#deep gnomes more like peak gnomes

[nucleqr]

here to prove to you guys that little tavs are actually peak

[minecraftbookshelf]

(marriage of state) you've mentioned a couple times that the Rivendell siblings are pretty fucked up, but i'm not sure if they're like, an unusual amount of fucked up for their peer group. so on a scale of 1 to 10, where would you place all of the marriage of state rulers? are there any particular standouts we should know about, besides our beloved Scott and Xornoth?

I waited to answer this because I was going to draw a diagram but apparently that's just not going to happen right now so we'll just use our words.

Not Actually Doing Too Badly, Weirdly Enough:

Pearl. We love an unbothered queen. She is the sanest of the whole lot which is. Saying something. The desire to punch things in the face is unrelated to any sort of trauma its just her idea of a good time.

By the time of the main arc, Lizzie also fits here. She's dealt with most of her issues already. She knows who she is and she is comfortable with it. (Almost no one else is but that's not her problem)

Joel is vibing. An unbothered king. Living his best life, happily married. Definitely Unhinged but like, weirdly healthy about it.

Would Be Doing Fine If Not For Plot:

Shrub Berry was having a very normal time as a very normal gnome up until they very suddenly weren't so like, there is technically some fucked up-ness but its very recent and hasn't settled in yet. There is hope.

Jimmy has 99 problems and most of them are named fWhip and Mythical Sausage. A little insecure but like, he's got a supportive family and is doing alright.

There Is Something Wrong With You But Its Hard To Tell If It Has A Specific Root Cause Or If You Are Just Like That TM/Cumulative Effects of Your Environment:

Joey was raised in a temple under threat of assassination and also all kinds of magical things with strong potential to kill him but like, other than that he's doing alright he's just. Him.

Believe it or not the only thing Wrong with Mythical J Sausage is that he was raised in a family where power-hungry imperialism is the norm. Its mitigated somewhat by being close with Pearl especially but also like. He had loving supportive parents they just also taught him that Mythland is superior and the peak of civilization.

fWhip also falls into this category. He also had a good supportive, loving family but is also very undeniably one half-step in the wrong direction away from going full supervillain. Maybe its the redstone poisoning, maybe its being pushed into a position of leadership at too young an age with absolutely no preparation or even real warning.

Very Clearly Has Something Wrong With Them but Is Pretending So Hard to be Normal:

The Rivendell Siblings think they are doing so good at being normal. Especially Scott. Scott things he is The Most Normal. Everyone else is Very Very Concerned. Sucky parents, sucky situation what with the whole gods and possessions and prophecies thing. Religious Trauma personified x2

The only person who thinks they are More Normal than the Rivendell siblings is Gem. She is pretending so hard to be normal she's convinced herself of it. Beneath her traditional Wizard Character Faults (arrogance, tunnel vision) are some very deep-seated abandonment issues and self-loathing and identity issues.

Seems Very Normal Until You Realize Holy Shit You Are So Fucked Up Please Get Help:

Katherine Elizabeth was raised similarly to Sausage except her mother was not loving or supportive and instead of attempting to shield her from the uglier side of politics and power plays actively exposed her to them and trained her to commit them. The mortals that live around the Overgrown borders were very very lucky that Katherine decided early on that she likes mortals. Just like she likes sheep!

Pixlriffs. Just. Pixlriffs.

[quillfulwhimsyverse]

The Act of Faking

Word count: 7,2k

Summary: George is not talking to Fred, and the only way Fred thinks this can be salvageable, is by faking a relationship with you. Or when you hear his request - faking him having feelings for you.

Warnings: Angst towards the end.

A/N: I am literally going to kill myself. I had a plan for this to be the perfect slowed paced slow burn, were relationship builds slowly and beautifully but then I just ran out of ideas and this is what happened. And to remind you - English is not my first language so most of the times I just stared at the page trying to come up with different descriptions rather than using the ones everybody knows by heart. So I am sorry. Please enjoy.

P.S I am very sad that I found out about the "5 Acts of Play " stature at the end of writing this one-shot. I could've used it to make the story more interesting. But oh fucking well… _______________________________

One thing that everybody in Hogwarts knew, - the Weasley twins were always together. One never went anywhere without another. They also never had any serious arguments, only slight disagreements that seemed to be forgotten pretty soon after.  

That was why you currently frowned looking at the door. Fred came into the Great Hall looking tired, confused and disappointed to say the least. You closed your book, your interest peaking. He only looked like that when he'd gotten himself into detention that overlaps with Quidditch practice. 

‘So what happened to you?’ you asked as Fred moved to sit in front of you at the Gryffindor table. He looked really upset. ‘Prank gone wrong?’

‘No, I wish tho.’ He sighed. ‘It’s George. I haven’t had a single conversation with him for what seems like days.’ 

‘You never fight.’ you mentioned, as Fred was taking a gulp of juice from your glass. 

"We haven’t gotten into a fight, Y/N, he just dumbly avoids me. When I try to talk to him, he mumbles something about guilt trips and at the next moment he’s gone.’ He started fidgeting with his wand. 

‘How come? Why would he “guilt trip”?’

“Well our dear best friend, Geroge,” Fred mumbled irritably, for a moment you thought he might snap, “had gotten himself a girlfriend, bet you didn’t know that, right?” you only nodded. “Well apparently nobody knew, including me.”

“Yeah…” you bit your lip. “I still don’t see what the problem is.”

“I will tell you what the problem is… The problem is that I accidentally caught him snogging Angelina off in the Quidditch pitch.” You looked at him trying not to show too much emotion. “That wanker wanted to keep it a secret, because he thought I might get hurt.”

“Well, I kinda understand why he kept it a secret.” You waited for his reaction, but he only looked at you blankly, waiting for you to continue. “Weren’t you, like, in love with her a couple of years ago?”

“Yeah, so?” he shook his head. “ I was, that’s the point, Y/N. Was. I am not. Not anymore. I wouldn’t care if they got married tomorrow.” He rested his head in his hands, slowly massaging his forehead. 

“Have you told him this?” 

“Yeah… Like a dozen bloody times. He doesn’t believe me, though. Says “I am only saying this to make him feel better.” How many times, do ya reckon, I would have to repeat this to make him believe it?”  

“Hmmm..” you thought for a second. “Just give him a bit of time, maybe that will solve something?” you suggested. 

“Just give him time…” he repeated your words to you. “How do you assume I should do that? With the Christmas holiday upcoming? Although, I think he would rather spend the whole time with the gnomes instead of me in the same room.” 

You stayed silent for a moment. Now that you have thought about it, you haven’t seen George for a couple of days too. 

“But.” Fred lifted his eyebrows and took a deep breath.” I have a little plan.” He quickly reached for his bag and pulled a letter out of it. “ This morning I got a letter from my mother, about my bad behavior in class and yada yada yada, but she did mention inviting you to stay over during holidays. And this, dear Y/N, sparked a thought in me.” 

You shifted uncomfortably on the bench. 

“You and I,” he pointed towards you and then towards himself. “We are going to fake being in a relationship. Over your stay at The Burrow.”

“Fred.” you snapped quickly. “You’re crazy.” 

“Why? I mean, it’s a good plan. Angelina will be going home during holidays, and George will be forced to be with his family instead, and we’re going to pull a little show for him, just enough, so he would drop this stupid avoidance game he is playing.” 

You frowned at your best friend. 

“You have a perfect opportunity to talk to him during the holidays and you want to spend it playing a pretend game?” you ask him as he nods. “Yeah, well there is a slight problem in your plan. We have never ever acted romantically towards each other, and George isn’t so stupid, he won’t believe it. He spent so much time with both of us together, so he will notice that there’s just no spark, or whatever.” 

“That is exactly where you are going to help me,” he stated. “Your mother is muggle, right? You mentioned once that she is really into those romantic books muggle people read? What do you call them? Noveelies?” 

“Novels, Fred.” 

“Yeah, whatever, not the point. You said you were into them when you were younger. So what I’m trying to say is that you will help me put this act together, so it looks convincing.”

You look agape at him. 

“You’ve thought this through, haven’t you?”

“I had too much time on my hands with my brother successfully avoiding me, I’ve even opened the Transfiguration book a couple of times out of boredom. Closed it pretty soon after, it was even more boring than doing absolutely nothing.” 

“Still, Fred, no. It’s your whole family that will notice this as well and I don’t want to lie to Molly. And anyways, how would explain the sudden break up after the Holidays. And… Oh my god… Ron and Ginny will literally tease me to death. This is a really stupid plan, Fred, no one is going to believe it anyway. Just think of something else, I dunno, talk to Angie and make her help you out or something.”

“How am I supposed to talk to Angelina when she is almost always with George nowadays? I knew you would think the plan is stupid, but look - you are my best friend, right? I know you inside out, it would be much easier to pretend we’re in love.”

You look skeptically at him. You wanted to help him, you really did, but this plan was bound to fail one way or another. You very well knew how he flirts and acts with other girls, the last thing you wanted - to accidentally fall for him for his stupid act. 

“No.” You started packing your book into your bag, not looking at him.

“Then at least let me act as if I had fallen for you, you won’t have to do anything, just help me out to put the act together, so it looks convincing enough for George, c’mon, Y/N, you know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.” You let your eyelids fall a little more over your eyes while he speaks. “It’s either this or I am going to do something even more stupid.” 

You let your head lull back.

“Alright.” you sight. “But.” You quickly state. “Embarrass me, Weasley, and you will have two people not talking to you.” He rolls his eyes and then determinedly looks at you. 

“Okay, so how am I supposed to pull this off?” You look at him in frustration. “What? I need step by step guidance.”

“I am gonna tell you this once. You miss it, I won’t repeat it. It is extremely stupid and why do I even… Aren’t you like a huge flirt and tease? Why would I need to teach you how…” He gave you a warning look and you shut yourself up real quick. “Oh, for Merlin's sake, okay.” 

He nodded. You gave yourself a moment to think it through, and he let you, keeping everything he wanted to say to himself. 

“Because this will be coming from literally nowhere, you must be really subtle at first.” He opened his mouth to say something but you interrupted him. “ I know, you don’t know how to be subtle, so just gaze at me from time to time during the dinner or whenever you’ll be sure George notices.” 

“So all I have to do is just look at you from time to time?”

“No, you muppet. I called it a gaze for a reason. You know? Staring at someone you find admiring?” He slightly shook his head, his ginger hair falling over his brown eyes. “Or just someone you find unbelievably pretty?” He still looked at you a bit dumbfounded. “Fred, you do it when you think about Quidditch and pranks.” He smirked, red tinting his cheeks. 

“Okay, loverrr…” you deliberately said the last word as slowly as possible, teasing him intentionally, hoping he might have a change of heart and call this plan off.  “We will call this “Act Number One.” In case you fail convincing George with this one, we will move on to the “Act Number Two.” Where you will seek close proximity.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “Step over the line with this one, Fred, and I will hex you.” 

