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#Outlander Getting to Know You
thefrsers · 1 year
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*when my favorite fictional bbygirl does badass hotgirl shit*
me:
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pensbridgertons · 11 months
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jamieclaire and swanfire → separation and reunion parallels
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burymeinwillow · 3 months
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Joe, Heather and their time travel baby
The Heather/Joe story quickly(ish) summarized
- Heather Dawson travels back in time from 1994/1995 to 1865 Virginia City. - Gets work as an assistant to the Doctor in town (because in her own time she worked as a nurse). - Meets the Cartwrights, is not impressed by Little Joe trying to flirt with her. - Tells Joe she's NOT interested in him and she never will be. Her entire goal while being in the past is to simply get home, and she has no interest in getting connections. - Heather gets in trouble in town and ends up staying with the Cartwrights. She doesn't want to stay for free, so she offers to help around the house and also tend to injured ranch hands etc. - Joe and Heather are not friends at first, he's butthurt she rejected him so harhsly and she thinks he's annoying and charming - Heather starts catching feelings for Joe despite what she said (Joe was already in love from Day One) - After ALOT of pining and wierd communication, feelings are revealed and they get married. - Heather chooses to stay in the past with Joe and his family. Letting go of her own time and life. - Heather is married to Joe for three years. - Their first child is a miscarriage, it was a daughter. - In 1868 Heather finds out she's pregnant again, and she tells Joe. - The same year, some drama happens and Heather is forced to travel back to her own time after thinking Joe is dead (he "died" in her arms) - Heather finds herself back in her own time, 1998. Jesse is born 6-7 months later. - She raises Jesse on her own in her time and never remarries. - Jesse grows up and takes alot after his father, but Heather never told him the truth of who his father is. - He becomes a naval aviator. - In 2022, Heather passes away, but before she passes she tells Jesse about his father and he is not impressed at first. - After her death, Jesse digs into who his paternal family is and finds out Joe didn't die when Heather thought he did. - He decides to travel back in time and confront his father, but ends up getting along and he really enjoying the Ponderosa and The Cartwrights his family
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Not me being visible on Bisexual Visibility Day with a fun new “getting to know you” game from @meerawrites who tagged me!
Last Song? “Splatter Splatter” by Moxy Früvous, apropos of a hilarious discussion about horror films on the BJR Discord server.
Favourite Color? Black for my clothes—all I wear really. But I’ve jewelry in many color palettes, and in general tend to appreciate intentional coordination among colors rather than one particular color above others.
Currently Watching? Nothing at the moment save typing progress on my computer screen! I am also between shows right now. Sometimes I don’t like non-monotonous external noise during my thinky time. I’m also still digesting Season 2 of Good Omens and find myself needing to blast y’all with guys for a bit before moving on to new pleasures.
Last Movie/TV Show? Champions is the last film I watched. If you love the original White Men Can’t Jump and support Special Olympics, don’t miss this. Also don’t miss the remake of White Men Can’t Jump, for that matter—it’s hilarious and offers a fresh spin on the story.
Sweet/Spicy/Savory? Spicy all the way! Preferably with some salty and sour in the mix.
Relationship Status? Married to an awesome fellow bisexual person for 7+ years and together for 12+ years. Spouse and I have always had an open relationship. They’ve had a second partner for several years; these days I’m privileged to enjoy another precious connection as well. In deeply bisexual fashion, my choice of company comprises a mixture of sex and gender characteristics. Totally crushing it at Pokémon Go over here.
Current Obsessions? The Outlander canon and creative work involving BJR are a constant. I also love watching documentaries about extreme weather situations and the science of unpacking them, and reading nonfiction books in a similar vein even though they are farther afield from my professional and creative work than many of my other nonfiction choices. As far as foci of the moment go media-wise, definitely Good Omens is my “consume much content” one right now. I’m also really looking forward to watching the latest seasons of Reservation Dogs and Winning Time with my spouse.
Last Thing You Googled? Black Jack Randall photos for my Evil Redcoat Pipeline post celebrating Bisexual Visibility Day!
All the usual ERP mutuals are always encouraged to participate when spoons avail! I’m also tagging @lowgardn, @traycakes, @patronsaintofdemons, @unwholesome-gay, @blindbeholder, and @hummustea because I’d be very curious to see your responses if you’d like to jump in.
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eorzeashan · 1 year
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This isn't the best picture, but it kinda looks like Lana designed this armor for him and unintentionally (or intentionally) made them match, lol.
#swtor#kotfe/et#dude his armor is SO dark i couldn't see him on my screen for the majority of kotfe i thought his model disappeared#INVISIBLE...#i've also been thinking more about his role in this alliance that treats him in an incredibly utilitarian way#and since he's come to accept his role as a tool who just kills lana's enemies and nobody seems to debate that except to disapprove#he starts wandering off more and more#alternating between sleeping inside his quarters and camping outside to purposely make it difficult for people to find him lol#so they can't bother him with trivial tasks or lectures#andronikos laughs at lana and theron being irritated by it like haha. guess he doesn't like you lot after all to which they feel miffed by#but eight *is* a proud creature who can't be reigned in when his heart does not resonate with his keepers#and they decide it might be fair to let him do what he wants as long as he picks up when they call him#he ends up traveling through the rural regions of zakuul and enmeshing himself with the locals as a friendly sellsword#he just solves little problems he comes across sometimes for payment sometimes for free#and they think he's just a mercenary attracted by zakuul and they're like he's so nice...be careful sir the outlander might be out here#don't stay out too late but we'll know you'll protect us :)#they keep giving him shit like their vegetables and even a pack animal cuz he doesn't take money so whenever he comes back#the alliance is like where the fuck did you get these.#also you can't convince me the entire population of a planet is in (1) shitty city or none of them have already left for the wilds#the exiles do not count#esp since there's still remnants of life there im sure not everyone would give up their culture or way of living
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stevethehairington · 4 months
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AYO FUCK NETFLIX HARD WITH A SPIKY CACTUS
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llycaons · 1 year
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[ID: tweet by Rachel Bowdler: I don't know why reviewers criticise romance for being "predictable". romance authors are not trying to shock or surprise you 💀. End ID]
well maybe they should be! if romance writers try to challenge themselves I'd be really excited to see what original or groundbreaking works could result. they won't all be good but at least it'll be an attempt. this approach to an entire genre is just. it feels like accepting low expectations and generic content. I'm not talking about doing things just for shock value I'm talking about telling an engaging story...like it doesn't have to be shocking but some things that you don't expect should happen no? romance doesn't have to be simply a comforting and predictable genre in which you can guess every next move...
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thefrsers · 9 months
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Ngl I’m very much disappointed in St*rz lack of sharing OL content to give us smth to look forward to while we wait. Still no update on when 7B premiere’s, nothing new about s8, nothing from the cast to atleast enagage us like idec if its old videos from before JUST GIVE US SMTH ANYTHING😭
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kimchaewonstie · 1 year
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should I read the Outlander series?
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sapphiressmoke · 4 months
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Outlander I
Summary: She doesn’t know how it happened but they were calling to her to come closer. Touching it was never suppose to uproot her life and transport her somewhere she never thought she could see and witness. She has to try her best to survive if she wants to get back, right?
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen X Modern!Reader.
Warnings: Nothing as of now but angst, romance, smut
Word Count: 2.6K
Next Part
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2024 AC Kings Landing
So this was the magical Kings Landing? Once the vast and lively city was now a place of desolation, solitude and history. It had been like this ever since the burning in 305 A.C between two Queens. You read about how it was a horrible event, many innocent people lost their lives… Even the two Queens. Since that moment, no more Targaryens roamed Westeros. It was now a place of history and learning. Most teachers brought their students here to see what they were being taught. Some parents dragged their kids here to learn of their heritage.
You were here for the first reason.
Being in your second year of Vale University, you were studying History and Literature. What were you going to with that degree? You have no idea but at least you were enjoying yourself… For the most part. “The Red Keep took many years to complete. Three reigns to be exact. What started on Aegon’s High Hill names Aegonfort. King Aegon the First used this fort as his seat during the conquest, housing the impeccable Iron Throne. Though it was destroyed in the battle of Kings Landing, paintings portrayed this throne as huge and intimidating.” Your group followed your professor as she guided everyone at the base of what the humongous Keep used to be. You looked around, red brick scattered over the floor. You mind raced as you thought of how these bricks were over 2000 years old, millions of people have touched them and now they were scattered all over the dirt floor. “It isn’t said when but at some point after the Conquest, the King ordered the destruction of the Fort and the construction of the Red Keep began. It was said that Aegon requested the castle be built with red rock to remind people of the fire he roasted and the blood he shed of his enemies, so whenever King’s Landing looked up they’d see the price of defiance.”
