#its improved on tumblr but people were still behaving like this the last time i was active in the fandom

[f1zzlest1ckzz]

prev tags but this riles me so bad in the sr fandom and im glad theyve cut it out now but. i dont know about sr2 or the reboot, but the sr fandom generally didnt like the women in sr3. shaundi got labelled as bitchy, i think viola did too, and kinzie was treated GROSS for being. idk. mean? stubborn? openly kinky? the latter she wasnt even much open about and got super defensive and awkward if you brought it up. anyways.

shaundi is "bitchy" because shes fucking traumatised. she became sick of having to be rescued all the time and not sticking up for herself ever. she got used to getting high so she'd be a pushover and it Became Too Fucking Much. and youd rather label her as a bitch and out of character, for what??? because its different to how she is in the fan favourite game? (sr2)

no one really talks about viola or asha which also BUGS ME because ugghghh. 1. theyre hot and 2. THEYRE STRONG!!!!!!

maybe saints row's fandom being majority cishet men doesnt do it any favours but. god. the women in those games dont get treated well much

[bookstantrash]

A/N: Sorry, I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t. Ghost mode is officially dead. It was stronger than me.

I will, however, disappear from tumblr once Release Week begins, but in the mean time enjoy some words that I wrote.

In which she makes a friend, Part Seven

“Cassian, for Cauldron’ sake, stop with your fidgeting”

“I am not fidgeting, Azriel” Cassian said, eyeing the females training and making sure that Devlon was at least trying to teach them.

“You almost blinded me with your wings three times in the last ten minutes” the Shadowsinger huffed back, taking a step back and putting some distance between them.

Cassian just snorted but did check himself, realising he really was flaring his wings a little, a nervous tick that came out whenever he was distressed with something.

Not that he was recalling his conversation with Nesta during training yesterday, how he had been delighted to see her improvement and her beginning to master her powers.

Not that he was remembering how he could hear her heart beating quickly when he had pulled her close.

Not that he had had to muster every ounce of strength and control he had to not fall at her feet and beg for a kiss, for a touch, for anything when he smelled her scent.

Not that he had felt guilty of not telling her of the Illyrian revolution that was probable to happen.

Not that he was remembering how his heart had stopped when he asked her if she wanted to leave.

He would do that. Would help her walk away. From him, from the situation Feyre had forced upon her. But it didn’t mean it would not hurt him to watch her go.

Didn’t mean he would not reach the conclusion that he had failed her once again.

Cassian thought he and Nesta were making progress, but after yesterday he stopped trying to convince himself of that.

Things between them were awkward when they saw each other again at the afternoon training with Kaelin, and for once he was grateful for the boy’s constant chattering.

It was a good way to take his mind of his worries.

And the way Nesta seemed to relax and almost smile whenever Kaelin said something or nailed move was a relief to Cassian’s troubled heart. It was an accidental blessing that he cherished with all his life.

No, Cassian preferred to think that his actual state of mind was due to all the new documents and information he would have to go through after Azriel’s arrival, and maybe a little bit worried of how Nesta’s and Azriel’s encounter would go.

He knew her and his brother were not close — he had never even seen they talking to one another — but Cassian worried that Azriel’s presence may bring forth uncomfortable memories of the rest of the IC to Nesta, neither having the best relationship, specially after that party at the Sidra in summer solstice.

Cassian could only hope and pray that the little progress he had seen Nesta go through in five months would not go down the drain.

“There are more females today” Azriel noted, taking Cassian out of his daydreaming.

“There are” he looked over the training ring, eyeing the small group of eleven Illyrian females.

It was the biggest number he’d ever had so far.

After the war with Hybern, the death of many Illyrians took its tool in the ranks. Although it was a reason for dissatisfaction to arise, it was surprising to see a number of females wanting to train. Many had lost fathers, brothers or lovers.

They had realised that nobody would protect them except themselves now, and slowly the number of females appearing had gotten bigger.

Some came and stayed only for a few self defence classes. Some were coming steadily for more than one session.

Cassian didn’t care if they wanted to be warriors or not. The fact that they were coming and wanted to learn was enough for him.

“Baby steps Cassian” he thought, hope blooming on his chest for the first time in a long while as Devlon dismissed the group, for once having taught them with more attention.

Cassian suspected Azriel’s presence was a weight on the camp lord’s mind, and an undesirable reminder to try this time.