He raises his hand into the air. “Whatever you’ll say, Ma’am.” 

“You will have to be subtle with this too. Otherwise it will just be whatever you do here, in Hogwarts on a daily basis. Try to sit next to me when the dinner is ready, try and fix my hair slightly or something, you will figure it out as you go.Then there is gonna be “Act Number Three”, I believe, you will need no assistance on this one - teasing. No comment on this one. I think this should do the job.”  You look at him blankly, something about this makes you irritated and anxious. 

“And what if after all of this, he still won’t be on no speaking terms with me?” 

“Then an actor's career won't be suitable for you.” 

Act Nr. 1

Your stay at The Burrow began shortly after the plan was devised. You had urged Fred to attempt a conversation with George before enacting the plan, and in the presence of Molly and Arthur, all appeared well between the brothers, they even shared a joke about Ron’s owl Gigwidgeon. However, once left alone, their relationship reverted to its former state. And you knew that it was a matter of hours before Freds attempt at Act One.

And indeed, your prediction proved accurate. The scene unfolded during dinner, just as you had anticipated. While engaged in conversation with Ginny, who sat to your right, Arthur kindly addressed you, prompting you to look left, up at him.

“Y/N, Fred shared the fact that your mother is a muggle,” you nodded looking at him. “How fascinating.” Arthur remarked, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. “I recently got a hold on this little thing..” he reached for his jacket pocket and pulled out a cigarette. “What exactly is this?” He held it with the tips of his thumb and forefinger as if it was a little wand. “I’ve seen it ignite flames. Is it some sort of muggle magic wand, huh?”

You couldn't help but giggle at Arthur's question, but your attention soon shifted to Molly, who cast her husband a warning glance. Unbeknownst to you, Fred's focus shifted to you, a slight smirk playing on his lips as he observed the interaction. 

“Not quite, Mr. Weasley,” you replied with a smile. “It's called a cigarette. It contains an addictive substance called nicotine, which people often smoke to alleviate stress or tension.”

“Really, Dad,” Bill interjected with a laugh, “Mum will be reaching for one of those every time you mention something from the Muggle world at the dinner table.”

Suddenly, Fred erupted into laughter, his eyes dancing with amusement as he directed his gaze towards you. “Well, would you look at that,” he exclaimed, drawing the attention of everyone at the table, yet his eyes were locked on you. “Our dear Y/N, the epitome of innocence, enlightening our dear old Dad about the vices of the Muggle realm.”

You shook slightly, your eyes widening a bit. What was he doing? But he only laughed at your widened eyes, the mischievous glint in his eyes indicating that he was teasing you, trying to uplift the mood at the table.

As the Weasleys' laughter filled the room, you felt a warmth spread through you, despite the slight embarrassment of being the center of attention. 

Ginny shot Fred a knowing look, her lips curling into a smirk. "Looks like someone's enjoying themselves a bit too much," she teased, earning another round of laughter from the group.

Fred caught your confused look as you were about to mouth him to watch what he’s doing, but he only winked at you. 

After the dinner you jumped quickly on your legs to help Molly. When you went to roll up your sleeves to wash the dishes, Molly quickly stopped you with a light touch and smiled kindly. “Honey, the magic will take care of that, go ahead and rest on the couch with everybody.” She rushed you to the living room. 

You turned back to look at the rest of the family: Arthur was explaining to Bill about some corruption that involved the Ministry of Magic and Gringotts Wizarding Bank; Ron and George were playing the wizards chess on the floor and by the look on George's face - Ron was winning. Ginny picked up a plate of cookies, murmuring that these were Percy’s favorite, so she had to offer some of him, so he wouldn’t starve himself to death with whatever he was doing as an exemplary Head Boy; and Fred seemed nowhere to be found. 

You turned back to Molly. “My mother always said that magic was too precious to use it on simple daily tasks, that could simply be managed by humans.” She smiled gently at you and her eyes lifted a bit from your eyes. 

At that exact moment you felt a heavy chins presence on your right shoulder. You turned your head towards it to see Fred's untidy red hair that was brushing your cheek slightly.

"Fred," you greeted softly, turning your head to meet his gaze.

His brown eyes sparkled with mischief as he grinned down at you. 

"Hey there," he whispered, his voice low and intimate despite the bustling room around you.

A sense of ease washed over you in his company, a feeling you'd grown accustomed to over the years of friendship. 

"Thought I'd join the party," he quipped, his breath warm against your ear.

“Go rest, you two,” Molly interrupted, “while I go and see where to lay you, Y/N. I hope you sharing a room with Ginny would be alright.” 

“It’s perfectly fine. Thank you, Molly.” 

Fred feigned a dramatic sigh, before nudging you gently towards the living room. 

“You are not following the plan, Fred, you ran over all of the acts in one day.” you scolded him, but he laughed loudly. 

“Y/N, darling, when was I ever following the rules?” 

Act Nr. 2

For a couple of days, the plan appeared to be on hold. The Weasley children found themselves occupied with various tasks around The Burrow, and you willingly lent a hand wherever needed.

Whether it was assisting Molly with preparing meals in the bustling kitchen, helping Arthur mend a fence in the ramshackle backyard, or joining Ron and Ginny in tending to the garden, you immersed yourself in the daily rhythm of life at The Burrow. Once or twice you caught Fred gazing at you while he took a little break to drink some water or just to catch a breath. 

However after the evening to a hold on the house and everybody seemed to be resting, gathered in the cozy living room of The Burrow, Fred subtly initiated Act Nr. 2 of the plan. With George engrossed in a conversation with Ron about Quidditch tactics, Fred seized the opportunity to position himself strategically closer to you on the worn-out couch.

With a casual yet deliberate movement, he shifted slightly, allowing his arm to brush against yours. You glanced at him, raising an eyebrow in silent amusement at his subtle maneuver. His response was a barely perceptible smirk, a silent acknowledgment of his progress in the plan. 

Every now and then, he would lean in slightly, as if to share a secret or a whispered joke, his breath tickling your ear. Each time, you couldn't help but smile at his playful antics, a silent agreement between you to maintain the facade of blossoming feelings.

Just then, George's voice cut through the jovial atmosphere, interrupting the conversation about Quidditch tactics. "Oi, Fred," he called out, his tone tinged with a hint of mischief. "You're looking a bit too comfortable there, mate. Planning on falling asleep, are you?"

Fred's smirk widened, as if he had anticipated this exchange beforehand. He shot a playful glance at George, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Can't blame a bloke for seeking a bit of comfort, can you?" he retorted, his tone light-hearted.

George chuckled, shaking his head in mock disapproval. "Well, just don't go drooling on her shoulder, mate," he teased, earning a round of laughter from the others in the room.

You couldn't help but join in the laughter, though you felt a slight flush creeping up your cheeks at the playful banter. Fred's proximity and the teasing exchange sent a pleasant warmth coursing through you, despite the teasing scrutiny of the Weasley twins.

Although, ironically, as the evening wore on, the warmth of the fire and the gentle hum of conversation lulled you into a comfortable state of relaxation. Despite your best efforts to stay alert and engaged in the lively discussion, the cozy ambiance of The Burrow proved too inviting, and you found your eyelids growing heavy.

Unbeknownst to you, Fred noticed the subtle droop of your head as you began to nod off, a small smile playing on his lips at the sight. He leaned closer, discreetly adjusting his position to offer you more support, ensuring you were comfortable.

Meanwhile, George shot Fred a knowing grin, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he observed your gradual descent into sleep. "Looks like someone's had a long day," he remarked sotto voce, his tone filled with gentle jest.

Fred nodded in agreement, his gaze softening as he watched you drift off into slumber, a sense of warmth and protectiveness washing over him. He couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for you, his best friend, as he silently vowed to ensure you rested undisturbed for the remainder of the evening. 

That was how Act Number two acted out. 

Act Nr. 3?

You were seated on the kitchen table, a steaming cup of coffee cradled in your hands, lost in thought as you gazed out the window. You sent Molly off from the kitchen.

Outside, Molly stood with her hands on her hips, a hint of exasperation evident in her flushed face. Before her, Ginny, George and Bill exchanged mischievous grins, their laughter ringing out like bells in the crisp winter air.

“Are you two crazy? No scarves, no hats on. You are going to get sick.” She urged her children to get back in and dress properly for the weather. 

In a moment of playful rebellion, George scooped up a handful of snow and molded it into a perfectly packed snowball. With a mischievous twinkle in his eye, he took aim and let it fly, intending to playfully tease his mother.

But fate had other plans.

In a twist of irony, just as Molly turned to face her son, the snowball found its mark, striking her squarely in the face with an unexpected impact. Time froze for a moment, the air thick with disbelief, before erupting into uproarious laughter, Molly's angry face told them enough and they all turned to get back inside. 

“Had a good night's sleep, Y/n?” George's voice rang out as he entered through the door, his laughter trailing behind him like a mischievous echo. He shook his hair, sending a flurry of snow cascading onto the floor, much to Molly's disapproval.

Your cheeks flushed slightly as you slid off from the table, reaching for the teapot and mugs to distract yourself. "Alright," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, though your embarrassment spoke volumes.

"Only alright? I thought Fred tucked you in quite nicely." George's laughter filled the room, rich and hearty, as he winked at you. His playful jab struck a nerve, eliciting a mixture of amusement and discomfort. You turned away, feeling the weight of his teasing words lingering in the air, stirring up a whirlwind of emotions within you.

As soon as they all settled down to enjoy a cup of tea, you seized the opportunity to slip away, making a beeline for Fred's whereabouts. But as you ascended up the stairs, he was going down, so you practically ran into each other.

"Oh, good," you exhaled, relief flooding through you at the sight of him. "I was looking for you."

Fred's smirk widened as he halted on the step above  you, closing the distance between you almost imperceptibly. "Slept well?" he inquired, his tone laced with amusement.

Your brow furrowed slightly as you struggled to articulate your thoughts, the urgency to convey your concerns  before the family downstairs didn’t get any ideas as to why you were standing on the stairs a moment too long. "Yeah, look," you began, your words tumbling out in a rush. "Why won’t you give this plan a little break? You seem to be talking again with George, and with the plan advancing at this pace, soon enough everybody will be asking about the relationship that doesn't exist."

"Darling, breathe," Fred intervened, his hands gently finding purchase on your shoulders as he chuckled. "You only fell asleep on me, so what? You’ve done this a million times in the common room, what’s the difference? But if you want to give it a breather, it’s fine too," he reassured, his expression softening with understanding.

However, instead of finding solace in his words, you recoiled slightly, evading his touch as you took a step back. His hands fell away from your shoulders, hanging awkwardly in the space between you as you sidestepped past him, eager to retreat to the safety of Ginny and your shared bedroom. 

Fred's brow furrowed in concern as he watched you retreat, a pang of unease tugging at his heart. He hadn't anticipated that his attempt to reassure you would only seem to exacerbate your anxiety. For a fleeting moment, he considered reaching out to you again, wanting to offer further comfort, but he held back, sensing that you needed space.