Your professor continued to talk but the sound of nature around you drowned it out. The sound of buzzing getting louder in your ear, getting louder and louder. “Ugh! You don’t hear that?” You brought your finger to your ears and tried wiggling it around to see if there was anything there.
“Hear what?” Your friend, Talia, said as she leaned in.
“That stupid buzzing sound. It won’t stop.” You groaned as you continued with your ear.
Your friend gave you a weird look. “I just think you’re going crazy. There is nothing.”
The buzzing softened and turned into a soft whisper, softer than wind. “Y/N… Darling… Y/N.”
You whipped your head back, trying to find the source of the noise. “Please told me heard that!” Before Talia could respond, your professor spoke faster. “Is there something you would like to add, Miss Y/N?”
Your face went beat red from embarrassment. “No ma’am… Sorry.” You said sheepishly.
“Thank you. Now where was I? Ah yes. The start of the fall of the Targaryens, it started when…” You started to zone out and looked back behind you, trying to figure out where the whisper came from. From the bottom of the hill, you spotted a man sporting an eyepatch, long silver hair and cladded in leather. He had his arm extended out towards you, as if he was waiting for you to come and grab it, calling you to run away with him but just as fast as you spotted him, he disappeared.
You felt your arm being grabbed and a hand stroke your upper arm. You turned towards Talia, who wore a worried look. “Is everything okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
You shook your head and ran a hand through your hair. “Yea… Yes. I’m good.” You grasped her hand that was on your upper arm. “Let’s just get this tour over with. It’s giving me the heebie jeebies.”
“You got that right.” She agreed. “But I heard that the Kingswood, which is just behind the hotel, is just as creepy. Maybe even haunted!”
128 AC Kings Landing
“Mother, please tell me I do not need to go to this hunt. There are better things I can do with my time.” The One-Eyed Prince has been trying for days to stay at the Keep, not wanting to waste a morning travelling to the Kingswood just for a hunt that he did not want to participate in.
The Queen sighed at her son, pushing a silver strand away from his stoic face. “Aemond… ‘Tis for Jaehaerys and Jaehaeras name day. Your brother wants to do a grand celebration for them. Especially for Jaehaerys.”
He rolled his one eye. “We all know that it’s an excuse for him to drink away… With reason this time.” He looked up at his mother. “Will father be coming?”
“The Maesters will assess The Kings health before letting us know but I do doubt that he will be able to join with the amount of pain he has been in.” The Queen replied. It has been no secret that The Kings has been declining the past couple of years. Decaying flesh, rotting teeth and constant pain. Drunk day in and out on milk of the poppy.
“If he does not go…” He tried to think of a reason to stay but was stump. “If he does not go then I shall stay here and watch over him.” Lies.
Alice by let out a chuckle. “You are quite the convincing liar, Aemond, but the Maesters will be here to aid your father in anything.” She walked away from her son and looked at the window, looking upon the people of Kings Landing. “I know you would much rather be here, reading in the library and training outside but it will do you some good to be away for a bit. Breath the good air of Kingswood.” She turned around to face her third child. “Plus, Ser Criston Cole shall be joining us if you ever do need to scratch the intense to train.”
Aemond rubbed his face and groaned. “I guess you are right, mother. But I will not ride with Aegon in the carriage. He’s an imbecile and will most likely throw up from all of the wine he has drank.”
“Thank you.” Alicent smiled. “You may ride with with me and Ser Criston. Halaena will be with the children and nurse while Aegon rides with Ser Arryk and Erryk as it seems they are the only ones that can deal with his shenanigans.”
“As I mentioned before… Imbecile.”
The night passed swiftly and once the sun started to rise and was on the horizon line, the Royal Family begun their travels to the Kingswood. Even though Aemond was never a talkative person, worsening after the incident with his eye, he seemed even more lost in his thoughts than usual. He stared out the window, sitting across from his mother who watched him intensely. “What is on your mind, sweet son?”
Aemond continued to look outside the window but sighed. “I had this weird dream. Was just flashes of images. Nothing clear. There was this woman… She seemed lost, searching for help. It sounded like she was calling out to me but the way she dressed did not seem normal.”
The Queen stayed silent for a moment before speaking. “Are you a Dragon Dreamer now?” She joked, causing a small smile to break on the princes face. “Dreams have many meanings. Perhaps it’s just a bad dream from the stress you put on yourself. Free your mind for the next couple of days. Perhaps even participate in the hunt.”
The hunt that went on in the Kingswoods happened every couple of years, usually to celebrate a names day for a royal child. The White Hart was usually the main goal of the hunt but any animal was game. “And if I were to meet the White Hart, would that not be a sign that I should be the King over my buffoon of a brother?” It was quite well known that Aegon did not desire to be King, fought against everything Even fighting with his Grand Father and Mother saying that it was his Half Sisters birthright but all of his complaints were going to a deaf ear. Aemond wished to rule. He was fit to rule and it was simple: he rode the largest dragon in all of Westeros, he excelled in combat and studied on the history and politics of his family and of Westeros but it would not go to him unless everyone in front of him died.
This was a conversation he had with his mother too often but his question was answered with silence. That was how the rest of the carriage ride went. Silence. The dream kept replaying over and over in his mind. Who was this girl? What was she doing? Who was she to him?
Within the next couple of hours, Lords and Ladies and the Royals arrived in Kingswood. The air still cold with the mornings breath. Everything was set up for them to place clothing, tables… Everything. The children were running about, screaming playfully with each other. Jaehaerys and Jaehaera came running towards Aemond, crashing into his legs. “Hi Uncle Aemond!” They squealed.
He looked down at his niece and nephew, rubbing the back of their heads before pushing them back on their way. “Hello you two.”
“Time travels back and is protected by the White King.” Helaena whispered into the cold air of the morning, staring at Aemond from across the way.
Aemond looked up to make eye contact with Halaena, seeing her lips move but not making out what she had said. He cocked his head to the side, deciding to walk towards his sister to see what she had said. She didn’t seem to realize that Aemond was by her side before he squeezed her hand. “What was that, good sister?” Helaena looked up at him and gave him a small smile. “Only Time can tell you… Only Time.”
The rest of day went on eventfully. The men prepared for the hunt while the women gossiped as they ate cake. Of course Alicent chose not to participate in the gossip. She could not bother to hear anymore about Rhaenyra, her bastard sons and how great they are. She decided to watch her grand-children run about. Aegon was nowhere to be found, most likely already drunk in his tent, Helaena chose to rest in her tent as the carriage ride took a lot out of her and Aemond sat with Criston Cole as they sharpened their swords, getting ready for the hunt. She stared around her and for a slight moment, she would think her life was perfect. She had her children and her grand-children around her but then she remembers that she is practically ruling the Seven Kingdoms, her husband was dying and she was alone in the world.
2024 AC Kingswood
You slipped on your black slip dress, continuing to argue with your friend in the hotel room. “You don’t get it, Talia! There is something calling to me out there. I’m not insane. I’m not crazy. It’s been going on ever since we entered Kings Landing.” The buzzing was constant, the whispering was constant and the flashes of that man were at every corner.
Talia sat on the bed, her eyes following you as you continued to pace around the room. “I’m not saying you’re crazy but you sound crazy, Y/N. A silver haired man with only one eye? Listen to yourself!”
You groaned and you pulled yourself into a ball. “I know what I sound like!” You stood back up and waved your arms around. “But this… This place is weird. There has been so many deaths and apparently fucking magic. There is something going on.” You grabbed your black shawl from your luggage and pulled in over your shoulders. “And I am going to figure it out.” You pointed to the woods. “I’m going to go in those stupid woods and try to find something. I don’t what I will try to find but I will know what it is when I see it.”
Your friend gave you a shocked look, standing up quickly and grabbed your arm. “Okay now I’m saying that you are crazy! There’s boars… Bears in those woods! You could die! What would your mom do if you die?”