“I’ve to stop somewhere first before we go back” Cassian said to the shadowsinger, who watched Devlon leave the training ring without a glance in their direction.

Azriel only shrugged, not minding the delay at dinner and indicating that he’d accompany Cassian.

Not long after, both Illyrians were entering a clothier, the bell in the door chiming and announcing their presence.

“Look who decided to pay a visit”

“Now, did the oh so ruthless Emerie miss me?” Cassian smirked, leaning against the polished counter where Emerie was.

“It was not me who was left for two months alone in a cabin” she retorted, her brown eyes twinkling with wicked delight seeing Cassian’s shocked expression.

“You know—”

“Yes I know Nesta, she was here not so long ago for tea” the female answered, as if Nesta going out and having tea with Illyrians was nothing out of the ordinary.

“How—”

“If she did not tell you of our encounter, I don’t think I should be the one to explain the particulars of our meeting” Emerie cut him again, raising an eyebrow in question.

Cassian was baffled.

“Since when had Nesta befriended Illyrans?” he thought to himself, having mixed feelings about it.

In one hand, he was happy she was putting herself out there, meeting people, living.

On the other hand, he felt a pang of jealousy and hurt go through his heart. Nesta had not told him any of that. Had not bothered to tell him of what she did on her spare time outside the morning and evenings trainings with him.

“But did you give her a reason to trust you?” Cassian thought with regret “Did you ask about her day? Did you tell her about yours?”

Trust was an one way road. And Cassian had lost the map which would direct him to it.

He also had to put himself out there. He had to open himself to Nesta if he wanted to mend their already tethered relationship.

Cassian had to stop being afraid of hurting his heart again when he had already hurt hers.

And he realised that not even another heartbreak would be enough to keep himself away from Nesta.

“But I take you did not come here to chat with me” Emerie said, eyeing Azriel, who was looking at her with curiosity.

“Not this time. But do invite me for tea” he grinned, trying to gather his lost swagger “The weather is about to change. I would like to purchase some clothes before autumn ends”

“The usual?” she asked, returning her sharp gaze to Cassian’s face.

“Today is light shopping,” he answered, dropping some coins on the counter.

Azriel shot him a puzzled look, but Emerie understood him just fine.

She gathered some clothes, and Cassian noticed that she also placed small sized ones too.

Emerie no doubt knew about Kaelin.

And she knew that Cassian would not let the kid go through autumn and then winter with hand me downs and fixed clothes, no matter how good of a seamstress Nesta was.

If Azriel noticed the clothes, he didn’t let it show.

Cassian also thought his brother was too busy inspecting Emerie to noticed anything else.

It had surprised him too the first time.

A female with a will strong enough to fight to be the sole owner of a shop in a place like Illyria.

Emerie had a fire that reminded him of Nesta. No wonder both females had somehow found their way to each other.

“Oh, please put this too” Cassian said, and quickly grabbed a leather strap he had spied on one of the shelves.

“Have you lost another one? I swear, you go through this things as if they’re water” Emerie ruffed, placing it with the rest of the order.

“It’s not for me.”

“Thinking of gifting it to Nesta?” Azriel said with a chuckle “Tell her to braid her hair with it?”

“As if Cassian was stupid enough to gift it to a Lady to tie her hair with” Emerie snapped, and Cassian laughed at the shocked expression on Azriel’s face “He knows her better than you think he does.”

“Charming as ever Emerie” Cassian said, gathering his purchase and bidding the female goodbye.

This time, Cassian didn’t fail to notice how his brother’ shadows were agitated.

And how they kept trying to go back to the clothier.

~•~

Cassian stopped breathing. Stopped living altogether as he looked at Nesta.

Nesta, who was sitting on the couch, reading.

He didn’t even have a mind to say how she did not light the fireplace, not as he saw what she wearing.

Because Nesta Archeron was not wearing one of her usual dresses.

She was wearing the clothes Cassian had left in her drawer all those months ago, when she had first arrived at Illyria. Clothes he not seen her ever wearing.

Until today.

Cassian had seen Nesta wearing pants. Hell, he saw her almost everyday now wearing the leathers, and his reaction at their first training was not so different as to when he had seen her at the war.

He had to constantly remind himself to breath and think with his upper head. To not make a fool out of himself.

But this time it was different.

Because Nesta was wearing leggings.

Mother’s tits, what had he been thinking when he left those leggings in her drawer?