Meanwhile, you hurriedly made your way to the bedroom you shared with Ginny, seeking refuge from the whirlwind of emotions that had been stirred up by your encounter with Fred. Once inside the familiar space, you sat on your bed burying your face in your hands, closing your eyes briefly as you attempted to steady your breathing.

You have indeed fallen asleep on each of the twins at least ten twenty times during your years at Hogwarts. And not once has the teasing afterwards bother you, but something about today sent you reeling. You were blushing madly and wished that that would stop. Maybe the whole plan you helped to build, was turning against you, and each, and every time Fred paid attention to you, finally started playing with your head. 

You promised yourself to be a little more careful after that. 

Act Nr. 4 - the improvised part. 

The same night, you were roused from sleep by a gentle hand shaking your shoulder.

“Hey, Y/N, you up?” Fred's voice, soft and filled with excitement, whispered through the darkness as he continued to shake you awake.

You groaned in annoyance, feeling disoriented from being pulled out of sleep. “What is it?” you muttered, your voice tinged with irritation.

“Remember that star we told you about? The one me and George discovered last summer?” Fred's tone was eager, like a child on Christmas morning, and you realized where this was headed.

“Yeah,” you replied, still half-asleep and struggling to grasp why he was waking you up in the middle of the night for a star.

“Well, come on. I found it again,” he urged, his excitement palpable even in the dim light of the room.

You hesitated, feeling reluctant to leave the warmth of your bed for a star. “Why would you wake me up for a star, Fred? It's just a star,” you grumbled, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

But Fred was undeterred, his enthusiasm contagious as he handed you a pair of special goggles and gently grasped your wrist, guiding you outside into the chilly night air.

“Put these on and look straight up from where you're standing,” he instructed, his grip firm yet gentle as he positioned you in the right spot.

With a sigh, you relented, slipping the enchanted goggles over your eyes and following Fred's guidance. As you gazed upward, your breath caught in your throat at the sight before you.

The darkness of the night sky was transformed into a mesmerizing display of swirling colors, reminiscent of oil puddles reflecting light from muggle cars. It reminded you of the evening sky as the sun finally starts to set, bringing out the most vivid colors. The bright colors danced and twirled around in the  star and all around it, creating an ethereal display that seemed to defy explanation. Shades of deep indigo melted into vibrant hues of sapphire and emerald, while streaks of crimson and gold streaked across the dark sky.

“Pretty, ain’t it?” asked Fred while you watched the view in silence. You took the goggles off and looked up again, seeing only small, little stars shining above you. “Well the other ones do not look that extraordinary, but somehow that one does. And it comes up like three  or four times a year. It’s a miracle it came up over your stay here.” 

You turned to look at him. “It's really beautiful, Fred. I’m glad you woke me up.” 

He gently stroked your arms to make you a little bit warmer as you continued to shake due to the cold of the winter's night. 

When Fred retrieved back into his room, he smiled like a dumbass. When you got back inside you asked him if he had named that star and with a gentle smile he asked you to come up with a name for it. 

“Where have you been?” Apparently George wasn’t asleep when Fred got back, and curiosity won over George.  

“Out.” 

“You showed her the star, didn’t you?” George chuckled slightly when his brother removed his clothing and fell backwards into his bed. “I noticed it appeared again yesterday.”

“I might have done that, yes.” Fred admitted with a sheepish grin.

George laughed. “Told her what you named it?” 

“No, that would’ve been a bit embarrassing.” 

George laughed loudly but then quickly stopped, before waking the whole house up. “You're  hopeless, man. But I am happy for you.” 

Fred quickly turned his head to look at his brother, even though through the dark he could only make out his silhouette. “So? Are you back on speaking terms with me?” 

“Yeah, mate,” George chuckled, “I realized I was being dumb.”

Fred was happy. He genuinely was, but something about coming back to terms with his brother stopped him from feeling completely pleased with the situation. 

Act Nr. 5

Act 5 unfolded on a brisk afternoon a couple of days later. The sun was casting long shadows across the snow-dusted grounds of The Burrow. The Weasleys were involved in their own activities. You specifically were interested in another bewitched muggle artifact Arthur promptly told you about, then he went on reading the letter from the Ministry again, completely forgetting about telling you anything afterwards.  So you sat at the kitchen table, engrossed in a book. As you finally coughed up to where you left off, Fred entered the room with a lopsided grin.

"Hey, Y/N," he greeted, his voice warm and inviting.

You glanced up from your book, offering him a small smile in return. "Hey, Fred. What's up?"

"I was thinking," he began, his tone casual yet tinged with excitement, "why don't we take a walk outside? It's a perfect day for it."

Your eyebrows furrowed slightly in confusion. "A walk? Now?"

Fred nodded eagerly. "Yeah, come on. It'll be fun. We can explore the woods behind The Burrow. I heard there's a hidden clearing with the most amazing view."

Despite your initial skepticism, you found yourself unable to resist Fred's infectious enthusiasm. With a shrug, you closed your book and rose from the table. "Alright, why not? Lead the way."

As you ventured into the woods together, Fred regaled you with stories and anecdotes, his laughter echoing through the trees. With each step, you felt yourself relaxing in his company.

Eventually, you reached the hidden clearing Fred had mentioned, and you couldn't help but gasp in awe at the breathtaking view before you. The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting a golden hue over the landscape, while a gentle breeze whispered through the trees.

"It's beautiful," you murmured, your eyes scanning the scenery.

Fred grinned, his gaze fixed on you. "Not as beautiful as you," he replied softly.

You froze, your heart skipping a beat at his words. But before you could respond, George's voice rang out from behind you.

"Hey, lovebirds!" he called, his tone teasing. "What are you two up to?"

Your confusion turned to disappointment as you realized that Fred's affectionate words were likely just another one of his improvised acts. With a forced smile, you turned to face your friend, masking your disappointment behind a facade of nonchalance.

"Just enjoying the view," you replied, your voice lacking its usual warmth.”Care to join?”

As George joined you in the clearing, the moment between you and Fred faded into the background, leaving you grappling with the lingering sting of disappointment and confusion.

As the days passed quickly in The Burrow, the atmosphere seemed to settle into a familiar rhythm, apart from that, the twins seemed to get back into their close relationship, which made you extremely happy. 

Once or twice Fred would act out your made up plan and gaze at you during the day at dinner or whenever you were near each other. You, of course, didn’t expect anything more than that, understanding that now the two brothers were back to their old selves and your interactions with Fred were purely out of keeping the act just for George. But that did not change the fact that the shift happened within you. You spend more and more time thinking how everything will play out in the end when you get back to Hogwarts. How you will be sitting there, in the common room, pretending not to notice how Fred flirts with other girls and then returns to you to boast about it. This held a tight grip over your heart, making your chest feel heavy. 

There you were, sitting on the couch, watching Ron make the wrong move and lose his bishop in the process, Ginny bobbing her head happily whilst laying on the ground.  

“George just now told me that you don’t know how to play chess,” Fred sat down next to you, accidentally knocking several chess figures of the ground. 

“OIII!” Ron shouted. “Watch what you’re doing.” 

“Sorry, mate.” Fred laughed and dramatically reached for the queen on the ground and put it back on board in the wrong spot. “Y/N?”

“Hmm?” You turned to him, shifting back from your thoughts to reality. 

Fred raised his eyebrow and laughed. “What were you thinking so deeply about? Me?” he teased and you felt his hand reach for your own. As he tried to intervene your fingers together you quickly pulled your arm away from him and stood up. No matter how angry this made you, you tried not to give it away.  You felt sickened to your stomach. The action was small. But for some reason it was enough for you. This went too far, the act he was doing and suddenly there was no going back, everything went from too early to too late to stop this stupid lie, and the only thing you dreaded for - happened. It was your own fault, you agreed to this.

“Just remembered, I haven’t reached out for my parents for a while now,” you mumbled and left the room to actually write to your parents and ask if you could get back home from The Burrow earlier than planned. 

The Finale 

You were folding your clothes and putting them back in your trunk, while Ginny watched you from her bed. 

“Did they really ask you to go back home?” She asked once again in disbelief. You nodded. “They always let you stay as long as you want.”

“Yeah, I guess something happened back home.” You lied without looking back up at her. 

“Did you tell Fred? That you’re going back home?” She sat up, while you stopped packing and thought for a moment whether you should tell her the truth. “You haven’t,” she said, quite shocked. “Why? The boy’s going to go mad.” 

“I really don’t think so,” you mumbled.

“But he will tho,” spoke George standing in between the door, his arms crossed on his chest, he looked disappointed. 

You paused, feeling the weight of George's words sinking in. Despite your efforts to convince yourself otherwise, deep down, you knew he was right. Fred would indeed be affected by your departure, you were his best friend, nevertheless. 

Ginny shot her twin a sympathetic glance before turning back to you. "He's right, you know. Fred may not show it, but he'll definitely be upset."

You sighed, feeling a pang of guilt gnawing at your conscience. "I know," you admitted reluctantly. "But I need to sort things out back home."

“No, you don’t.” Said George again firmly. He looked quite mad now. “Considering the fact that it was you, who asked your parents to go back home early, not the other way around.”

“Uhmm… How do you?...” You stammered, caught off guard by George's accusation. His words hung in the air, heavy with accusation and disbelief.

Ginny's expression softened, her eyes filled with concern as she glanced between you and George. "George, calm down," she interjected gently, trying to diffuse the tension that crackled in the room.

But George remained undeterred, his gaze fixed firmly on you. "How do I know?" he repeated, his voice low and intense. "Because you accidentally used the quill we use for pranks. It creates two messages as it writes, one to your recipient, second to its owner,  and that would be me and Fred, only I got the hold of the message first.”

You hid your face in your hands, embarrassed. 

“Then,” George continued, “I assumed Fred had done something stupid once again and pressed him until he told me everything, And when I say everything, I mean it. Merlin's beard, Y/N, I thought Fred was daft, but turns out this friendship with us made you daft too.”

“Ummmm?” Ginny interrupted. “Mind to elaborate a little bit?” 

Ginny's interruption brought a momentary pause to the tense atmosphere in the room. George sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair as he struggled to find the right words.

"Well," he began, glancing at you briefly before continuing, "apparently our dear Y/N here concocted a plan to get Fred and me talking again. She thought we needed a little nudge to mend our relationship, so she came up with this whole scheme of them faking a relationship."

Ginny's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You did what?" she exclaimed, turning to you with a mixture of disbelief and curiosity.

“First of all,” you raised your finger angrily at George, “ it wasn’t my idea, Fred came up with it. Secondly, it wasn’t a fake relationship,” you said angrily, “it was for you to believe he had feelings for me so you would drop your stupid not talking to Fred phase, because you thought he was still in love with your girlfriend. So in the end, who is to blame?” you asked him. 