You ripped your arm from her grasp. “Well she always knew I would die in a stupid way. Tell her I love her. And before you ask, no you can’t come. You’ll be the person to let the teacher know that I’m gone. If I’m not back before the next tour tomorrow morning, you can go all out and tell everyone I’m missing. Okay?”
You saw the perplexed look she wore in her face before answering. “Fine. Fine! If you die… Ugh!”
You put on your pair of shoes, grabbed your flashlight and placed it your bag before heading out. You stood in front of the forest and sighed, were you really this stupid? Yes, yes you were. You took one last look at the hotel before you made your way into the dark, insect infected forest… Gods you were dumb.
It had already been a few hours at this point, you were tired, you were hungry and you still had no idea what you were looking for. You kept hearing animal noises surrounding you and you were terrified. What if a wild boar chased you or a bear mauled you to death? What if you died of dehydration. How many days does it take to die or dehydration or hunger?
Suddenly the aura around you shifted and the whispering begun again. ‘You’re so close, Y/N. Continue.’ It was a man’s voice. It was so clear. ‘Continue straight, My Love, we’ll be together soon.’ The buzzing began and it only got louder as you continued walking straight. The further you walked, the higher the grass got. It was tickling your calves. It was as if a flash of light opened your eyes when all of the sudden a bunch of tall stones stood tall in front of you, being illuminated by the direct moonlight. The aura surrounding it was calling to you to come closer. “This is what I’ve been looking for.” You beamed with excitement.
The buzzing only got louder as you approached the Stones. The high grass tickled your calves, leaving tiny water droplets on your skin. The buzzing sounded as if it was whispering your name, soft as wind. “Y/N… Y/N…”. It only drew you closer.
The Stones had this silver and golden aura surrounding it. Were you the only one that could sense it? Were you the only one that could hear it? See it? Your thoughts were racing as you stood in front of the tall Stone. You raised your right hand to touch it, as if that was what it was telling you to do. The only thing you could do. For a moment you hesitated, wondering what you were doing, why were you here but it just kept calling out. “Y/N… Y/N…”
You let out a long breath and pressed your palm flat against the rough texture. Within the moment, all sound seized to exist around her, life was dark and as soon as it disappeared, everything reappeared.
128 AC Kingswood
You blinked your eyes fast, letting out a shaky breath. You stumbled backwards and the world wasn’t as you just saw. There were more trees surrounding you. The woods seemed to be more lively than before. “Oh Gods, what did I do.”
From back at the camp, Helaena felt the shift in the air. “Welcome home, Time.” Helaena smiled.
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SOOO what do we think? It’s only getting started and I’m so excited to see where this goes.
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cuddlytogas · 7 months
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So I accidentally almost got into an argument on Twitter, and now I'm thinking about bad historical costuming tropes. Specifically, Action Hero Leather Pants.
See, I was light-heartedly pointing out the inaccuracies of the costumes in Black Sails, and someone came out of the woodwork to defend the show. The misunderstanding was that they thought I was dismissing the show just for its costumes, which I wasn't - I was simply pointing out that it can't entirely care about material history (meaning specifically physical objects/culture) if it treats its clothes like that.
But this person was slightly offended on behalf of their show - especially, quote, "And from a fan of OFMD, no less!" Which got me thinking - it's true! I can abide a lot more historical costuming inaccuracy from Our Flag than I can Black Sails or Vikings. And I don't think it's just because one has my blorbos in it. But really, when it comes down to it...
What is the difference between this and this?
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Here's the thing. Leather pants in period dramas isn't new. You've got your Vikings, Tudors, Outlander, Pirates of the Caribbean, Once Upon a Time, Will, The Musketeers, even Shakespeare in Love - they love to shove people in leather and call it a day. But where does this come from?
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Obviously we have the modern connotations. Modern leather clothes developed in a few subcultures: cowboys drew on Native American clothing. (Allegedly. This is a little beyond my purview, I haven't seen any solid evidence, and it sounds like the kind of fact that people repeat a lot but is based on an assumption. I wouldn't know, though.) Leather was used in some WWI and II uniforms.
But the big boom came in the mid-C20th in motorcycle, punk/goth, and gay subcultures, all intertwined with each other and the above. Motorcyclists wear leather as practical protective gear, and it gets picked up by rock and punk artists as a symbol of counterculture, and transferred to movie designs. It gets wrapped up in gay and kink communities, with even more countercultural and taboo meanings. By the late C20th, leather has entered mainstream fashion, but it still carries those references to goths, punks, BDSM, and motorbike gangs, to James Dean, Marlon Brando, and Mick Jagger. This is whence we get our Spikes and Dave Listers in 1980s/90s media, bad boys and working-class punks.
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And some of the above "historical" design choices clearly build on these meanings. William Shakespeare is dressed in a black leather doublet to evoke the swaggering bad boy artist heartthrob, probably down on his luck. So is Kit Marlowe.
But the associations get a little fuzzier after that. Hook, with his eyeliner and jewellery, sure. King Henry, yeah, I see it. It's hideously ahistorical, but sure. But what about Jamie and Will and Ragnar, in their browns and shabby, battle-ready chic? Well, here we get the other strain of Bad Period Drama Leather.
See, designers like to point to history, but it's just not true. Leather armour, especially in the western/European world, is very, very rare, and not just because it decays faster than metal. (Yes, even in ancient Greece/Rome, despite many articles claiming that as the start of the leather armour trend!) It simply wasn't used a lot, because it's frankly useless at defending the body compared to metal. Leather was used as a backing for some splint armour pieces, and for belts, sheathes, and buckles, but it simply wasn't worn like the costumes above. It's heavy, uncomfortable, and hard to repair - it's simply not practical for a garment when you have perfectly comfortable, insulating, and widely available linen, wool, and cotton!
As far as I can see, the real influence on leather in period dramas is fantasy. Fantasy media has proliferated the idea of leather armour as the lightweight choice for rangers, elves, and rogues, a natural, quiet, flexible material, less flashy or restrictive than metal. And it is cheaper for a costume department to make, and easier for an actor to wear on set. It's in Dungeons and Dragons and Lord of the Rings, King Arthur, Runescape, and World of Warcraft.
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And I think this is how we get to characters like Ragnar and Vane. This idea of leather as practical gear and light armour, it's fantasy, but it has this lineage, behind which sits cowboy chaps and bomber/flight jackets. It's usually brown compared to the punk bad boy's black, less shiny, and more often piecemeal or decorated. In fact, there's a great distinction between the two Period Leather Modes within the same piece of media: Robin Hood (2006)! Compare the brooding, fascist-coded villain Guy of Gisborne with the shabby, bow-wielding, forest-dwelling Robin:
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So, back to the original question: What's the difference between Charles Vane in Black Sails, and Edward Teach in Our Flag Means Death?
Simply put, it's intention. There is nothing intentional about Vane's leather in Black Sails. It's not the only leather in the show, and it only says what all shabby period leather says, relying on the same tropes as fantasy armour: he's a bad boy and a fighter in workaday leather, poor, flexible, and practical. None of these connotations are based in reality or history, and they've been done countless times before. It's boring design, neither historically accurate nor particularly creative, but much the same as all the other shabby chic fighters on our screens. He has a broad lineage in Lord of the Rings and Pirates of the Caribbean and such, but that's it.
In Our Flag, however, the lineage is much, much more intentional. Ed is a direct homage to Mad Max, the costuming in which is both practical (Max is an ex-cop and road warrior), and draws on punk and kink designs to evoke a counterculture gone mad to the point of social breakdown, exploiting the thrill of the taboo to frighten and titillate the audience.
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In particular, Ed is styled after Max in the second movie, having lost his family, been badly injured, and watched the world turn into an apocalypse. He's a broken man, withdrawn, violent, and deliberately cutting himself off from others to avoid getting hurt again. The plot of Mad Max 2 is him learning to open up and help others, making himself vulnerable to more loss, but more human in the process.
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This ties directly into the themes of Our Flag - it's a deliberate intertext. Ed's emotional journey is also one from isolation and pain to vulnerability, community, and love. Mad Max (intentionally and unintentionally) explores themes of masculinity, violence, and power, while Max has become simplified in the popular imagination as a stoic, badass action hero rather than the more complex character he is, struggling with loss and humanity. Similarly, Our Flag explores masculinity, both textually (Stede is trying to build a less abusive pirate culture) and metatextually (the show champions complex, banal, and tender masculinities, especially when we're used to only seeing pirates in either gritty action movies or childish comedies).