Nesta wore dark leggings and a burgundy sweater, a little big on her due to her still too thin figure, something Cassian hoped to change.

And her hair. Cauldron, her hair was not on its usual coronet, but a loose braid, a few strands of her light hair falling over her eyes.

Cassian wanted to brush them behind her pointed ear.

Wanted to kiss and mark her slim neck. Feel her pulse under her soft skin.

Wanted to cover her body with his wings and scream at Azriel to leave.

But he did none of that. He willed his body and his temper to behave, and cleared his throat, making Nesta look up from her book.

Even though he was sure she had been monitoring their every breaths as soon as they arrived at the cabin.

“Hello Ness, did you have a pleasant day?” he tried, wanting to test her mood.

“I was having one until someone decided to disturb it” she answered, but Cassian noticed she did not put so much bite in her words as she did when she truly was annoyed “And don’t call me that”

“Well, I come bearing presents” doing a mocking bow and bracing himself for the worst, he looked at Azriel.

The shadowsinger’ Siphons gleamed, and a brown package appeared on the small table in front of Nesta.

“What is that”

A memory of a conversation during Winter Solstice, outside among the snow, resurfaced, and Cassian quickly shut it down.

“Tell you and ruin the surprise?” Cassian faked outrage, placing a hand on his heart “As if I could do that. You will want it.”

“I don’t want anything from you.”

Cassian resisted the urge to close his eyes and scream in pain. Those words, that memory, kept appearing against his better wishes.

He had been an asshole.

Had regretted his words the moment they had left his mouth.

He had wanted to get a reaction from Nesta. Do it the way it usually was between them.

Blown being met by blown.

Fire against fire.

He had been stupid to think it would work.

Had been even more stupid to not apologise afterwards.

But this Nesta was not the Nesta from his memories. Was not the Nesta from a year ago.

He could only hope her reaction would be different.

“Are those... are those books?” Nesta asked, trying to hide her surprise as she opened it, reading the titles.

“I thought you would have gotten bored of reading the same books over and over again” Cassian said, hoping he didn’t sound as nervous as he thought he was.

“And they must be more interesting than my military books” he added, indicating the long forgotten book Nesta had been reading when he arrived.

Nesta only looked at him and slightly dipped her chin in gratitude.

Cassian wanted to dance in happiness at that.

“Good to know that now you have a personal delivery boy to get whatever I want” Nesta said, directing her words at Azriel.

“As if I would do it for free” he snorted “Cassian promised to cook my favorite dish in payment. He’s the errand guy.”

“He does seem to like to be bossed around” she commented innocently, and that earned her a rare grin from Azriel.

“He also requested children’s books” the shadowsinger eyed her figure and raised an eyebrow “You two need a chaperone up here?”

Cassian tensed, not knowing what to expect from Nesta.

“Are you looking for a new job? Playing spy getting too boring?” Nesta replied, also raising a perfect eyebrow mockingly.

“Perhaps” was all the shadowsinger said, and Cassian took that as a cue to get between them.

“They’re for Kaelin, I thought they’d be easier books to read for now than the ones we have here”

Cassian had asked Azriel to get some old myths books for Kaelin, nothing too childlike but also not too difficult for him. He hadn’t wanted to offend the kid by giving him something too easy, having seen his progress with Nesta.

“And who is that anyway?” Azriel asked.

“He’s our new roommate” Cassian joked, not failing to notice how Nesta had flinched slightly when Azriel had asked about Kaelin.

“Kaelin is too young to live like he had been living” Nesta declared, stiffening her spine “I took him in. And he’s going to stay here”

Azriel said nothing, his shadows seeming to catch something in Nesta’s voice, and his eyes softened.

“I’m sure he’s nothing but nice if he’s keeping up with Cassian” he attempted “I’d like to meet him”

Just then, they heard the door opening.

“Ah, there he is!” Cassian exclaimed, a smile appearing.

That smile, however, weakened as Kaelin came into view, quieter than usual.

And Cassian thought he’d have to be the one to wear that leather strap in the end.

For Kaelin’s hair — once a wild mess of curls, who constantly feel on his eyes — had been sloppily cut, no curl at view.

In fact, he looked nothing like Kaelin at all.

There was a tension in him that had not been there before, the young Illyrian brown eyes’ seeming to look bigger on his face now that they were not hidden by his bangs anymore.

And the short cropped hairstyle that Kaelin now displayed also made the fresh bruises on his face even more alarming.