Ginny looked from you to George. She was sitting dumbfounded, and if it wasn’t for the angry looks on your and George's faces, she would’ve started laughing. 

“Okay, it was stupid, I agree with you,” George mumbled. “But you're as thick as it gets, Y/N.”

“Why am I the thick one?” 

“Because you actually thought Fred would fake having feelings for you,” these words from George stung like a slap in the face, the truth of them hitting you harder than you anticipated. You felt a surge of embarrassment and hurt wash over you, realizing how naively you had fallen for Fred's act. It was a bitter pill to swallow. Even Ginny’s mouth fell open. 

“George…” she murmured silently. 

“What? Wasn’t he like in love with her for a couple of years?” He said angrily. “And then you,” he pointed towards you, “went on and let him continue this charade and now because you can’t take it anymore, you’re leaving. Of course this is going to upset him.”

You tried to say something, you really tried, but words just did not form inside your head. 

Thank the spirits, cause it was Ginny who spoke after. “No, George, wait. I don’t think she knew.” 

You met Ginny's eyes, grateful for her unwavering support in this moment of turmoil. 

“I… I didn’t know,” you finally managed to utter, your voice barely above a whisper, but each word weighed heavy with sincerity. “I didn’t realize... I thought...” Your voice trailed off, the words catching in your throat as you struggled to articulate the whirlwind of emotions that churned within you. “I genuinely thought that he was doing it for you. I was leaving because I didn’t want to…” the words died out from your mouth and you didn’t finish your sentence. 

“I didn’t want to end up hurt afterwards. I assumed he only saw me as his best friend and the act would die out eventually when we got back to Hogwarts.” 

The snort from George interrupted the silence that followed after your sentence. “You and Fred must be two of the dumbest people I know. Y/N, he named a star after you, you were more than his best friend for a while now.” 

“Oi, mate, not nice to throw me under the bus like that,”  Fred quipped, entering the room with a lopsided grin.

You turned to him, quite in shock. 

“And I think this is our cue to leave,” said Ginny gently, sending a wink to you and grabbing George by his forearm to lead him out of the room. 

“Complete idiots,” George managed to yell whilst leaving. 

Fred chuckled, stepping closer to you. "Ignore him, love. He's just jealous because he hasn't named a star after anyone yet."

“I am extremely confused, Fred.” 

Fred's grin softened into a gentle smile as he reached out to take your hand in his and intervene your fingers together. He smiled as you let him. "I know, Y/N. It's been a bit of a mess, hasn't it?"

You nodded, still trying to process everything that had unfolded.

"I promise to explain everything properly," Fred reassured you, his eyes earnest and sincere. 

Fred took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts before he began to explain. "Okay, so... I know this whole situation might seem incredibly confusing, but there are a few things you need to know." He paused, searching your eyes for any sign of understanding before continuing.

"Firstly, yes, I did come up with the plan to pretend to have feelings for you, but it wasn't just to mend things between George and me. It was also because..." He hesitated, his expression turning earnest. "Well, because I actually thought I might kill two birds with one stone.”

Confusion flickered across your face as you processed his words. "What do you mean?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Fred took a deep breath, steeling himself before he continued. "I mean, yes, the initial idea was to help George and me patch things up by making him think I had feelings for you. But... it was also a way for me to... explore my own feelings for you."

Your breath caught in your throat as his words sank in. "You mean... you actually do have feelings for me?" you asked, your voice barely audible.

Fred nodded, his gaze unwavering as he met your eyes. "Yeah, I do. I've liked you for a while now, Y/N. I just didn't know how to tell you."

Emotions swirled inside you, a mixture of disbelief, confusion, and a flicker of hope. "But... why didn't you just tell me?" you asked, your voice trembling with emotion.

Fred sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I was scared, Y/N. Before our friendship even began, you seemed to be annoyed everytime I approached you. I am not even going to mention the looks you gave me when I tried to flirt with you. Then I dropped it, I thought you weren’t interested and it proved me right, cause quickly after you joined our trio. (A/N: We can not forget our Lee.)”

“I thought you saw me as one of these girls you always flirt with, I thought you were being a tease for your own entertainment.” 

Fred's expression softened as he listened to your words, a tinge of regret coloring his features. "Y/N, I understand why you might have thought that. And I'm sorry if I ever gave you that impression.”

“But why did George think you were still into Angelina?” 

“Because before you came into the picture I kinda liked her. And we got along pretty well, I just did not realize at the time she was being extra friendly with me, cause she liked George. Then you came along and my feelings changed. I mentioned them to George once or twice and then dropped it. Didn’t want to annoy him, didn’t want to hear him tease me when you joined our friend group. When he fell for Angelina, he must’ve overthought everything. But he kinda put everything together after I returned to our room after I showed you your star.” He raised his free hand and gently tucked your stray strand of hair over your ear, and then pressed his hand over your cheek, to which you leaned in. 

“Pretty soon after you arrived, you fell asleep on me, literally in front of everybody,” you closed your eyes in embarrassment as he spoke, he started softly caressing your cheek, “I thought you finally started to catch on, but you asked me to put the plan on hold, and I genuinely got scared I was pushing you away with the way I acted.” 

“I am so sorry for not catching on sooner, for avoiding you…” you tried to explain yourself, but Fred interrupted you. 

Fred shook his head, his expression tender. "No apologies necessary, Y/N. You did what I asked you. I hope you will now understand that everything was sincere.” 

You closed your eyes again and as lovingly as possible said, “And I hope you will understand that I sincerely fell for you.”

He laughed as he leaned in closer, “I got that while you were having a little chit chat with my brother, otherwise it would’ve been me who stayed over with the gnomes.” He looked deeply into your eyes as if asking if it was alright, you slightly nodded, so he closed that little space that was left between you and kissed you. 

[dex-is-still-a-mess]

Today I'm sharing my homebrew setting for a dnd 5e campaign, where all player options are available, including all races and subraces (although I'm not sure about dragonmarks....), all classes and subclasses, all backgrounds, and all feats.

I'm gonna describe the world in the chronological order things happened.

First, gods (or something close to it), they created the planet and elementals, then later, they created the fey. Then the elementals created the giants. Then the fey wanted to prank the elementals and turned most of the giants into dwarves. In response, the elementals turned most of the dwarves into goliaths. At this point the gods were pissed off with what the fey and the elementals had been doing, so they banished the fey and the elementals to another plane.

The giants went into hiding. The dwarves went to explore the underground, while the goliaths got the mountain peaks. Then a big portion of the goliaths did something and ended up losing their giant heritage (maybe a curse or divine punishment or something like that) and they became the humans, and a portion of those humans got blessed/cursed and became the halflings.

In the other plane, where the fey and the elementals were banished to, they have been creating several other creatures, more of themselves, but less powerful of course. But then, the fey and the elementals begun a war, which ended up with the fey losing. The elementals managed to banish the fey back to the material plane, and so a lot of fey races were introduced, like centaurs, changelings, fairies, and satyrs.

After some time of interactions between the people of the material plane and the fey, some people got changed. Some humans became elves, some halflings became gnomes, some goliaths became firbolgs, and some indiscriminate assortment of people got a generic fey energy, becoming hexblood.

The coming of the fey into the material plane allowed magic to exist there (which it didn't before that), and soon the fey lords were worshiped like gods, the gods didn't like that and so banished them again, into a new plane, just for them. But the magic had already affected too much of the world, and removing it entirely would destroy everything. So the gods decided on a compromise, the most powerful fey go to the other plane so they aren't worshiped anymore, and to keep the magic in the material plane, they created dragons, they would channel the magic from the other planes and keep it flowing in the material plane, all three of them, the Platinum Dragon, the Rainbow Dragon, and the Diamond Dragon. That also meant that the gods were now allowing all planes to dip their toes in the material plane now. And that resulted in Aasimar, Genasi, Kalashtar, Kender, and Tieflings to start appearing. Also half-elves, but that has nothing to do with all that.

Then, people exploring the world and reaching too far ended up in some curses spreading... Some gnomes became goblins, some elves became hobgoblins, some goliaths became orcs, some firbolgs became bugbears, and some other firbolgs became minotaurs, some elves, dwarves, and gnomes explored the deep and became the drow, duergar, and svirfneblin. And finally, a lot of people got cursed into becoming animal-like, like the shifter, the aarakocra, the grung, harengon, kunku, leonin, lizardfolk, locathah, loxodon, owling, tabaxi, and tortle. And some were result of magic experimentation, like the dhampir, hadozee, reborn, triton, verdan, and yuan-ti. Also, the dragons created kobolds and then dragonborn.

And finally, a spaceship crashed on the planet. It was a really big ship, it was carrying a lot of new people, like the Giff, the Gith, the plasmoids, thri-kreen, vedalken, and warforged. Some time later, through more experimentations, we got autognomes, and simic hybrids.

Ok, also, at some point, the three dragons got into a conflict among themselves, which ended up with each of them to split into 5 new dragons. The platinum dragon became the gold dragon, the silver dragon, the bronze dragon, the copper dragon, and the brass dragon. The rainbow dragon became the red dragon, the blue dragon, the green dragon, the black dragon, and the white dragon. And the diamond dragon became the amethyst dragon, the emerald dragon, the sapphire dragon, the topaz dragon, and the crystal dragon. Being way less powerful than they were before (also they can't fuse back together), the people tried to kill the dragons and try to steal their powers. They managed to kill like 2 or 3 dragons, and the dragons decided to go into hiding (they all assumed a "humanoid" form). Also, the ones that got killed will be reincarnated. Remember, if all dragons die, magic stops to exist in the material plane and a lot of stuff just ends.

[warmhealerr]

Random OC ask, summer game! ⛱️☀️🌊.

What your OCs or favorite characters would be doing on a beach? In case they absolutely can't go on a beach, what other summer activity do they enjoy?

Bonus level - once answered, pass this ask to 3 other people's inboxes!

Also got tagged by @ardentkurashk (thank you both).

See, I am used to (and prefer) beaches that have more stone than sand, so this answer is gonna be shaped by that.

Focusing on DND chars.

During the day, Ta'rath would sit half immersed where the foam collects in between harsh swimming sessions from one end of the beach to the other. They're definitely doing this naked and people can cry about it. They would hate the drying sand on their skin though, especially as it gets stuck in the creases of their spots and under their feet alongside the cuts they'd earn in the process. They'd most likely wash themself at least thrice after when they get back home, and would still find ways to complain about the particles left.

At night, I can imagine them going back to the beach for some nice peace and quiet. They would sit in the dark, listening to the sea and perhaps few boats creaking, gaze half perceiving the horizon and its subtle orange tint.

(Note : quicksand risks and tide aside, I recommend going to the beach around mightnight-3am once in a lifetime).