Our Flag also draws on the specific countercultures of motorcycles, rockers, and gay/BDSM culture in its design and themes. Naturally, in such a queer show, one can't help but make the connection between leather pirates and leather daddies, and the design certainly nods at this, with its vests and studs. I always think about this guy, with his flat cap so reminiscient of gay leather fashions.
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More overtly, though, Blackbeard and his crew are styled as both violent gangsters and countercultural rockstars. They rove the seas like a bikie gang, free and violent, and are seen as icons, bad boys and celebrities. Other pirates revere Blackbeard and wish they could be on his crew, while civilians are awed by his reputation, desperate for juicy, gory details.
This isn't all of why I like the costuming in Our Flag Means Death (especially season 1). Stede's outfits are by no means accurate, but they're a lot more accurate than most pirate media, and they're bright and colourful, with accurate and delightful silks, lace, velvets, and brocades, and lovely, puffy skirts on his jackets. Many of the Revenge crew wear recognisable sailor's trousers, and practical but bright, varied gear that easily conveys personality and flair. There is a surprising dedication to little details, like changing Ed's trousers to fall-fronts for a historical feel, Izzy's puffy sleeves, the handmade fringe on Lucius's red jacket, or the increasing absurdity of navy uniform cuffs between Nigel and Chauncey.
A really big one is the fact that they don't shy away from historical footwear! In almost every example above, we see the period drama's obsession with putting men in skinny jeans and bucket-top boots, but not only does Stede wear his little red-heeled shoes with stockings, but most of his crew, and the ordinary people of Barbados, wear low boots or pumps, and even rough, masculine characters like Pete wear knee breeches and bright colours. It's inaccurate, but at least it's a new kind of inaccuracy, that builds much more on actual historical fashions, and eschews the shortcuts of other, grittier period dramas in favour of colour and personality.
But also. At least it fucking says something with its leather.
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entitled-fangirl · 2 months
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Luck.
Cregan Stark x reader; Robb Stark x reader
Summary: the reader finds herself far away from Robb and in the arms of his ancestor, Cregan.
A/N: I just started watching Outlander if you couldn't tell.
Part 2!
Masterlist
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She had promised Robb she'd be back by now. 
Gods, he must have been worried sick.
And rightfully so.
She ran as fast as her legs would take her, steering through the various trees of the Godswood.
Chased by wildlings.
She had dropped her blade further back out of fright, and only now was she beginning to curse herself for it. 
The blade encrusted with the Stark emblem on it.
She and Robb had only been married a matter of months after his father's leave of Winterfell and his work as the new Warden of the North in Eddard's place. 
She felt her foot slip and black clouded her vision. 
She awoke to the sound of a horse's snort and a loud cry from a deep voice, "Here, my lord!"
She peeked her eyes open, rubbing them with her hands to adjust to the bright clouds that loomed over them. 
But that sight was soon covered by a silhouette her eyes couldn't quite take in. 
The man bent down as immediately as he had appeared. His hands immediately came to her face. "Thank the gods." 
He was out of breath but a smile managed across his face. He didn't seem like the type to smile. 
He pulled her face close to his and brushed his forehead against hers.
She then noticed the emblem of the heavy fur cloak he wore. 
The Stark wolf. 
When he pulled away from her, his thumbs traced a light pattern on her cheeks.
He was a young man, maybe a bit older than Robb, but it was evident in his stature that he had seen much in his few years. Broad shoulders, a set jaw, and a chill in his eyes that matched the coldest days in the North. 
"Are you hurt?"
Only then did she look around. She was exactly where she had fallen, she knows that. The same root that had tripped her laid not far from her feet. 
"My love," he said again as he grabbed her jaw to make her look at him. "Are you hurt?"
She shook her head. She groaned lightly pushed herself up onto her elbows, "Where… Who-"
"Easy. Tell me what happened." The man cradled her head with his large hand.
"I was… I was praying and… wildings…"
"Wildlings?" He asked in an almost shock. "There were wildlings? Here?"
She nodded and rubbed her face.
The man's relieved expression turned stony once again. He looked up to one of the men with him, "Find them. Bring them to me. I will not have wildlings roaming these woods."
"Yes, Lord Stark." The soldier quickly waved some men and they set off in search.
But Lord Stark looked back to her, "Let us get you back to Winterfell."
She sat up slowly with his aid, her bones ached with movement. "Lord Stark?" She asked rather confused. 
Now closer to him, she watched as his brows furrowed only for a moment before a smirk twitched at his lips, "I thought I told you to stop calling me that."
Her gaze shot back down to the emblem on his cloak, and she dared to raise her fingers to it, tracing the wolf she was so familiar with.
His head tilted as he watched her, "Is everything alright, pretty?"
She looked up to his eyes again, "Do not call me that."
His smirk grew to a grin and a breathy chuckle escaped him, "Why not? Even covered in dirt, you are quite pretty."
"I am married," she rebutted in shock. "To the Warden of the North. You will do well to remember that."
He began to laugh in a true happiness and his hands found her waist, "Yes. Yes, I am quite aware of that fact." He pulled her closer and his voice lowered, "I thank the gods for that simple truth every day."
Her confusion only grew. That jaw and cheekbones. Those brows that remained pinched even in joy. She'd seen a face much like it before. 
In Robb. 
"Back to Winterfell?" She asked as if his previous words had not affected her. 
"Yes. Yes, back to Winterfell." He immediately pulled at the strings of his cloak, letting it fall from his shoulders to his hands and then pulling it around her shivering body. It was quite comical to see the dirt-covered Lady of Winterfell in the oversized cloak of the Stark man. 
The ride back was filled with an awkward silence that loomed over the two. But she knew if she only remained content, she would be taken back to Robb and the walls of her Northern home. 
But as they neared the doors of the city, she couldn't help but feel lost. 
The wood of the doors were a different color entirely. The guards different men that she had previously thought on duty. 
And as their horse walked through the city to the stables, she began to think herself mad. 
Everything was right. The stone, the roads, the atmosphere. But little quirks made her question it all.
Even when the Stark man helped her off the horse and he began to walk alongside her to the enter the castle, she was lost. 
"Something the matter?" He asked.
She looked up to him, meeting his concerned gaze. "No, not at all."
"You were lost in thought."
"Just… happy to see my lord husband is all." She gave a brief smile and looked back to the path.
Robb would ease all her troubles as he always does.
The man chuckled lightly, "You always know what to say don'tcha?"
Every clarification for her only resulted in further confusion.
When they entered the castle, a much younger boy was quick to converse with them, "Cregan! You've found her!"
The Stark man, Cregan she assumed, smiled as the boy neared, "I have. Did you think I'd lose her?"
The boy turned his attention to her, "You promised we'd go exploring today. Where were you?"
Cregan raised a hand to the top of the boy's head, "Easy now, Brandon. She didn't mean it. She was chased by wildlings in the Godswood. You know she never skip time with her favorite Stark."
As she studied Brandon, she saw the Stark resemblance in him. His hair was the color or Eddard's, but curly like Robb's.
"Now, go. I do believe my wife is in need of rest." 
She felt her eyes glaze over. Wife. 
She was so lost that she didn't react to anything until Cregan's hand came to her shoulder. "Seems my brother will never let you alone."
Three days. 
Three days and no further explanation.
Robb's Lady of Winterfell was also married to the Lord of Winterfell generations before. 
Every moment spent in the walls she had once loved only made her more of an imposter. 
The bed she and Robb once shared now shared with another. It seemed so wrong.
But they were so alike it was painful.
Headstrong, and cleverly witty. Full of honor and pride. The same cheeky fucking smile that would make her do anything.
She awoke to the feeling of a light caress on her cheek. 
She opened her eyes with a groggy voice, "Robb…?"
Cregan tilted his head, "Hmm? What was that, pretty?"
She forced herself to awaken a little quicker, "Good morrow, Cregan."
He smiled, "Good morrow. Fancy a journey today?"
"Where to?"
"The Godswood. I need to ensure those wildlings are caught. Figured I could take you along to show me where they were. Only if you feel up to it."
She nodded and rubbed her eyes, "Yes, I… I can manage. Just let me-"
"-Braid your hair. Yes, yes, I know."
Her lips parted slightly. How did he know that? She only braided her hair when going on horseback, a fact Robb had memorized quite early on in their marriage. And so had Cregan, it seemed. 
