging on that front.

I don't think Sebastian has any idea that Alex is gay, that Alex could be into him, anything like that. Alex has done a good job of hiding it from everyone, which many people who fear for their lives re: their sexualities do actually get pretty good at, especially in country towns. Especially if you know your family wouldn't have approved, or worry about it.

Sebastian definitely isn't like... secretly aware of this stuff, and he's not secretly concealing feelings towards Alex. Sebastian's story is a slow burn towards growing attraction. Alex's story is unrequited love for way too long.

Also, Sebastian finding out Alex is gay, Sebastian finding out Alex might be attracted to him, and Sebastian finding out that Alex is in love with him, are all going to be three completely separate realisations!

[wisteriagoesvroom]

hey :)) got any hopes for the race? who do you think is going to be in the top 3? (i'm just hoping for no in-team drama, but maybe that's bc i'm new lol) - @monegasquess

no in-team drama -> oh man @monegasquess you're gonna get me yapping. i feel like we've entered f1 at such a sanitised / different age to what it was before but there always was, is, and will be ✨drama ✨... what form it takes i don't know!

but it is certainly interesting compared to even 5 years ago how the public narratives have changed and how much teams (or maybe specifically ferrari and mclaren as examples) actively rely on happy-brotherly driver narratives to market the sport to new audiences (people like us) now. even with red bull i get the sense that the only reason we're not seeing inter-driver drama is because checo knows exactly where he stands and what is role in the team is, which is definitely interesting to watch. we are experiencing max in the kind of... moon waxing phase because he already has 3 WDCs but we're also seeing indications of how volatile he can get when there's a hint of challenge to getting him that WDC, like silverstone, austria, hungary. it seems like a very different type of drama to the danil/pierre/alex albon eras where they were younger drivers feeling like they had a lot to prove to each other as much as the team... but i digress.

where we're at in the season now makes for extremely compelling racing, especially given the almost clean sweep max made last year / what a friend of mine called "max's leisure sunday morning drive" to p1 every time lol. and this is not to downplay that he is a once in a generation driver who wrangles magic out of the car - due to a variety of reasons it hasn't been easy for him this year and that's what makes for great viewing too: added stakes.

TANGENT ASIDE, my personal hopes for the race... from a mclaren pov....

obviously i'd like an oscar podium in spa (tho a win would be stellar). he's driving well and idk anything about the track conditions or whether they favour the car but consensus seems to be that the orange car is a rocketship whichever way you slice it, so. but also. maybe something people don't talk about as much is how much driver synergy is actually required - amongst the other engineering prowess obviously and huge credit to andrea and team here - to get the car developed to this point. lando and oscar are clearly very evenly matched in skill at the moment. to me, in an oversimplified way, lando has better tyre management, and oscar is better on attack. and also i am thinking about how andrea says it seems lando and oscar discuss the car amongst themselves before they deliver feedback so they are on the same page. so it'll be exciting to see them battle wheel to wheel more... and certainly not without drama.

there also was a really funny and accurate post about how mclaren's DNA has been kind of... repositioned publicly to be all chummy chummy but that's probably going to change if the two drivers ever end up fighting in earnest for a WDC. idk. there are a lot of unknowns. there are a lot of possibilities. there's a reason why fic is the fun sandbox to explore those because we also just never know what might happen with the reg changes by '26 which could toss mclaren all the way back to middle of the pack, it's incredibly hard to say.

one thing for sure though. is that until oscar gets his wdc (which in my biased but also strident opinion he will in his career)... i am unfortunately buckled tf up to watch lmao.

and the sport will change again with the arrival of new talent, new marketing, new audience acquisition, the direction that Liberty Media i.e. the owners want to take it (more street tracks...eugh brother eugh)... so who knows, genuinely.

anyway your ask about this particular race weekend turned into a much longer essay centred around my interest in oscar and the future of the sport sooooo uh yeah staying true to my rep as yappatron 3000 i guess. but with summer break coming up and new folks following the sport all the time, i thought it was worth chatting about!

thank you for the question!

[thatdesklamp]

Hellooo again! I'm here with a question regarding the chapter 16 of IW that's been on my mind for a while now! Hopefully, the answer is not a spoiler. I was wondering if Yehaba noticed the shift between gojo and hebi after chapter 16 incident. I honestly feel like she might've noticed the growing distance and difference in how gojo or hebi interact and have an inkling of what happened (considering she did raise them and it's been pointed out that Yehaba knows a lot more than she lets on). Does she confront one of them about it? Do Megumi and Tsumiki notice? Do they talk about it with Yehaba or each other? What are their thoughts/feelings on the matter? With the way you present Megumi and Tsumiki in this fic (which is honestly such an accurate representation compared to many others), I can see them being concerned for gojo/hebi and also wonder what that could possibly mean in regards to how they are going to be taken care of like split custody, possibly hebi leaving for longer periods of time, etc. I know you touched on this a little bit in chapter 17 but will it be further expanded on? Also, what are their thoughts. If it can't be answered, that's OK lol I know you have stuff written/planned out that will be released later so sorry in advance if I'm bombarding you with all these questions!