Assuming the deep gnomes wouldn't fry under the sun :

Joufos, when he isn't floating on his back, would be sticking to the shore hunting for shrimps, crabs and other edible friends he can reach by hand. Wouldn't catch everything even if he could just because he likes watching and touching the creatures more than throwing them in a bucket to eat later (cat behavior). In a more modern setting he'd be especially into trying to identify every species he can lay eyes on with his phone. Would probably find himself stupid sick or worse because he decided to touch or eat a venomous/poisonous animal, completely ignoring its bright colors.

Oulmat is on her third cocktail and has a big, bright dumb smile on her flushed face. Wouldn't indulge in actual beach activities, she's just here to drink out of the sun's reach and watch people get in trouble.

If Baltumal showed up with her he'd be attempting to sunbathe chilling on a flamingo float, until he eventually drifts off, lost at sea, and rescue teams have to look for him. They've all the time in the world considering he doesn't need to eat nor drink. He'd be back with the most awful sunburned and salt blistered skin you've ever seen but he'd comment he feels no pain and couldn't give less of a shit anyway, he had a good time.

Zilkon shows up with full sports sailing gear, ends up buried in sand and gravel for 5 hours. He has most likely been forgotten by his peers, but as long as he's got sunglasses on he doesn't mind at all. Hopefully people dig him up before the tide gets him.

Mischkit would be annoying everyone at peak hours trying to play frisbee, soccer and volleyball with him in his stupid sexy mankini until eventually enough random strangers agree. He might accidentally destroy a child's sandcastle in the process. He'd be a dick about it and pretend to have no remorse whatsoever but he's gonna have nightmares about it for 3 years.

[sixminutestoriesblog]

barbegazi

High up in the Alps, where the border of Switzerland and France meet, winter has come and the temperature has grow cold enough to drive even the hardiest indoors, whether mountain climbers or animals seeking their den. There is one being though, that has been waiting all year for winter's chill to finally arrive.

Living in tunnels that run through the highest peaks of the Alps, is a strange creature called the barbegazi. While the rest of the region is enjoying warm spring and summer weather, the barbegazi hibernates, tucked safe and sound with their families in their mountain homes. Come winter though, once the temperature has dropped below zero, the barbegazi awake and slip out of their cleverly hidden tunnel entrances, slipping past the icicles that serve as camouflage to enjoy the season.

Barbegazi, according to Swiss folklore, is a winter gnome that lives so far up in the mountains that they never even dip as far down them as the treeline. The barbegazi love the snow and, from all appearance, the snow loves them as well. Its said that a barbegazi can dig through the winter white so quickly that they can disappear into it in only seconds, leaving humans who might have ventured up the mountains mystified as to where they went. Barbegazi don't just dig down into snow. It's said that if one is ever buried under snow, no matter how deep, they will be able to easily dig themselves back to the surface again. Handy in a region where avalanches are always a danger.

Don't think barbegazi are afraid of avalanches though! Quite the contrary. You see, these gnomes are all born with excessively large feet. These large feet act like built-in-snowshoes and allow the barbegazi to run across the snow faster than rabbits, leaving hardly any trace of their passing. What's more the barbegazi also use their big feet like skis and there's nothing a barbegazi loves more than ridding the chaotic, surging snowfall of an avalanche as it plunges down the side of the mountain.

These mountain gnomes aren't malevolent and its a good thing for hikers, skiers and mountaineers that they aren't. Just like the tommyknockers of a previous post, barbegazi can warn of soon-to-be danger. Any experienced human going up the mountains, once the temperatures drops, knows to listen carefully for a whistling sound. The barbegazi might have a need for speed but they know humans don't and if one of them is around just before an avalanche is set to come crashing down the mountainside, it will whistle its warning if it sees anyone in danger of being in the rushing snows path. Even more, barbegazi have been said to dig people trapped by avalanche snow out again. This kind of care-taking extends to all the creatures of the mountain the barbegazi lives on and it will protect its mountain friends from the worst of the winter as well as guide lost sheep back to their flock during snowstorms.

Other than their large feet and small stature, how can you recognize a barbegazi? They've got icicles where their beards and eyebrows should be! In fact, its thought that their name is actually a corruption of barbes glacées, which means 'frozen beards'. They also all wear suits made of white fur that cover them entirely from the neck down to the ankles. Beyond whistling, they're known to use hoots to communicate across distances to each other, a sound that's often mistaken for the howl of the wind.

So, next time its winter and you're out treaking through the Alps - good Lord! what is wrong with you? Get inside! - just remember to keep an eye out for the icicle-haired barbegazi and to take them very, very seriously if you hear them start to whistle.

[tsaiko]

By the end of the month, I am on track to double the number of words I had written for this story. I had forgotten 1) how much I love the format of this (where I'm telling the backstory in one section, and then the current story in the next) and 2) how much I much Ritter is having a not good time in the current story.

---

There was a dragon that had moved into the old gnome warren in the Trumpeter Peaks. The villagers of Applebe weren't really surprised. This would be the third dragon that had taken up residence since the village was founded nearly 200 years ago. All in all, this one had to be the best. It stuck to eating deer and rabbits on the forested slopes, and only occasionally snitched a lamb or two in the spring. Even those sheep could have been lost to wolves and not the dragon.

Maybe.

Still, a dragon was a dragon, and if left alone for years they would only grow bolder. And bigger. Big dragons were a real problem because they could carry off bullocks, horses, and virgins. Bullocks could feed an entire family for a winter. Horses were worth their weight in gold in the farming valleys. Virgins were in short supply as it was in the mountain village. Better to nip this in the bud.

The last time a dragon had appeared, well over a four decades ago, the town had put in a request to the crown to have a knight sent out to take care of the problem. Things had changed, progress had been made. Nowadays towns could contract with a dragon slayer directly instead of waiting months for the crown to deign to acknowledge that there was a problem that they needed to solve.

Luckily for the town of Applebe, one of the most famous dragon slayers hailed from their town. In fact, he lived there now. Unluckily for them, it had been over four years since he'd slain a dragon. Now he lived with his parents once more and helped around their farm.

Sure, he’d sworn off dragon slaying. No one even knew if he’d kept his armor and weapons, but surely something could be improvised. And yes, the king had taken away his knighthood. That didn’t mean his skills in dragon slaying weren’t still there, it a little rusty. He now spent most of his nights getting drunk, but everyone needed a hobby. He also fooled around. A lot.

This is important.

---

"I am not going to marry you."

"What?" Ritter asked as he propped the pitchfork he'd been using to shovel manure against the wall. The air was filled with the scent of horse and shit in the confines of the barn. "The wedding is less than four days from now."

"There's not going to be a wedding," Alysa said. "I'm not marrying you."

"Really? And have you told your parents this?" Alysa had ringlets. Very tight brown ringlets that probably took hours with a hot iron to make every morning. Her family wasn't rich any more, but they had been back when ringlets were in fashion in the capital. Five years ago.

"No, but I'm sure they will agree that I cannot marry you." Alysa held a handkerchief over her nose to block the smell.

"Your parents have already paid for everything. It's not like they have money to just throw around anymore," Ritter said.

If he had had enough sleep, Ritter would have thought before he opened his mouth. He'd spent the night tossing and turning, too hot to sleep. It was the middle of summer. Heat and humidity hung in the valleys. He'd been trained to be polite and courteous in all situations because he was a representative of the court when he was on a quest. But Ritter hadn't slept well the night before and he'd promised to muck the stables this morning, which was why the sun had barely risen and he was ankle deep in muck.

It was really hard to be diplomatic when you were standing in horseshit.

"That's why I'm not marrying you!" Alysa shrieked. One of the dogs started howling outside, and more than one horse snorted and stomped at the sudden sound. Ritter had forgotten how loud females could be when they were truly offended. Like harpies. "You are supposed to be courteous and noble and genteel and... and... you are not! How can you call yourself a knight?"

"I'm not a knight. Not any more. Just like you are no longer a lady." The slap was not totally unexpected.

"How dare you! I am still a lady." Ritter managed to stop himself from correcting her just in time. Given the number of times they'd tossed the sheets when Alysa's parents weren't home, Ritter knew for a fact that his betrothed was no lady. Hell, it wasn't like he was even her first.

Tiredness caught up with him and he stifled a yawn. That only seemed to infuriate Alysa even more. "Cur. Swine. Oathbreaker."

Ritter watched Alysa storm out of the barn, her head held high and her skirts gathered to avoid soiling the edge. He shouldn't get mad. It was the truth at least as far as everyone was concerned. Besides it wasn't like Alysa didn't blow hot and cold by turns all the time. She'd come around in an hour and beg him to take her back.

She didn't. It seemed Ritter was, indeed, not getting married.

[oliveyeen]

are mcyt aus still a thing? idk i wanted to draw out this scene real bad so, here ya go.

this is from an au of mine that mixes empires, origins, and dream smp (since i like the idea of smps and rps of minecraft being part of the universe/world). part of it follows shrub (from empires) as she is raised by phila n mumza, becoming wilbur n tommy’s adoptive sister. i’ll ramble about the lore behind this scene so feel free to read below:

in this scene, xornoth has become well known and has been fully corrupted by shad. in my au, shad n irene are one of the important deities in the pantheon, and created the stag brothers; aeor and exor. so in the name of shad and to also free him, xornoth has begun his conquest to collect all the artifacts to release him. unfortunately he has his eyes on finding the prized artifact of the wolf mother, and so destroys every gnome village to search for it. shrub is very young at this time, and so her and her mother run as the bells warn for xornoth’s arrival. in the midst of the chaos, shrub’s father is separated from her and her mom as the gnomes try to run towards the nether portal; which takes them to the elven kingdom, rivendell. shrub and her mother run from the oncoming swarm of piglins. fearing for the worse, shrub’s mother hides shrub inside a dead log and tells her to “never come out of there. until your father comes back, you must stay here and remain quiet...!” after hugging, her mother yells for the piglins to chase her. shrub hears the roaring flames, snorts from the piglins, and the screams of her people. calling for help. all she can do is weep quietly as her home is burned to the ground...

a week passes, and phil n mumza discovered the burndown village. they’re horrified by what they see, and while mumza searches for any survivors, phil knows who caused such a crime... phil leaves to find any supplies needed for their journey. while gathering some, he hears something. thinking it was the wind, he continued. he heard it again. he stopped and listened carefully...

and he heard it again. he followed it towards a dead log. when he peaked inside, he was shocked by what he saw: a small cub, covered in dirt and moss, shivering. he never considered the fact that children, hell families were among the casualties of the village. to witness such devastation would traumatize anyone.  once the cub acknowledged him, it only proved his point as she jumped and stared at him with eyes widened. he softened his gaze, and spoke in a gentle voice:

“hey, it’s okay. i’m not gonna hurt you.”

hearing those words seemed to calm the kid. phil continued to softly speak to her in the hopes of getting her out of the log. when he heard mumza, he shushed her and motioned her to the log. once seeing inside, she too softly told to the kid that everything is okay and that it’s safe to come out. while hesitant, shrub carefully crawled to the two and sat, shivering at their feet. phil lifted her in his arms, and for a moment he felt shrub heavily sigh and went into a deep sleep. in that moment, she knew she was safe.