Her feet quickly retraced her path. Cregan on his horse following closely behind her and his men further back. 
"I believe I saw them… here." She paused and pointed at the rook in the tree not far from them. "There. They were there."
Cregan looked over to his right-hand man, "Start here. She and I will search further up."
Cregan then bent down from his horse and pulled her up and practically into his lap. 
She had never even seen Robb pick her up with such ease. 
The two rode further down the trail until she came to the familiar area. "And you just… fell? Here?"
She looked around until her eyes found the very root that had upended her. "Yes. There."
The two unmounted the horse so Cregan could look in more detail.
His hands found their place on her waist again and his chest pressed to her back, "I am a lucky man."
"I thought Starks don't believe in luck."
His eyes furrowed and he spun her around, "Who told you that?"
Eddard. Her father-by-law had. 
"I dunno. Thought it was… clear. Made the assumption myself."
His lips pulled into a grin. "I like that. That's quite clever."
"I can be quite clever," she jested.
"Oh yes, I know that." He pulled her closer, "I only meant to say that I should thank the gods you're safe. Wildlings are worse than any animal you'd encounter out here. I shouldn't have let you go alone."
To be truthful, she hadn't left alone. Robb never would've allowed it. She had taken Grey Wind, which she only now assumed had protected her. 
She's not sure at all what happened to those wildlings. 
"Pretty girl," Cregan mused. "You think too much."
"There's much to think about."
He paused and studied her in admiration. They were quite close. She could see his eyes roam over her face, taking in every feature.
"My men think I'm too protective of you, you know that?" He finally whispered.
"And are you?"
He chuckled lowly, "You're the prettiest fire I've ever come across." He leaned in until their lips were almost touching, "Think you'll burn me?"
She found herself wanting to lean in, but she didn't know why. "I… I dunno…"
A voice sounded from a distance, "Lord Stark!"
His head snapped to it, and the moment was gone. He brought a hand to her face, "Stay with the horse. Don't go anywhere."
She nodded.
He took a step away from her, studying her entirely now. He bit the inside of his cheek before urging himself toward the sounds.
When he was out of sight, she felt herself finally breathe. 
She grunted softly in thought before taking some steps forward.
"And where do you think you're going?" A new voice commented from behind her.
She felt herself pause. 
Robb.
She turned quickly to the sound.
Robb stood only a few meters away from her with a playful smile on his face. 
When she didn't answer, he raised a brow, "Something wrong, pretty?"
"I've missed you," she blurted out without thought. 
He chuckled, "You saw me only hours ago." He held out his arms, "C'mere."
She immediately rushed forward, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.
He rubbed her back lightly, "You said you'd be back within the hour."
"There was… much to pray about."
"Was there?" He asked in amusement.
She pulled away and looked over her shoulder to the spot Cregan had stood in only moments before. "Yeah… I believe there was."
Robb chuckled again and pulled her to him, "You're lost in thought."
"Just…" she paused. "Happy to see my lord husband is all." She said, now feeling stupid of the repetition from before.
He smiled, "Well, I am most happy to see you as well, pretty."
She felt his scruff as he kissed her forehead. "I'm a lucky woman."
He let out a disapproving hum, "Starks don't believe in luck."
She giggled against his chest, "No. No, they don't."
...................................................................
Part 2
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Thanks @jopkey for tagging me in this fun "getting to know you" game!
Name: Malicious Compliance
Pronouns: They/Them/Theirs
Where do you call home?: Florida, United States
Favorite Animal: Constrictor snakes! My mother also tells me I like "all the weird animals" because of my fondness for spiders, beetles, etc.
Cereal of Choice: I always keep granola around as an easy snack! Especially like when it has almonds, raisins, and dates in the mix.
Visual, auditory, or kinesthetic learner?: I favor a combination of first reading and viewing foundational resources, and then trying a skill myself from that self-teaching above all other methods. If I had to pick one pillar that tends to matter most for me, it would be language across both the written and spoken domains. But things have never been so black and white for me; and being raised by neuroscientists makes me automatically skeptical of rigid thinking about how humans learn.
First Pet: Alison, a goldfish with a nasty habit of eating their tankmates' fins.
Favorite Scent: For general smells, nothing better than a freshly blown-out candle spreading its signature aroma through the surrounding air! For cologne, I've worn Yves Saint Laurent Opium for Men since I was in high school.
Do you believe in astrology?: Depends on what you mean. Do I believe birth timing substantially determines the progression of a person's life or the core traits of their personality? No. Do I think astrology can be a helpful framework for thinking creatively about who we are and why we feel as we do? Yes.
How many playlists do you have on your music service of choice?: On Spotify, which I use for fandom stuff, I maintain playlists for each of my fic continuities. I also have some playlists saved that @i-dwell-in-darkness made for the BJR fandom. On Apple Music I have no playlists whatsoever! I just choose what specific song or album I'd like to listen to if I'm in "specific content" mode; sometimes I also enjoy finding new-to-me artists by exploring Apple's playlists for different genres and eras.
Sharpies or highlighters?: This seems like an "apples or oranges" sort of juxtaposition. I use them for very different purposes, but I do use Sharpies far more frequently and for more diverse functions than highlighters.
Song that makes you cry?: "Dead of Winter" by the Eels can reliably make my eyes tear up. Notable achievement, given I'm not prone to crying. Just the whole Electro-Shock Blues album gets me on a very deep personal level, but this one especially hits hard.
Song that makes you happy?: Playing any of Alice Cooper's music is guaranteed to bring me instant joy. Especially his 70s stuff and anything from his later releases that goes heavy on incorporating those style elements! If I have one "theme song" in life, it's his "Be My Lover" track off 1971's Killer.
And finally, do you write/draw/create?: Yes, absolutely. Both fanworks and many other things, from academic publications to magazine articles to poetry and original prose. Writing is a huge part of both my leisure and my vocation. It feels like breathing to me and I do some form of writing every single day. Usually multiple forms! The one exception is those rare occasions when I'm so profoundly ill physically that I have to stay in bed and spend the day mostly sleeping. I am very stubborn, so that is not a lot of days. If I can sit up, I can write on my laptop or phone in bed. I also used to draw, mostly portraits in charcoal. Sadly my disease did take that from me because of how it has destroyed the blood vessels in my hands. Gripping small objects for any prolonged period of time is horribly painful and will cause lasting issues with my hand function. Even filling out a card by hand creates consequences for the remainder of that day. It's tough, but I don't dwell on this. Too much other joy in the world. If I lost the ability to write by any means, though? That would absolutely be the point where I stopped wanting to live at all.
I'm really curious to see responses from @tucsonhorse and @blindbeholder if y'all feel like joining in!
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eorzeashan · 1 year
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Fun little headcanon time: you know how Eight is never seen without his headgear/headset as pictured here, which also comes with that built-in high neck collar?
Besides being protection, it replaces a regular wristcom that needs to be activated by touching your glove because he's usually always using his hands. It's clearly for communications, but it's also a two-way hands free radio and tracking device; obvious mouthpiece and earphones for receiving audio and then the collar most likely contains thin speakers. Though I would prefer to remove the antenna on the back of his suit, you can pretend that's also to keep his signal running (lol portable 5G).
I like to think he likes to wear it because it keeps his eardrums safe and it's better to use when he hates looking at holos/doesn't use wristcoms, but was upgraded to a two-way radio with tracking in KOTFE/ET as per request to Oggurobb because Lana realized he'd run off without telling anyone if given no supervision, and in addition, had poor diplomacy skills so she wanted to be able to talk to whoever he was from her end, but then Theron argued with her over being controlling and now there's a direct line to both of them in his headset.
In other words, the sound of Theron and Lana squabbling over the same line coming from his attached radio only to be shut off abruptly by him was a scenario that happened often.
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shiny-jr · 5 months
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not my world [ prologue ]
– Summary: One day you wake in a foreign world with nothing to your name except the clothes on your back. A talking cat named Grim, gives you your only lead to return home. Seek out the seven gods and pray they answer your plea.
– Warning: Yes, this series is a yandere thing, although this post really isn't. Gender-neutral reader.
– Characters: Grim.
– Note: Think of this like a test, just to see how it's received. Yes, this is based off that outlander post I made a while ago. I was thinking I could make this a long-lasting series. However, it really depends how y'all like it. There's not too much going on here, because I'm trying to set the scene and I wrote it all fairly quickly. However, it's just a small taste. So, let me know what y'all think.