Love your story! Please take care of yourself! I shall share my theories with you when I can properly accumulate my thoughts and feelings without breaking down in serotonin!

Ok thank u love u bye ❤️

Hello hello!

OOh, very very interesting. I think yes, absolutely, Yahaba would have noticed something. Definitely. I've always said that I wish when I was writing the earlier chapters that I'd spent more time with Yahaba--fleshing her out, developing her, everything like that. Not only so that her uh... untimely demise would have hurt sm more. It's the cons of writing chapter by chapter, even though I do always leave myself some leeway, but I wrote the young-age-chapters like, two years ago, and I do kinda wish I could go back and change some stuff. LOL.

But yes! She defo would have noticed that--she kinda raised the two of them as kids, and she was getting to know them as adults on a more equal playing field. And so the change going from Hebi going back to the Gojo household nearly every night, to her literally never going unless to pick up or see the kids, for sure, she would have noticed. I think I 'know' her better than IW's readers--which is completely my fault as an author, I haven't spent enough time with her in the fic for y'all to feel like you know her???--and in my head she's always been pretty kind but very reserved, more formal-ish and pretty set on her position. Like, I've always had her speak to Gojo, and then tsumiki/megumi, with the -san honorific, to sort of show that she's keeping some barrier between herself and the people she works for? I guess to remind everyone of their place; yes, of course she has love and affection for them, but she is also the head servant of the household. Does that make sense?

Anyway--I think knowing that, there would have been some kind of quiet, implied conversation between her and Gojo, when she noticed that Hebi wasn't turning up much more. She would have probably asked without probing, kind of a very subtle questioning type thing. Maybe a quiet word once the kids have gone to sleep, and Yahaba's heading home maybe. She would probably mention that she hasn’t seen Hebi around, and leave it to Gojo to answer if he wanted to (agh, he probably wouldn’t). She’d say something about the way he had acted when they’d fought before, back when they were 15/16, but I can’t see her being any pushier than that, if that makes sense. And I can’t see Gojo opening up, either; he barely does with Hebi, and removing her makes him closer to the canon Gojo, in all his isolation and loneliness.

We’ll learn more about what Gojo’s been up to in their break in later chapters, so I won’t say any more than that about him?

And the kids! Firstly, thank you for saying they seem accurate—I did so so much research into the impact of neglect on children and so tried super hard to portray it decently. It’s also prevented me from being a Toji stan—I have to really keep quiet when I see jjk fans talk about how he’s always loved megumi, how ‘maybe he’s not the best father, but he’s a good one still!’. Like… no, babygirls, he’s a shite father and I will present evidence. I could go on and on but I will not.

I was going to write a oneshot from Tsumiki’s pov, but it kind of evolved into the winter Gojo pov and I had to somewhat scrap it. I think they definitely would have noticed it—when I wrote the first draft of the recent chapter, I had it where Hebi isolated herself from the kids as well, where she barely saw the, but on review I literally couldn’t do that to them, lol. I just couldn’t handle another adult figure deserting them; it’s so so important for kids to have stability from parental figures, and also, with Hebi’s own background with parental figures, I couldn’t see her abandoning them. She knows firsthand how important it is for those kids to be able to rely on people, and I couldn’t have her desert them too. I’d genuinely feel like I’d be doing a disservice to her character, icl. So: the kids still see her just as much, but not with Gojo. But I do think they’d notice the difference, because the difference is so startling; probably, there’d be some anxiety from them both (even if it’s expressed differently), about being abandoned. If one of the Gojo or Hebi starts withdrawing from the other, maybe they’ll start withdrawing from the kids too! (Obviously this wouldn’t happen, but it’s a reasonable worry). I don’t think this would be expressed to either G or H; Megumi is too insular and Tsumiki I feel has too much of a pressure to be an ‘adult’ child, who takes care of others and takes on responsibility of their problems.

I’m pretty ill at the moment so I’m not sure if this makes sense. Feel free to ask follow up questions if I haven’t answered something; I know this is very long and winding, lol T_T

Thank you for the message though!! <3

[bvnga-aprikot]

HC designs from when i read the novel

sorry for the lack of color in the dresses, i got lazy halfway. and yes i mispelled chokers my bad for that ;-;

So i mentioned in a reblog of a post by @lithi that i wanted to show my fanon designs of Athy and Jetty after seeing her talk about how people who only read the wmmap novel must have different interpretations of the characters designs. I must admit, i’m a little biased in that aspect because i read the manhwa first so at first when reading the novel (specifically fan translations bc this was before i found out about ridibooks) for the first time i always imagine Spoon’s designs when i read them. But now having a new perspective on this i decided i wanted to make a sketch based on how i imagined these two while reading the novel a second time.