-

PHEW CREATIVE WRITING!! my writing is bad and there’s probs a lot of mistakes, but i hope it gets the scene across well enough! i have more lore regarding my mcyt au, so i’ll probably come back and share more. thank u for reading my weird thoughts LOL.

[dailycharacteroption]

Retrograde Revision 1: Animal Speaker (Bard Archetype)

 Our quest to redo old entries continues, and it immediately begins with a word substitution error, so that’s cringeworthy.

In any case, this archetype represents someone who has a special connection to certain broad categories of animal, able to befriend them with ease. However, their power also lets them influence animals in general, calling them to your aid.

If this is sounding a bit like a mix of the Pied Piper and a Disney Princess, you’re not wrong.

These characters might be bards trained in secret performances that reach the hearts of beasts, or they might be someone supernaturally gifted to be beloved by nature, their bard training being only incidental or reflavored. Either way, they can always count on a creature of the wilds to aid them.

While it can be tempting to play them as the innocent and naïve Disney Princess type, remember that this archetype can be used for more than that, such as a bard with a touch of the fey, or even a more traditional bard with an aesthetics of the wild.

 These bards share a special bond with broad categories of animals, which are never normally hostile to them, and must be forcibly compelled to attack unless attacked first. Meanwhile, their ability to influence and befriend such animals is second to none.

As they grow in mastery, they also befriend additional broad categories of beast, and can magically speak with such animals.

They also learn two special performances. The first one allows these animal friends to influence beasts through their performances.

The second lets them call upon hordes of nearby rats and other rodents to aid and fight for them.

Finally, these nature-loving mystics learn to cast summoning spells geared towards creatures of nature, giving them even more allies beyond the animal type.

This archetype can be a fun one if you do a lot of travelling and your GM doesn’t find animal encounters too “boring”, but it has lots of fun utility wherever animals can be found regardless, which is pretty much anywhere. The most important thing to remember before using the archetype is what counts as a “type” of animal. Sure, “fox” may be a little too specific, while “snake” may be stretching it and “fish” might make a biologist GM wince, so be sure to establish ahead of time what is or isn’t too broad a type. Beyond that, this archetype mostly replaces performances, so build with a few reliable performances in mind and consider adopting a pet or even a familiar (via feats) to constantly have access to an animal buddy.

 On the one hand, it can be easy to assume that these mystics are worldly like the Pied Piper, fully willing to go to extreme measures against those that would take advantage of them. On the other, there is a certain appeal to the naivety of the princess archetype, regardless of the nature and origins of the character. After all, their best friends are often animals that would never hurt them. Of course, most characters probably fall somewhere in between on that scale.

  Deep in the jungle of Trad’kia, something gives malevolent will to the beasts within. Colonial settlements from nearby nations have fallen under attack by strange armies of apes, birds, and savage dinosaurs acting in concert, all to the tune of a deep bass voice from the trees.

 Birdcaller Mountain is named for the gnome civilization that dwells among the peaks, famous for their command over beasts of the air. When a corrupted phoenix is tracked back to the range, the party may find themselves at odds with the bird-worshipping folk, who care not if their living idol has become corrupted and twisted.

 Mortran Beldenskein would do anything to acquire the power possessed by his brother, none other than the Merchant King himself, including poison him. Now only his niece stands between him and that prestige. After she returns from an attempt for her to become “lost” in the savage wilderness fails, escorted by the very beasts meant to devour her, Mortran is becoming desperate enough to try a more direct route. If only there were a ragtag band of heroes capable of defending her from what her animal friends cannot.

[chivalryburdened]

“sanji is there such thing as gnome bacon? like bacon specially for gnomes? no reason why I’m asking I’m just curious… but if there is where do you get it from?”

unprompted.

gnome bacon....? he blinks once, twice. what.

the blond wordlessly peaks into potential hiding places for luffy, usopp, or hell even zoro, to be lurking out in. around the corner & into some fairly deep cupboards, even a quick glance into the pantry. this was definitely a prank. shame on them for roping their poor little doctor into it. sanji was going to decimate their asses once chopper was out of sight. sometimes it was hard to forget how young & gullible the reindeer was. but this was a first for the chef. also, the fuck was a gnome?

"not that I've ever heard." sounds like a crockpot full of shit to him, but he wasn't going to say that out loud. "but I can whip up .. normal bacon, if that's what you want. just for you and not luffy." he does spit out the last part.

shitty rubber, using chopper to get him more meat. he was gonna be dead meat soon.

sanji fondly pats aforementioned animal between his cute little antlers, willing away his annoyance with a small smile. "is that a good enough answer, doc?"

[joemomrgneissguy]

Grandeur.

By Alfred Castner King

Dedicated to the mountains of the San Juan district, Colorado, as seen from the summit of Mt. Wilson.

I stood at sunrise, on the topmost part Of lofty mountain, massively sublime; A pinnacle of trachyte, seamed and scarred By countless generations' ceaseless war And struggle with the restless elements; A rugged point, which shot into the air, As by ambition or desire impelled To pierce the eternal precincts of the sky.

Below, outspread, A scene of such terrific grandeur lay That reeled the brain at what the eyes beheld; The hands would clench involuntarily And clutch from intuition for support; The eyes by instinct closed, nor dared to gaze On such an awful and inspiring sight.

The sun arose with bright transcendent ray, Up from behind a bleak and barren reef; His face resplendent with beatitude, Solar effulgence and combustive gleam; Bathing the scene in such a wealth of light That none could marvel that primeval man, Rude and untaught, whene'er the sun appeared, Fell down and worshipped.

A wilderness of weird, fantastic shapes, Of precipice and stern declivity; Of dizzy heights, and towering minarets; Colossal columns and basaltic spires Which pointing heavenward, appeared to wave In benediction o'er the depths beneath.

Uneven crags and cliffs of various form; Abysmal depths, and dire profundities; Chasms so deep and awful that the eye Of soaring eagle dare not gaze below, Lest, dizzied, he should lose his aerial poise, And headlong falling, reach the gulf beneath.

Majestic turrets, and the stately dome Which, ovaled by the slow but tireless hand Of eons of disintegrating time, Still with impressive aspect rears its brow Defiant of mutation and decay.

The crevice deep and inaccessible; Fissure and rent, where the intrusive dike's Creative and destructive agency Leaves many an enduring monument Of metamorphic and eruptive power; Of molten deluge, and volcanic flood; Fracture and break, the silent stories tell Of dire convulsion in the ages past; Of subterranean catastrophe, And cataclysm of internal force.

The trachyte wall, beseamed and battle scarred; The porphyritic tower and citadel; The granite ramparts and embattlements Of nature's fort, impregnable and wild, Stand as a symbol of eternal strength, And hurl a challenge to the elements!

Cañons of startling and appalling depths, With caverns, vast and gloomy which would seem Meet for the haunt of centaur or of gnome; The gorgon and the labyrinthodon; The clumsy mammoth and the dinosaur; Or all gigantic and unwieldy shapes Which earth has seen in mysterious past, Would seem more in accord and harmony With such surroundings than the puny form Of insignificant, conceited man.

And interspersed amid these solemn peaks Lie many a pleasant vale and grassy slope, Besprinkled with the drooping columbine, And fragrant growths of all harmonious tints, Whose variegated colors punctuate Grandeur with beauty, and fearless, bloom In the forbidding shadow of the cliffs, And to the margin of the snowy combs Which still resist the suns persuasive ray.

A lakelet, cool, pellucid and serene, Fed by the drippings from eternal snows, Lies like a mirror 'neath a frowning cliff, Or as a gem, majestically ensconced In diadem of crag and pinnacle.

Down towards the valley's sultry clime, Both solitary, and in straggling groups; In solid phalanx, rigid and compact; In labyrinth of branches interspread, Impervious to the rain and midday sun; In form spontaneous, without regard To law of uniformity, there stand In silent awe, or whispering to the breeze, The sombre fir and melancholy pine. And many a denuded avenue Of varying and considerable width, Cut through the growth of balsam, spruce and pine, Which stands erect and proud on either hand, Attests the swift and desolating force Of fearful, devastating avalanche.

The mountain rill its pleasant music makes, As the descendant waters roll along, In a rhythmic flow and dulcet cantabile, In various concord and harmonious pitch, Pursuant of its journey to the sea; The murmuring treble of the rivulet, Uniting with the deep and ponderous bass Of torrent wild and foaming cataract; The thunderous, reverberating tones And seething ebullition of the falls Are blended in one grand euphonious chord.

Far in the hazy distance, as the eye With vague perceptive vision penetrates, Lie the vast mesas of ethereal hue, Stretched in a calm and sleepy quietude, Dreamy repose and blue tranquility; The eye which rests upon the drowsy scene Beholds a dim horizon, which presents No line of demarcation or of bounds; A merging union, blurred and indistinct; Fuliginous confusion, that the eye In viewing gazes, but no more discerns Which is the earth, and which the azure sky.

But mark the change! A cloud, which floated in the atmosphere, An inconsiderable and feathery speck Of no proportions, now augmented, wears A threatening aspect, ominously dark; Enveloping the heaven's canopy In lowering shadow and portentous gloom; In pall of ambient obscurity. The fork-ed lightnings ramify and play Upon a background of sepulchral black; The growling thunders rumble a reply Of detonation awful and profound, To every corruscation's vivid gleam; In deep crescendo and fortissimo, In quavering tremolo and stately fugue Echoes, reverberates, and dies away!

But soon the sun, with smiling radiance, Through orifice, through rift and aperture, Invades the storm, and dissipates the clouds, Which scatter, cowering and ephemeral, Hugging the cliffs, and o'er the dire abyss Hover, in fleecy, ever changing form, And in a transient season disappear; Vanish, as man must vanish, and are gone.

The moist precipitation of the storm Revives, refreshes and invigorates The various vegetation, and bedews Each blade of grass and floweret with a tear; As nature, weeping o'er the faults of man.

The day recedes, and twilight's neutral shade Succeeds in turn, and ushers in the night, Whose wings, outstretched and shadowy, descend, And in nocturnal mantle robes the scene.

A hush prevails! Oppressive and profound; A silence, broken only by the breeze; A dormant quiet-essence and repose; Pervading calm and sweet oblivion,-- As nature wrapt in soft refreshing sleep.

Far in the east a solitary star Peeps through the sombre curtain of the night-- In hesitating dubitation burns; In lonely splendor, flashes for a time, Till scattering celestial lights appear,-- The vanguard of an astral multitude Of constellations, jewelled and serene, Which fill the lofty dome of space, until The heavens sparkle with the myriad Of spectra, nebulae and satellite; With stellar scintillation, and the orbs Of less refulgence, which, reflective shine; With falling star and trailing meteor; In one grand culmination, glittering To their Creator's glory!

A burst of mellow lunar radiance Inundates and illuminates the scene; The waxing moon, in her meridian full, Her beam vicarious disseminates, And shining, hides with her superior light, The twinkling beauty of the firmament!