– Pages: 11
“So… you’re saying that you woke up here on this beach with no explanation, but you’re from another world so you have no idea where you are? You fell asleep in your own bed, in your own home, and now you’re here, with no way to go back?” 
As far fetched as it sounded, you could only grimly nod. A dream, this should’ve just been a nightmare. But that was confirmed to be false when you pinched yourself multiple times and tried to splash yourself with the nearby ocean water. Everything felt so real, from the sand between your toes to the breeze in the air and the sunlight drying the water off the surface of your flesh. You wanted it to be nothing but a dream, especially when you found a talking cat with a forked tail and blue fire in his ears. 
This was your third attempt trying to explain things to this impish but rather harmless little furball, and each time he seemed more puzzled than the last. His little black nose twitched as he sat in front of you, his paws digging into the sand as those strange eyes of his studied you closely. His voice was grating, high-pitched, speaking with a tone of doubt. “You don’t look like you’re from any of the seven nations. No pointed ears, no beast features, not even a magestone to your name! Well, it makes sense. A nobody like you obviously wouldn’t have a magestone anyways.” 
That was probably meant to be an insult, but considering you didn’t even know what a magestone was, you didn’t really take any offense at all. Pointed ears, beast features, magestones, annoying talking cats– you really didn’t care about any of that. “Because I’m not from whatever seven nations there are. I already told you where I’m from.” 
“Yeah, well I never heard of wherever it was you said. So get lost, would you, human? I’ve claimed this beach alrea–” 
A low growl rang in the air. Swiftly you scanned your surroundings, fearful that you were about to be attacked by some mythical beast. However, when you looked back to the feline who now looked quite ashamed, you realized the noise came from his stomach. Actually, the little fellow seemed pretty scrawny, and you could just barely make out the shape of his ribs poking out of his sides. 
Standing up, you brushed off the sand clinging to the oversized t-shirt you fell asleep in. Thankfully, you at least had sandals, which was better than waking up here barefoot. With one look around, there didn’t appear to be anyone for miles, and no sign of civilization here. Leaving the cat as your only option to turn to, as jarring as it was to be speaking to a cat. “Er… Look, if you could at least help me find people, a shelter, a city, something– then I’ll see about getting you something to eat. Deal?” 
“I don’t need your help! But… I’m curious, so I’ll follow anyway.” 
“Great…” You sigh, as you decide to follow a path that leads away from the shoreline and into woodlands. At the very least, you were not completely alone. This would be much more terrifying if you had woken up and there was absolutely no one around. “So, do you have a name or are you, like, feral?” 
“I’m not feral!” It hissed as it walked in tandem beside you, keeping up with your steady pace. “Since I am so great, I will allow you to know my name. I am the all-mighty Grim! One-of-a-kind and destined to one day become strong, powerful enough to defeat even the seven gods!” 
“Seven gods…?” Was this some sort of fantasy setting? It had to be. First he mentioned pointed ears and beast-people, and you were having a conversation with a talking cat! Maybe seven gods were the least outlandish thing you’ve heard today. “Well, I’m (Y/n).” 
“You’ve never heard of The Seven? How stupid could you be?” 
You frowned at his toothy little grin as he ridiculed you for your knowledge on a place you just ended up in. “Well excuse me for not knowing anything about this place I just ended up in!” Tearing your gaze away, you saw a cabin up ahead. It appeared abandoned, so there wasn’t any hope of seeing another person yet. Still, there may be something useful inside, so you approach. 
Trying the knob, you found the lock jammed. The wood of the front door was rotting, some of it in splitters and the windows were shattered. With a few strong kicks, the door became dislodged and finally gave way beneath the pressure. 
“You’re excused– hey! Tuna!” You didn’t even bother stopping the feline when he rushed into the abandoned cabin, sprinting after the few cans of tuna he spotted on an old table. At least he would get to eat. 
You didn’t particularly care for canned fish that’s been sitting there for who knows how long. In practically a blink of the eye he had devoured three whole cans of the stuff and licked the remnants off of his whiskers. 
“Okay, okay, since I feel so bad for you, and because you found these tuna cans, I’ll be your guide. That way, I don’t owe you nothin’ after this! Maybe one day, if you’re still around, you’ll see me ascend to the ranks among the archons and you can brag like I knew him! Isn’t Grim so cool and praise worthy? I might even remember you and accept your prayers! You can thank me now.” 
At his smug expression, you squinted incredulously as he began walking down the path in the middle of the woods once more. Following hesitantly, thankful there was daylight and this seemed like a particularly nice forest, save for the very depths of it further away from the road that were dark due to the cover of leaves and branches above. However, the trees closest to you weren’t so dense, and the sunlight filtered through the thin foliage. The dirt road was wide, but slightly covered with scattered blades of grass and underbrush, as if no one had used it in a long while. Squirrel-like critters darted about in trees, strange fruits hung on low-branches, and foreign flowers sprouted alongside little ponds. 
“I’ll thank you after an explanation and a little help. So, what’s this about gods?” 
“Let’s see… I’ll put it so simple that even a baby can understand! There are seven nations, and each one has a god. These gods are super-powerful! I’m talking crazy-strong, like they can level mountains and raise the sea type of miracles!” 
As he strolled beside you, his forked-tail swished back and forth. For now it seemed like he knew where he was going, so hopefully that was a good sign. Right now, you had no idea what to do or how to get home. However, if magic existed in this realm, then surely there would be some way to get back. There had to be, for your own peace of mind. 
“Maybe if you pray to one, you’ll get an answer. But the chances of that are pretty much zero, because only idiots rely on the gods since they almost never answer. You’d have a better chance trying to actually meet one of them and try to talk to them in person, but good luck with that!” 
As the road neared a cliff, you caught a glimpse of the scenery. It was a kingdom, a whole city that began right at the edge of a vast meadow. The rolling valley ended at a river, across a wide stone bridge where the city began. Miles and miles of cobblestone roads lined with two to three-story buildings, and rising above it all was a white palace with red conical roofs that pierced the very sky. It looked fantastical, like something straight out of a peculiar little story book, especially considering how unnaturally bright the flowers were and how there was the occasional mushroom as tall as a tree. 
Never before in your entire life had you ever seen a single place like this. Some stupid naive little part of yourself had hoped that perhaps you were still in your world, but this was simply proof that tore that little shred of hope to bits. “What is this place…?” 
He paused to scratch a spot behind his ear. “That’s the capital city of Heartslabyul. You see that big palace all the way over there? That’s where the god of fire lives. One day, I’m gonna live in a place even bigger, grander, than that! My worshippers will build, brick by brick, a towering temple that reaches the very heavens! It’ll make that palace look puny in comparison!” 
Dumbfounded, you nearly get left behind in your stupor once the feline begins to walk down a rocky slope again. You follow, as Grim yammered on and on, “Fire is harsh, just like that place. Trust me, I tried staking a claim there, but I was kicked out! Can you believe it? Me! They just threw me out as if I were nothing! Anyways, I already forgot what you were looking for, but whatever it is, you’ll probably find something there––” 
“A way home?” You reminded him, a tiny bit irked that he seemed to forget so easily. For such a haughty little beast with nothing to his name, he was very conceited. 
“Ooh yeah, right. That. Gods have all this magic and wisdom from their years and stuff, so they gotta know something. But if I were a god, I wouldn’t answer you, to be honest.” 
Grumpily you point out the obvious. This cat-like creature was far from the divine that you were currently picturing. “You’re not a god.” 
Yowling in response, Grim shot back with irritation, “Yet! Not a god yet!” When he spat, a small puff of smoke and a spark of flames he tried to aim at the dirt caused his blue ear flames to flicker stronger until one stray flame popped like a hot scorching coal. It went flying directly at your face, and all you could do was react quickly enough to try and step back while your arms and hands covered your face. 
However, no pain ever came. “How are you doing that?!” 
“Doing what? And you need to watch it with––” When you began to lower your arms, you saw it. When you had shielded yourself, your knuckles had been against your cheek and so your palm was facing outward. Floating in your open palm, was that small spark that came from his ears and nearly burned you. Immediately your eyes widened, and the surprise didn’t end there. As if fluctuating with your shock, the fire became a small yet harsh monetary crackling burst that caused both you and the feline to yelp and stumble back in disbelief until your palms were normal once again. 