For Athanasia, i think the most obvious has to be the fact that i imagine her with darker skin due to Sioddona being inspired by the Ottoman Empire visually from the manhwa. I know, a bit weird since this is about the novel but personally that’s how i always imagined what Siodonna looked like. Another thing i like to imagine and, this is a personal headcanon for me, is that she always likes to wear a necklace that reminds her of Diana, because she never knew her and wanted some semblance of her mother to be with her every step of the way. I always wanted to know more about Diana so think of this as part of that need lol. As for Athy’s outfits, i always imagine the dresses @alicehattera03 would post about that suit Athy to be her fashion sense in the novel. Don’t get me wrong i love the dresses Spoon puts her in, but at the same time i always imagine her in more regal clothes befitting of a crown princess, and Alice always has the best imagination whenever it’s Athy related so i mostly think of her posts whenever i think of Athy aha. Also, more on that note on chokers, i think it’s safe to say that Athy has every right feeling uncomfortable around those things due to the whole hanged thing from the original novel, so while she isn’t exactly the same Athy she’d probably still find chokers a bit triggering since they remind her of her doom.

For Jennette, the biggest difference for me is that i wanted her to look a bit intimidating to the eyes without the effects of her black magic. I think to illustrate the seeping black magic from her body, she uses things like chokers and longer dresses to cover the markings. It’s a bit gross describing it now but hey, LP!Jetty did a lot of questionable things so i suppose having some symbolism about her sins isn’t too far reaching. I don’t know why, but whenever i like to imagine ladies in historical dressing, i always seem to imagine the dresses Shuli von Neuschwanstein wears, probably because i think they’re the best designed dresses in manhwa yet but that’s personal. This applied to imagining Jetty too, so i used one of Shuli’s dresses as reference. Something i like to imagine is that Jetty also has a darker color palette compared to Athy to illustrate how completely opposite they are, so in the novel i always think of her having much darker hair than she has in the manhwa, plus longer hair for the fun of it (another thing inspired by my beloved Shuli lmao). I don’t think there was any mention of Jetty having bangs, but i gave them to her in this design since they’ve become what i associate with her.

Another thing, i’m not sure if this would be accurate but imagine them being much taller in the novel than they are in the manhwa 😅. I don’t know what is with me and my thing for tall female characters, but i think because there isn’t too much descriptors for height the last time i read, i think it’s safe to assume i could go wild with that aspect in terms of the novel designs i have. Instead of being around 150-160s in centimeters, i always thought of them being more around 170ish till about 180 roughly, and the reason for that is because i like to imagine the very dramatic and foreboding scenes they’re in to be accentuated with how tall they are lmao. Probably makes sense for Athy’s case since she’s princess and all.

That’s about it for how i imagine them in the novel, i’m sure others have their own interpretations and ideas of how they’d look in the novel but so far these are mine, thanks for reading ;p

[chaiandsage]

Heyo!

I just wanna say i finally finshed your trust life fic after, admittedly, a long time (I struggle with long fics and typically hate reading them) it was really great I actually had a lot of fun reading it! Im really glad your fic could be the first lobg fic ive read in a really long time and encouraging me to step outta my confort zone for that kinda stuff :} anyways I did actually have a question belive it or not, I was wondering if you had any tips on writting in character for them (them being the traffic games characters) and for writting longer fics?

Hi! Thank you!!

I’m not surprised it took you a while. When I went back to read it all myself, it took me literal weeks to finish, lol. But thank you for giving this one a try anyway. It’s great to know that you still enjoyed it even though it was out of the norm for you

For your question, I think a small, but effective way to achieve that would be to make sure a character’s dialogue includes phrases or words that they usually use often. Same goes for their tone too. So like, I know that people like Joel and Bdubs are usually loud talkers whereas Etho and Lizzie are more on the quiet end. So maybe just try to reflect that and keep things consistent unless the situation calls for something else? I’ll also just try to read things over in that character’s voice and if it feels wrong coming out of their mouth, then I change it according to what feels more accurate

Aside from dialogue tho, you could also try seeing how others seem to write them most often and work off of that? Sorry for the vagueness. I’m not sure I’m the best person to give advice on that subject 😅

Longer fics however… If you’re asking how to stretch a fic out, I think one way to kind of cheat at that would be to have the story take place from more than one perspective. That way there’s twice or more the amount of potential thoughts, problems, backstory, and development to cover (learned this the hard way)