At the stupendous and inspiring sight Of cosmic grandeur of the universe, A sense of vague and overwhelming awe; Of inconceivable immensity, The being's inmost recess permeates; And man, the atom in comparison, In spellbound admiration, mutely stands; With speculative meditation, dwells On that most solemn of impressive thoughts, The goodness of the Deity to man!*

----------

*Composed at St. Anthony's hospital, Denver, Colo., from whence the author was led hopelessly blind.

[huck-west]

Weston crashed into the stairs, the monster's jaws snapping mere inches away from his face. "Locke... Little help.."

The gnome raised the cracked and splintered remains of the artifact, a brilliant streak of light slamming into the monstrosity, giving West the moment he needed to roll away.

This had been their life since sacrificing themselves so the others could escape, locked in an eternal battle against the darkness that had threatened Duskwood. Time had no meaning here, and though they never seemed to tire, though they never felt hunger, or thirst in this realm, something else was happening the longer they remained.

It was Father Locke who noticed it, that breathing was more of a habit than a need. Then, much later, that perhaps it wasn't the realm itself that allowed them to go without sleep, water, or food when the monster they were fighting backed off, gasping for air.

Weston raised his hammer while the beast was recovering from Locke's attack, bringing it down, a wet crunch followed by a heavy thud as his hammer went through the monster's head.

"Do you know what I miss most?" Locke made his way to the door of the manor the pair had called home since donning the collars. "Wine."

"I'm surprised, given your profession." Weston chuckled softly.

Locke smiled, letting out a sigh as his eyes focused on the road leading to the manor. What about you?"

"The things I miss have been gone long before I ever found myself here. Only things in my life worth missing." Weston left it at that. He closed his eyes as memories flooded to the surface, reading stories to his son's by the fire, holding his wife in the early hours of the mornings, riding side by side with his Lord. Then other memories pushed through, the hordes of undead crashing through the gates, the sheer madness that filled him as he and the Lord carved a path through the dead only to find his wife, his boys, being made a meal for the abominations. His eyes snapped open. "Damned thing is runnin' late."

Locke hummed thoughtfully. "Mm. Seems so. Odd. You don't think it's over, do you?"

Weston shook his head. "Something tells me if it was over we'd know."

Locke stood up, leaning on the artifact more out of habit than need. "It should have been here already. That's why we're here to keep it at bay, right? The collars are lock and key. That's what we know. West is locked up with the Sunshields, and you and I are here. So why isn't that damned thing running up the road like it has hundreds of times before."

Light streaked, zigged and zagged across the sky, splitting into trails that quickly spread and spider webbed until, with a final shift, the sky shattered. The shards lifted, vanishing into the endless white that peaked through the shards.

"Locke, looks like we have an answer. Whole damn place is collapsing." He felt a familiar pull, both arcane and.. other. Without another thought he grabbed Locke by the collar.

"What the blazes are you d-.." The rest of Locke's protest was cut off. A deep, resonating, deafening gong filled their ears just as the realm around them disappeared in a flash of light.

When the ringing stopped and the smell of the sea in the air hit Weston, he opened his eyes and released Locke's collar.

"Where are we?" The gnome asked, sitting up. Waves lapped at the sand the pair had been deposited.

Weston stared at a horizon, open ocean as far as the eye could see. "Considering how real this all feels.. I'd say we're definitely no longer trapped in that accursed place." Weston reached out with his mind, hoping to find a hint, a tether, something. There it was, a ley line. They were home, or at least one of them.

"What now?" The gnome asked.

Weston simply smiled, shaking his head. Memories twisted and warped, fiction replaced with reality. A tavern, sitting across from a man that could damn well be his twin if he weren't so young. It was a plan that would take years and a plan that wouldn't come to fruition until the man had at least a dozen more seasons under his belt.

"Weston?" Locke sounded worried. He could hear the gnome shuffling through the sand.

The memories still remained at the forefront of his mind. Twisting and shaping the lad into the perfect reflection.

"Are we back?" The gnome turned away. "I.. I think we're back, Weston, we're free!"

A final memory bloomed to the surface.. watching himself hang. The lad had gone around making amends and stirring pots, brewing a believable tale of redemption. One that he'd made certain there wasn't a loose end that wasn't tied tight.

He reached into the folds of the heavy coat that he wore over his armor, fingers closing around the grip of a gnomish pistol, a rail gun revolver crafted by none other than Jakk Boltor.

"If we're back.. aren't you a mage? Can't you teleport us to Stormwind or, hell, anywhere but here." The gnome laughed, his head turning. "Weston?" His eyes went wide as he stared down the barrel.

"Just West." The bastard replied right before he pulled the trigger. Much like with the weapon's creator, the sheer blast from the weapon sent what was left of the gnome tumbling in the sand, meat and blood splattering in a stark contrast against the pale beach. West holstered it, humming thoughtfully to himself as he reached out a hand, feeling the ebb and flow of the ley line, drawing from it, feeding from it.. Duskwood came to mind first, but that image was quickly replaced with another, Southwatch. A smile pulled at his lips as a thought came bubbling to the forefront of his mind. How much he'd love to see his body just one last time.. call it vanity, call it crazy, but curiosity had certainly gripped him in the moment.

The air rippled, twisted, and blurred just beyond his extended arm, before the very fabric of reality tore, revealing a jagged edged portal to an open field. He knew the place, several miles away from anything but close enough for a determined man to make the trek on foot if needed. "Time to go home.."

[beefydnd]

World map for my 1920's campaign setting, Espoir. In this version of the Material Plane, due to an ancient curse placed on the plane itself by an unknown entity, about 60% of the land was rendered uninhabitable. This portion of the world is known as the Starving Wild, a hellscape where probability is turned upside down, making it so anything that can happen, will happen at anytime. The rest of the world has been portioned off by those ancient survivors into massive city-countries called Havens, where the effects of the curse of misfortune are minimized. Due to the curse, the destiny of everyone and everything in Espoir is unstable, fluctuating rapidly and constantly. This has produced cultures, magic, races, and more which are wholly unique and strange in each of these Havens, making this world as diverse as it is dangerous.

In the Scorching Bulwark, the elemental planes of Fire and Earth grind against the mountains of the Material Plane, producing a civilization of elemental and Genasi which prioritizes strength and sportsmanship over all else.

The Elves of the Ulfur Woods, teleporting their civilization to the Feywild over a thousand years ago when the curse first took hold, mysteriously reappeared over the last twenty years. Unfortunately, those that took the trip found that the Feywild too had been afflicted by the curse, the natural chaos of the plane amplified a hundredfold. Whatever has returned to the woods cannot be called elves, their physiologies warped by the chaos of the new Feywild. What they brought with them, terrible warped fey beasts, have taken over the ecosystems of the Emerald Expanse, threatening the world's lumber supplies and more. The Lycanthropes of the Emerald Expanse, given power by the dead body of Salvije, the goddess of the wild whose corpse keeps the power of the curse at bay, fight the waves of fey in a bloody feud over the forest.

In the north-western sands of the Hajere Desert, the proud peoples of the city-state of Hajene fight a rebellious war against the invading armies of the Prime Theocracy, the lack of a Pharaoh opening a hole in power over the government that threatens to tear the civilization apart. On the other side of the great Nekral River lies Al-Hameied, where the corpse of Anubis not only lessens the hold of the curse, but also allows the dead to walk the earth again. Those not properly embalmed and prepared for death return as mindless, ravenous zombies, while those given proper care return as Shabti, the thinking dead who live peaceful, fulfilling unlives so long as they stay within a certain distance to Anubis. Using Hieroglyph magic created by the ancient peoples of Hajene, both civilizations fight to preserve themselves in a world of rapid change and hostile forces.

In the Haven of Hinasho, the goddess of twilight, Filmoria, blessed the land with eternal night so that the peoples of the Underdark, drow, duergar, and deep gnomes, can live in peace and comfort with the tieflings who also sought refuge from the religious prosecution of Sertseyed. There, the four nations of Sakura, Zinpangu, Tsuru-ta-Pang, and Roshasha live in harmony in the light of the artificial moon, each surrounding the great cherry blossom tree Amerata which towers above the Haven, its petals coating the land like snow. However, the Golden Shogunate, bolstered by the increase of Yokai attacks and aid from the Prime Theocracy, seek to end the tenuous peace held in the mists of Hinasho.

In the plateaus of the haven of Darjeel, a rift to the Far Realm holds the curse at bay, yet it provides its own horrors upon the land. Creatures of nightmare and eldritch might stalk the lands below the clouds, keeping the majority of the population regulated to small villages on the peaks of mountains and plateaus high above the cloudline. Of these, the greatest city is Gobi, where only those with the riches and resources can live in peace under the might of the Raj, the occupation by the Prime Theocracy which controls the land with the Sultan as their figurehead.

In the great plains of the Tsarprostoy lies the two Havens of Dracovich and Sertseyed. Between these city-states, the beastmen and cursed victims roam in nomadic tribes, trading wares and stories between each culture. In the city of Dracovich, the dragon goddess of mercy Ydona lies pierced upon one of the cities many crystal spires, her blood perpetually seeping into the water supply. This divine blood has turned the cities water into an incredible font of healing, leading to the majority of the city being populated by doctors of the Hands of Ydona, who regulate the water and use their techniques of healing to train doctors. However, prolonged exposure to the water turns one into a dragonborn or bestows them with dragon sorceries, which conflicts with the city's hatred of Arcane magic which they believe to have caused the curse. This leads many sorcerous denizens of Dracovich to live a life of hiding from the Witch Eater Corps, the citie's defense against magical practitioners, or for their exodus from the city to Avarita. Opposite Dracovich lies the holy city of Sertseyed, where the majority of the world's religions are practiced. This city is built within a massive crater, its churches built on concentric circles called Firmaments surrounding the central Monastery of the First Blood. Beneath this crater lies the body of Baphomet, the demon prince of beasts, whose glaive Heartcleaver driven into his chest as well as the millions of prayers spoken every day in the city proper keeps him from re awakeneing and destroying civilization. While his power keeps the curse at bay, his blood seeping into the land creates terrible abominations that threaten the people of Sertseyed daily, their only protection being the Blood Hunter Corps who use the blood of Baphomet to fight against the waves of his bastard monsters.

In Avarita, the people have created an arcano-technological society built upon the knowledge and artifacts left behind by the ancient people born long before the land was cursed. Powered by Phantasm, liquid magic created by the corpses of extra-planar entities long dead and buried below the ground, these people have created great feats of ingenuity in the form of great cloudliner airships and Auto-Carriages. Beneath the city of New Avarita lies the Tubes, a vast network of caverns holding both the wonders and horrors of long ago, waiting to be discovered.