“You big fat liar! You do know magic! Where’s your magestone?” 
Seeing his gray fur stand on edge, you quickly answered, seemingly just as confused as he currently was. “I-I don’t, I swear! I don’t even have a wizardstone! That has never happened to me before! This, magic, stuff like that, talking cats, huge mushrooms, none of this is supposed to be real!” 
“Magestone! Not wizardstone! M-A-G-E!” 
“Same difference, what do I care?” You had to double-check your hands, wanting to trick yourself again into believing it was something that could be easily explained. Yet this didn't seem like that. This was something else entirely that didn’t make sense, it couldn't be explained. Not while you were still reeling and staring at your own two hands in utter disbelief. “What the hell was that…?” 
Sniffing the air around you, Grim paced slowly around you as his whiskers twitched with each sniff. After several rounds circling you, he plopped down in front of you and peered up at you quizzically. “I really don’t smell a magestone on you… but you used my fire! It was blue! Everyone knows you can’t use magic without one! Wait a moment… this is perfect!” Immediately brightening up, the little creature gave a toothy grin as he declared, “From now on, you will be my servant! One day when I am a god, I will make you a demi-god! Everyone knows the great gods have divine or mystic servants of some kind! So you will be my henchman! Count yourself blessed, human.” 
“What…?” For now you didn’t even want to touch anything, especially yourself. What if you just tapped something and it was set ablaze? Although you felt fine physically, you were not completely okay. Mentally your mind was scrambled with trying to comprehend everything going on and being said, and now you had the additional burden of accidentally burning everything you touched. 
“Maybe it has to do with the fact that you aren’t from here, so this world’s rules don’t even apply to you… yeah, that’s it! This is great! Does this mean you can wield other elements? We should try! If it storms tonight, we’ll stand at the highest cliff and wait for lightning to strike!” 
“Definitely not!” You screech in reply, currently trying to prevent yourself from panicking and having a destructive mental breakdown all at the same time. Keeping your arms away from your body and fingers spread apart, you tentatively try grabbing stones and sticks and blades of grass to test the ability and see if anything would be set ablaze. And yet, nothing happened, so you slowly began to relax, as much as was possible in that moment. 
Grim watched with great intrigue, hoping, wishing, to see you burn something straight with your hands. However, when he saw not a single spark or sign of smoke, he sighed, “Don’t you realize the possibilities! A small chosen few can wield magic like that, and even then, it’s only one element! This means that you might be able to do more! We’ll be legendary, beating every foe we come across!” 
“Woah, woah, woah, who said anything about beating foes?” Cutting off that idea right now before it would get out of hand. It had only been a few minutes, not even an hour, and even you could see that Grim was a handful. “I am no fighter. If I magically somehow have these weird abilities now, doesn’t mean I want to fight with them. Are you insane? The most I’ll do is like… instantly heat up my food or make a light in the dark. That’s it. Actually, that first one sounds pretty useful…” 
Angrily throwing his paws up in exasperation while falling back on some patches of grass, he groaned, “Ugh, but that’s so boringggg! Where’s your creativity? You could become a god among gods!” 
Choosing to ignore his less than enthusiastic response, you proceeded, drawing his attention back to something he recently mentioned. Awkwardly you grip your hands, twisting your wrist between your fingers, yet nothing hurts. Everything felt normal, as if you hadn’t just wielding fire a minute ago. “You said a god of fire resided over there in that city, right?” 
“Yeah, you’ll fit right in with all those hot-headed fire-breathers now that you have a bit of magic.” 
As the two of you neared the bottom of the cliff and approached a smaller section of the forest that would lead directly to the road that branched off into either a vast meadow or the gates of the kingdom, the world seemed to stop when a loud rumbling rang through the air. The birds ceased their singing songs and the squirrelish creatures paused their chittering chattering. The ground shook and in the far distance, miles and miles behind the palace where there looked to be nothing but untamed wilderness, balls of fire spewed forth from what you had thought were mountains but were actually volcanoes. Seeing the smoke pour out from the peak, you debated running right back to the beach which was in the opposite direction of the rupture in the earth. 
While initially startled, Grim quickly relaxed and began his walking again just as the sounds of nature resumed their tune. As if by some miraculous work of magic, the volcano stopped its rumbling just as quickly as it began, and the smoke receded as well. Like a pot popping on a stovetop and simmering over with water, but its vapor and contents contained by a top, that’s how rapidly it started and ended. Grim proceeded to walk in front of you to lead the way. Sensing your question before you even voiced it, he called out over his shoulder, 
“Don’t look so panicked, we’re not gonna die. That happens like once a week. It used to be more sparse but… well, like I said, all the humans in the kingdom are a buncha hotheads. Especially their king! Everyone knows the god of pyro has the worst temper of all the seven, that’s why the volcanoes go off when he’s all angry! All you gotta do is gather up the courage to ask him what you want to know, and pray that he doesn’t incinerate you where you stand.”
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starlit-typewriter · 5 months
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Genshin SAGAU, Creator of Teyvat, but not Humanity Part 3
Someone did ask for the Fatui's opinion on the creator and well, this isn't quite that, but there are a couple of hints.
Warning for spoilers up to 4.6
Masterlist |Prev Part | Next Part
~~~
One of the biggest ironies in your admittedly rather long Genshin playing career was that you were not a “Try Hard,” at least you didn’t consider yourself that. You already spend enough time being teased as a lore fanatic and a completionist without adding that title on.
While you’d still level up your characters and try Spiral Abyss every once in a while, as long as they could handle the overworld content you were content.
It wasn't that you didn’t enjoy domain farming, not that there’s much there to enjoy. It was just an odd feeling of discontent when you spent too much time farming for a specific character.
Well, it’s not that odd you supposed. Plenty of people change their main dps all the time when they get bored with a current playstyle. 
For you, well it happened with supports as well.
Case in point, Zhongli.
The illustrious retired geo archon.
More specifically, his terrible build.
Well, actually the build didn’t bother you all that much since you didn’t use him very much, but it did bother one of your friends.
For context, that friend is a Zhongli simp so it makes sense that they would complain at your half built Zhongli with missing artifacts and half leveled talents. 
It didn’t matter since you didn’t use him.
But you couldn’t put your finger on why.
There was just something about him that you didn’t feel comfortable using.
It’s not that you didn’t know how to play his kit, that accusation is both untrue and hurtful.
He just felt off.
Actually, it’s not just Zhongli that provokes this feeling.
All the Archons do.
You could always come up with an excuse to bench them almost immediately after getting them.
Venti’s kit is too reliant on his burst,
Zhongli’s kit is useless if you know how to dodge,
Raiden could be replaced with Fischl,
So on and so forth.
But you know those aren't the truth, not the full truth at least. 
If you didn’t like these characters you wouldn’t have pulled for them. But a part of yourself is still uncomfortable with playing them.
It’s maddening.
Why are you benching perfectly fine characters that you’ve spent your hard earned primogems on?
No idea.
It’s like you’re possessed everytime you try to use them. A small angry part of you just hates them, which would be fine if it appeared before you pulled for them, but it only appears after you’ve wasted months of work of saving primogems on a character you won’t use. 
The entire situation is just so dumb.
You stared at your screen where your wishing team stood.
The newest Fatui Harbinger had just been released and from your playthrough of her trial and story quest, she seems very interesting.
You positioned them outside the house of the hearth and switched over to the wishing page.
It was a bit silly to have a ritual, but you couldn’t deny that it was fun to set this up.
A quick check to your primogem counter and you pressed Wish
~~~
The Knave exhaled, watching as her breath condensed into a white puff air in front of her.
Even after all these years, she never truly enjoyed the cold the way a Sneznayan would. However, this time was much different than the other times she’s made the trip.
If she concentrated, she could feel it, a tiny flame sitting in her chest.
A blessing,
She was never one for worship, her childhood in the house of the hearth had taught her to value strength rather than gods. 
They beat in obedience to the Tsaritsa of course, as an organization run outside of Snezhnaya, it wouldn’t do for the illustrious homeland to doubt their loyalties.
But this was different.
Everyone was quite surprised when rumors of an outlander running across Teyvat started popping up, of course with Signora’s brief meeting with them, they didn’t seem like they were much of a threat, however with Tartaglia’s report following the mission to retrieve the Geo Gnosis, things became much different.
It was clear that their potential to grow stronger was many times that of normal vision holders, and apparently had the ability to pass on that same potential onto others.