—But if you’re asking how to write a GOOD long fic… I mean, I’d say it’s very important to have the gist of what you expect to happen be already established front and center in an outline. That way you’re not unprepared for anything and have already gotten one of the most difficult parts of writing it done (imo). That’s not to say that straying from your outline is a bad thing. If anything, depending on your story, it could kind of function as a safety net for that sort of thing. So no matter how much you decide to change, you at least know what direction you’re meant to be going in (I really hope I’m making sense here…)

ALSO—keep around a journal, or a notepad, or a log on your phone, or whatever so you can jot down any random ideas that you think would be cool to put in your story that might come to you whenever. Don’t trust yourself to remember to add them in once you start writing, because you won’t/lhj

If your fic has a lot of characters in it, then also make sure to write down and keep track of their relationship or current standing with other characters. For example, it wouldn’t make sense for two people who had beef three chapters ago to suddenly be cool or indifferent around each other the next time they meet up without there having been some kind of resolution (internal or otherwise) in the middle of all that. If someone gets into an argument with another person and then doesn’t see them again for a few chapters, their immediate thought upon seeing them for the first time again, in my opinion, shouldn’t be a cheery or neutral one. Maybe they cooled down a little between those chapters, but I don’t think the problem should have just fixed itself with time alone. That goes for a lot of other situations too

So, yeah, that’s pretty much what came to mind for me. I don’t consider myself an expert on any of this so please feel free to take it with a grain of salt. Regardless, I do hope you’re able to write out what you had in mind :)

[mellythedork]

How in the ever-loving gourd has it been ten years? Time is an illusion that I stopped seeing ages ago.

10 years ago, at the tail end of 2013, I had a huge, friendship-ending fight that shattered me. In an attempt to keep myself together, I hid behind a character and wrote the most self-indulgent crossover fic I'd ever concocted. After 5 years, 2 rewrites, too many OCs to count, magic mechanics I didn't think through, and conversations with my former best friend about what had happened, I finally let that fic rest. I knew that if I tried to continue it, I'd never move on, as the very basis of it was focused on that fight.

But it was still such a colossal part of my life. 5 years to spend on a project is no laughing matter, and it felt like it was the only trustworthy constant as I struggled to make my way through everything going on around me. It invaded RPs with friends and basically everything I did...and that wasn't always a good thing. It was a coping mechanism that went too far, but I still cherished it so much.

Things never got anywhere near back to how they had been before that fight. But I learned a lot about myself and how to better handle problems I hadn't realized I was creating. I feel like being forced to think about it while writing the original Mooniverse helped me come to terms with it and move on--which was, of course, the intention all along! But it came to a point where I knew it had to end.

There was never any rhyme or reason to that fic, in any version of it. I wrote it purely to have fun and go wild. It's so odd looking back at the chapters now; I keep laughing at how things went without direction. But it was pure and adorable and I'll always look back at it fondly...beyond the cringing at how much I shoved it in my friends' faces.

For…I was going to say over a year, but I feel like 2 would be more accurate. For about 2 years now, I've struggled to create anything. Both art and writing have felt impossible. I burned out on most of my personal projects without realizing it until last month, but that realization took a weight off of me. And without that weight, as I realized the anniversary that was coming up, I was able to create something on nothing but a whim and enjoy it again.

My art block certainly isn't gone, and nothing about this is what I'd consider perfect. It's not even finished. But I set the sketch as my goal, trying to keep the pressure low, in hopes that I'd be able to post it at all. I do want to touch it up and finish it one day, but I'm not going to worry about that now.

I have been a bit inspired, though! I want to do more things like this. Like the original Mooniverse Melodia and the final one standing side by side here, I want to pull together more OCs with such connections and growth and see how far they've come. I don't know how much of that I'll accomplish, but it's been fun to think about for sure.

I hope everyone's holidays have gone well and that your plans for the new year are fulfilling. I think this year is going to go a lot better for me than the last.

--

From left to right we have: The original Annie along with the final Annie (Of course they'd be friends!)

The final Melodia (with slight modifications to her outfit in order to make a bit more sense; ditto to her bangs. Seriously, what was I thinking when I made that mess?? lol)

The middle-ground Moon (as I no longer have the design for the original, but wanted to include her)

The final Hope (in one of her alternate outfits)

The original Melodia (I didn't think I had any references left of her, but after about 2 hours of searching, I gave up only to stumble upon one by chance the next day. Sure was a surprise!)

And finally the middle-ground Myasu (just think of her & Moon as representing the first rewrite!)

-- I knew most of my art problems were from my difficulty and dislike of drawing bodies, so to make this possible at all, I used a base.

I also very much referenced the original image, the hair of Love Live and Idolmaster characters, and self-made bases from Shugo Chara, both due to time constraints and to keep my sanity. I'm very out of practice and didn't want to get so frustrated I abandoned the drawing altogether.