To obtain this Phantasm, the Haven of Glimmern was founded in the heart of the Starving Wild, where 90% of the worlds Phantasm deposits keep the curse at bay. Colonies from Avarita pump the precious liquid from the earth and transport it to the city via the Glimmern Express, the world's largest train system. However, this resource also decreases the viable landmass the more it is excised from the Haven, causing the tribes of rock Gnomes who have lived there for thousands of years to have to fight for their land, leading to conflicts between themselves and the city of Lone Star.

In the Khern Peaks, where the body of Khern, god of giants, lies dead, nomadic tribes of Dwarves mine the frozen ground for precious minerals and, most importantly, Gaelstone. Created from the destruction of the plane's moon, Grendel, Gaelstone was once said to have created the dwarven race when it interacted with the stone of Espoir. Now, Dwarves all over the world are drawn inexplicably to this dark purple stone, and it fuels their need to craft and take from the earth. No better is this drive seen than in Pirogi, the city of sapphire. Built on the back of a long dead Sapphire Titan, the Dwarves and Goliaths of the Khern Peaks flock here from all over to show off their creations and trade between each other myths, goods, and services. With the death of their god, the Giants of Espoir found themselves unable to bear children, causing the race to begin to spiral towards extinction. To carry on their race, having seen the Dwarves been hewn from Gaelstone, the Giants used their magic and the body of Khern to make the Goliath race, who together with the Dwarves created Rune and Ring magic in order to survive the harsh environment of the Peaks.

As chaos swallowed the world over a thousand years ago, the people who survived the beginnings of the curse sought ways to combat it, to rid the world of its horrors. One civilization succeeded in this, to deleterious effect. The people of the Prime Theocracy were once a peaceful nation of farmers before one of their mages found a way to connect themselves to the Plane of Order, Mechanus. This warped and lobotomized them, turning them into a unfeeling, unthinking machine whose only purpose was to spread the tenets of order. At first, the people were horrified at what this mage had wrought. However, this concentration of order all at once drove the curse farther back than any other force they had seen, allowing those affected to walk the Starving Wild safely. This power was an incredible boone in a world so thoroughly cursed, and it proved too much temptation to the people. They committed themselves to order in its entirety, even sacrificing their very flesh to the machine. Now, this country of mindless, emotionless, tireless machines seeks to commit the whole world to order, in anyway necessary.

Finally, in the north-western reaches of the world lies the burial ground for gods whose names were lost to time, the Isle of Lost Gods. Here, the corpses have formed a landmass of their own, with the city of Paranoia buried in its center. Ruled by an Archvile of the Negative Energy plane, a powerful entity of undeath named Lord Bedlam, this place has become a mecca for those afflicted by the curse, so called "monstrous" races who have no place in the rest of society.

[carrion-whispers]

Hey! Hi! Hello!

This is a side blog for diggingforkuponuts. I made it as a sounding board for my dumb ideas and as a way to remember ideas and happenings in my BG3 plays to offset my poor memory. And a place to collect amazing stuff from other wonderful people.

If you happen to think one of my dumb ideas is smart or like one of my silly lil ocs and then it’s not dumb! And you’re smart! I just self depreciate a lot as a humor tactic. I don’t actually believe any of the self-depreciation I do so it’s fine! Right?

Anyway, I’m on mobile so comments, follows, and likes will come from my main.

I have a few Tavs and Durges with fully fleshed backstories and relationships and lore and stuff but I’m bad at cultivating and recording and in general not being overly anxious about oversharing and using the wrong tags so most of the stuff I come up with stay in my head, drafts box and my screenshots. If you have any questions just ask I guess.

Thanks for stopping in!

Character info in Read More

I’m avoiding burnout on this game by having about 8 concurrent characters running. I have posted intros/infos the important ones (linked at the end.) I have a lot of teiflings gods abound

Good

Carrion - DU/Tav - Barbarian - Teifling - Astarion/Karlach - Tav vers is related to Whisper

Whisper - Tav - Draconic Sorc - Teifling - Astarion - Related to Tav Carrion

Sorrow - DU - Ancients Paladin of Selune - Half Drow - Astarion

Lilliput Kindsong - Tav - Bard - Forest Gnome - Wyll

Tippet Piper - Tav - Bardlock - Deep Gnome - Astarion

My posted characters:

tags: bg3 Carrion | bg3 Whisper | Selunite Sorrow

[spellucci]

Changing Coasts

Tuesday, August 8, 2023

We strike camp on the west side of the island and stop at La Boulangerie AuCoin. This is a bakery which is always crowded, often a line outside the door, and decide to see what all the interest is about. Inside there are 2 LCD screens with several pages of breads, cookies, scones, bars, pies and more. The sign says “Nothing here is gluten free.” Margaret braves the 25 min line to pick up cookies and sandwiches, but not too many items so Jeanne isn’t left out of the fun.

Back on the road we head to the Cabot Trail and back into the park. We say a sad goodbye to the rugged cliffs and Gulf of St Lawrence, heading into the mountains at the northern center of the island. These mountains are almost all flat ridges rather than peaks. As we drive we are able to see ridges of deep green conifers in all directions and steep valleys in between the ridges.

Conversations ensue about how the mountains were made. Jeanne consults Gaia and tells us of the types of rock we are driving over. We discuss the theories of glaciers vs rivers for the valleys. We stop at a pull-out and all is clearly explained with diagrams and helpful visuals.

A young man and his father have stopped as well. Jeanne talks with the father about good RV locations in the west coast of Canada and around Cape Breton as well. The son gets into a conversation with a carful of young women about the geology, flora and fauna of the park. One woman said, “I wish you could get in the car with us and explain it all as we travel.” It’s true, he was pretty handsome!

At one pull-out we were able to see the last of the gulf on the west coast between the cut of the ridges; at the next pull out, there is the Atlantic Ocean in all her glory! Then down we descend into the woods, lower gear, taking it slow due to hairpin turns and head for a trail with waterfalls.

That wasn’t the only draw however, it was a dirt road, and we all know how much J & T love off-road driving! We turn on 4-w drive and head into the potholes, ruts and washboards. Thank goodness we have the new strong suspension! Partway down the road we see a road crew beginning their work to grade the road - it will be welcome once it’s done.

When we get to the end of the long dirt road we park and walk a short way to the Beulach Ban Falls. The falls are full and wide, with water coming about 50 feet down. We stand a long time admiring rivulets and trickles. There’s a rock where the water comes sideways in waves, different each moment. Another spot where a trickle goes down thru some moss and looks like a gnome is washing it’s hair. It’s mesmerizing and gets us thinking about how many native cultures use animate language for water. It does seem alive and powerful and gentle all at once. We also notice a cave about 20 feet up in the rocks to the left. What made that cave we wonder and on go the discussions of geology and erosion.

There is a 6 km trail leading from the falls into the woods on track that is clearly some type of road. The trail crosses a number of streams leading into the North Aspy River slightly below us as we hike. Tim brings up the discussion of how each bridge is constructed. Jeanne ponders what vehicles could even drive on this track as the bridges are so narrow. Margaret continues her discussion of the trees and admires some old silver birches. The woods are open, the mosses are lush and the mushrooms are having their day - popping up everywhere.

As we head back we begin to think we must be on an ATV track and as we arrive back at our starting point we see how they must have crossed a really rocky, steep spot just to get on the trail.

In the evening we drove south to look for a dinner spot with a view. As we drove we were greeted with signs on the side of the road. “Your mother texted.” “Send a picture from the top.” “Blueberry jam.” It was all to advertise a mini-ski resort. It seemed so incongruous to have it right across from a harbor and overlooking the Atlantic. We pulled onto the wharf next to the small harbor for our dinner.

[angstfactory]

"Sounds like a good friend." The way Bianca lit up about her friend and gushed over Mollie so genuinely, brought a small smile to Jesse's lips. It made him like the older woman even more. She so obviously cared about the people in her life, and well... Jesse felt that wasn't as common as folks wanted to believe.

"Trust me," the man said, taking a deep breath as he rubbed a hand over his stubbled chin, "I'm tryin'." Jesse had been at this for so long already though, and as the days wore into weeks, months, then years... It didn't get any easier to keep positive about any of it. "When I first came in, I asked around," as he always did when he got to a new place. "N' recently, my buddy Kai.. think he was tryin' to help me, too. But.." Now, some further embarrassment and a sense of uncomfortableness went through him, as he shifted weight and cleared his throat. This confession, it felt silly to make and who knew what Bianca would think of it? The man wasn't even aware she was a witch, either. That was a bad habit of Jesse's, actually-- it was too easy for him to pretend everyone else was just human and average like himself. "I dunno, I wasn't too comfortable with the idea," he admitted. "Just.. there's some special people in town n' I dunno how to take any of it anymore," he went on, referring to the supernatural. "Like, I know my sister ran off with one of 'em n' my neighbor.." Here, he gestured the way towards Aisley's home. "She caused all of this," now the male looked pointedly at the evidence of all the vines and overgrown vegetation that had taken over his junkyard after she blew up at him-- literally. "N' I ran into her at the festival that night, too.. which, wasn't fun.. N' now I've got a few more bumps n' bruises over me for it.. I know it wasn't her fault," he mumbled these words as he didn't look at Bianca, "but it ain't less scary to know there's folks out here that can just.. do whatever they gonna do to me n' I can't do nothin' about it." Jesse shrugged. "At this point, I dunno if I shouldn't just mind my own business.. the further I get involved with people, the more dangerous this all gets, it seems."

Jesse finally did look back at her. "Yeah, makes sense," he agreed, able to relate to something like that. Just about anyone could, he'd wager. Hell, the other day he had gone off on several of his friends. Kara had gotten the worst of it, actually, and Jesse still felt terrible for the things he'd said. Now, here he was, with her sister right in front of him and she was being so damned nice... Was Bianca even aware of what happened with Kara? Or her brother? Suddenly, Raven's Peak felt a bit smaller than usual. "I don't think anyone that knows you would ever think you'd have a mean bone in your body," he told the woman. Shit, he wasn't about to tell on himself on either of those fronts right now. He was already lucky not to get his ass handed to him over the gnome. "Says a lot that you're out here feelin' as bad as you do, too," he pointed out. "You're a nice lady, Bianca. Maybe it ain't my place to say so but ah, I think you need'a go a lil' easier on yourself."

"Oh she's great! Literally one of the nicest people you could ever meet." Bianca quickly said, always quick to compliment her friends and loved ones. "She did, she knew I would love him. It was a few years ago? I really don't remember, it feels like he's been in our family forever though."

"I'm sure she is. You just have to keep a positive attitude. Have you tried asking anyone here for help? There's a lot of people in town that are good at finding other people." She never had to use those particular skill sets herself but she knew people who did.

Bianca could barely look at him in the eye when she admitted that she was possessed. It was hard for her, still hard for her, and she hated showing just how shook up she was about all of it. "Yeah very much so. I've been trying to apologize to people and I know they get it but that doesn't mean I forgive myself for all of it." Which that was one of the biggest problems, wasn't it? Bianca was beating herself up more than anyone else could have.