It had taken the Mondstatian and Liyuenian agents and embarrassingly long time to realize that those whose abilities had skyrocketed were more than just particularly talented vision holders, and in fact had an actual connection.
Namely the Traveler.
And the fools couldn’t even get that part correct since Lyney managed to figure out, within a few days of meeting the Traveler might she add, that they were not in fact that one that granted that potential, or blessing as some have been calling it. 
It seemed that they weren’t sure why this was happening any more than the rest of Teyvat, not that they didn't have their own theories she was sure, everyone has their own secrets and the Traveler seemed particularly adept at keeping their own close to their chest.
It was quite irritating as well, considering how Tartaglia’s battle skills have improved by leaps and bounds since receiving that same blessing.
Not that it helped all that much with their research, considering how battle obsessed the man is, she pitied the poor researchers in charge of getting him to sit down for an examination.
At least he went through it first and satisfied the majority of their curiosity before her children were blessed.
She already had a difficult enough time rejecting Dottore’s ideas for new collaborative projects they could work on. The last thing she needed was for him to have an actual excuse to get his hands on one of her children.
As good as a poker face Lynette had, Arlecchino could still see through her, it was clear she was worried about how this blessing may impact their operations.
Thankfully it was very little, as she wasn’t stupid enough to go around flaunting her newfound strength like other people.
Even so,
She rubbed at her own chest, feeling slightly discomforted by its presence.
It wasn’t malevolent, at least not so far.
From the Fatui’s extensive research it seems to be connected to an ancient god.
The ancient god.
It wasn’t something that concerned her until her children got involved, and well.
The information was interesting.
There are still many gaps in their information, which makes sense considering that it spanned the time before human existence.
The creator,
The unknown, unnamed creator of Teyvat.
Arlecchino let out a mirthless chuckle, if things were truly going the way it seemed, well.
Then there'd be no need for Project Stuzha after all.
Her gaze flickered to the side as Fatui members ran around the deck, preparing for docking. 
It seems that the first leg of this trip was over.
Her boots crunched as she stopped onto the pier, it never truly stops snowing in Snezhnaya. 
Thankfully she didn’t have to stay standing in the elements for long, as there was a prepared automatic carriage waiting, ready to take her to Zapolyarny Palace.
One of Sandrone’s more “useful” toys, no horses, no wheels, and heating on the inside as well. It glided on the snow as smooth as can be.
The knave leaned back in her seat, looking as elegant as can be, when in reality her mind was very much in turmoil.
 There would no doubt be many questions for her once she arrived at the palace, questions that she sadly had no answer to.
In all their research it was clear that the blessing was only for those that the Traveler favored, or at the very least those with whom they were on good terms.
Lynette and Freminet were never overt with their Fatui ties when spending time with the Traveler, and their youth made it easy for people to drop their guard around them. 
Even Tartaglia has his own boyish charm to him, and even he reported that he did not receive the blessing until after the Traveler had seen his softer side, babysitting his brother all day and seeing him sick and vulnerable.
But her,
She never showed such weakness.
While the Traveler did become privy to her past and her connections with her children, she did not view those as weaknesses.
The opposite actually, since their duel had proved that the Traveler had yet to reach her level. 
Not that it would take long, considering how fast they improved, she wouldn’t be surprised if they would be able to give Il Capitano a run for his money soon enough.
This whole affair was made far more frustrating than it needed to be. 
It just added another layer of complication to an already delicate operation; she's sure that Dottore will try to use as his chance to examine her further to see if this blessing could have any effects on her curse. As if she doesn't know her own body’s condition by now.
Regardless, it was of no true concern for her, merely another weapon in her arsenal.
Whom she was truly concerned for was Lyney.
The late bloomer in that little trio, the last one to receive a vision and, it seems in this case, blessings as well.
Not that there was any guarantee that he’d receive a blessing, there were many who’ve met the Traveler and failed to receive a blessing.
Of course the criteria is a bit more strict than that, but there is no true rhyme or reason behind it.
From what they’ve managed to extrapolate, all those who were blessed must have two things in common, a vision and a meaningful interaction with the Traveler. 
What a frustratingly vague criteria for such a massive boon.
Even so, she’d seen the glimpse of frustration and jealousy once she revealed that she’d received hers.
Not that it made that much of a difference, while the blessing is no doubt incredibly beneficial, as she’d told him before, she didn’t choose him for his combat prowess, but for his desire to protect his family. 
But of course children don’t listen.
She expected to have another talk with him soon.
The carriage slowed as it neared the palace, it was still daytime sadly so there was no aurora for her to see, it would’ve been fitting after all if she could see them on her way back from saying goodbye to Clervie. 
She’ll have to stay up late tonight it seems.
Not that she would’ve been able to sleep early anyways, her coworkers always seem to take joy in piling her up to her ears with paperwork the second her foot touches Snezhayan snow.
How terribly tedious.
Arlecchino could not stifle the sigh when she saw exactly who greets her at the gates.
Standing here, ignoring all the gawking soldiers was no other than the youngest of them. Wearing his winter coat he waves at her eagerly, clearly excited.
She could already foresee where this was going.
She shuts off his train of inquiry with a sharp “No,” the second he opened his mouth.
He pouts, following after her as she strides into the palace, her heels clicking.
“You didn’t even hear me out,” he complained, keeping pace with her.
“I already know what you were about to say, and see no interest in entertaining this train of thought,”
He sighs, dramatically, “I’ve never had the chance to spar with another Blessed before, can you blame me for being excited?”
“You have sparred with the Traveler on a couple of occasion if I recall correctly,”
“That’s different and you know it,” 
Still it seems that he is not willing to pressure her on the issue any longer, perhaps he is finally gaining some much needed maturity, or that her displeasure with the situation is showing more than she’d prefer.
Still that does not seem to stop him from gawking at her like a new toy.
“You don’t seem particularly pleased with your blessing,” he said, after a short pause.
The Knave lets her silence speak for her,
“Yikes, and considering Dottore was so hopeful that he’d get one when he made his trip to Sumeru. Using his original segment no less,”
“What that man wants is of no concern to me as long as long as it does not involve me,”
“Still, the Tsaritsa hasn’t made any proclamation about these blessings, makes me wonder what she’s planning,” 
“I’m sure her majesty has her one plans in place,” she replies noncommittally,
“I’m sure she does, after all two of her Harbingers have already been blessed, think of how much more powerful the Fatui would be if more of us were,”
“You sound as if you wish for our fellow Harbingers to share this same blessing,” 
“Well, won’t that be a sight. Imagine the Fatui Harbingers traveling across Teyvat to get into the good graces of the Traveler.”
“It sounds like the premise for one of those Inazuman light novels,” she commented lightly
“Right!” Tartaglia snickered to himself, before the two settled into a pensive silence.
“You never answered my question you know, and I don’t mean the one about a spar” he defended, raising his arms in a gesture of innocence. 
The Knave stopped, causing him to stop too.
Usually she wouldn’t entertain his questions, but
This one was poignant. 
Why did she feel so unsettled by this blessing, 
Well the answer was simple,
“Power does not come without a price, just because the price for this power has not revealed itself yet, does not mean I’m willing to relax my guard.”
Tartaglia’s mouth opened and closed a couple times, he didn’t seem to have a response for her. 
When it became clear to him that she wasn’t about to move and that their conversation was over, he excused himself, heading to his wing of the palace.
She turned her gaze to one of the nearby windows, she could barely see her reflection in the clear glass, her blood red eyes stared back at her, a constant reminder of her bloodline and powers.
Beyond that it was simply the frozen tundra that was Snezhnaya, whirling winds and snow, nothing but an empty expanse of white.
But for a moment, between blinks, she could’ve sworn she saw someone.
A figure,
Then they were gone.
She knew there was someone there, but she couldn’t for the life of her remember what they looked like. 
Were they tall or short,
Male or female,
What clothes were they wearing, or even what color,
Nothing.
It seems that the stress of traveling had caught up to her.
She scanned the landscape again,
Nothing.
Still white and pristine and untouched, no sign of any human disturbance. 
How very odd.
~~~
Masterlist |Prev Part | Next Part
~~~
A Taglist For those who've requested it!
@bunniotomia, @lucid-stories, @ymechi
Pls tell me if i'm doing this correctly.
If you'd like to be added feel free to send me an ask!
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