•

Fixed tag list: @sayosdreams @thewayshedreamed @sjm-things @perseusannabeth @arin1030 @caotica-e-quieta @vidalinav @swankii-art-teacher @ireallyshouldsleeprn @duskandstarlight @greerlunna @thegoddessaltenia @dayanna-hatter @verypaleninja @awesomelena555 @courtofjurdan @allilal @sensitiveillyrian @moe8 @illyrianwitchling13 @silvernesta @bri-loves-sunflowers @queenestarcheron @imwritingthesewords @vasudharaghavan @rainbowcheetah512 @darkshadowqueensrule @letstakethedawn

{Please let me know if you’d like to be added in Fixed Tag list}

[smol-nevi]

I don't generally make this kind of thing a habit, but I think if you happen to be on the Crystal RP Discord, aka @crystal-rp-ffxiv, you should probably be aware of this kind of behavior, so here goes.

If you're on Crystal RP and the admin team decides they don't like you, you're going to be living under a microscope while they wait for you to mess up, if not bait you, probably while making up conspiracies about you as well. As for how I know this, I was a moderator for about a week's duration and saw it first-hand.

Unapologetically lengthy post. Receipts in the link above, long version below the cut.

From the first time I looked in the mod chat I knew something was wrong. I read backwards in the channel, thinking I'd acclimate myself and see what kind of rules precedents had been set and that sort of thing. I mostly just found out that they had it out for a particular member (at the time using the name Jericho) for not much reason. They'd spent a troubling amount of time over the past few months watching him and another member like vultures, believing them to be the same person and waiting for them to make some kind of mistake that would justify banning both of them...despite keeping different schedules, having different personalities and typing habits, and visibly being two different people. The admin team had come to the conclusion that Jericho was a troll who wanted to make them look bad, and anything he said or did was scrutinized to a ridiculous degree for evidence that would corroborate their belief.

Except none of the things they believed at all were true: he'd had a minor argument via DM with the head admin Benjimir Thursby's wife, Tessariel Aerlinn, who had made an overly broad statement about anime and Asian culture. Jericho had told her that overgeneralization about 'Asian culture' is potentially racist, and she became extremely angry, saying that because she's Asian, she can't be racist against Asians. After that, it seemed that Jericho was considered fair game for whatever retaliatory actions the two of them could justify.

Even a cursory glance at actual racism in Asia pokes Tessariel's statement entirely full of holes, and having personally read the conversation I didn't see anything actually inaccurate in his statement even if she believed it didn't apply to her. I asked what he had done that would merit such a response, because it felt very disproportionate to anything I'd ever seen him do publicly, and that was what I was told. The exchange via DMs had been screencapped and kept in a channel for evidence, and while I didn't get a copy of it, I did read it, and I said that I thought it sounded awfully one-sided and punitive and would have been much better as an actual conversation. I also expressed that I was concerned how much of the channel had been solely devoted to what was basically a witch hunt, considering that some of the server members had over the course of the past couple of months commented that the admins' behavior towards Jericho seemed biased.

I basically got a pat on the head and told that my opinion was "valued" but wrong. This would happen a lot over the course of the week.

Shit continued to escalate. Their favorite punching bag, who was acutely aware of the grudge by now and probably trying to be nice and discuss something that he thought they could all talk about, brought up some articles that stated that LOTRO might be having a graphical overhaul. This actually ended in him being put into some kind of time-out mute, because "everyone knows those articles are debunked already" despite them still being hosted on reputable games news sites. Back-channel, the admin consensus was that he was in fact trying to bait Benjimir and Tessariel into somehow looking stupid in public, because [paraphrasing] 'he knows how important LOTRO is to them.'

Benjimir in fact went off publicly about how he knows the dev team and they sent him 'personalized swag' for 'being himself' and that everyone should just listen to him because he's right. Someone else made a reasonable request for sources on statements that Benjimir made about the LOTRO improvements not happening, and they immediately became the team's private #2 punching bag.

The whole time I reiterated that this was really uncomfortable and I had serious concerns about the way they were handling Jericho. And as always I received a pat on the head and was told to not worry about it, there were really good reasons for it, really. He was 'bringing down the quality of discourse' on the server somehow. Benjimir decided that the only way he would unmute Jericho is if Jericho talked directly to him, and that Jericho tried to talk to any of the more level-headed members of the team first was taken as obvious evidence that he wanted to evade rules and create problems. I asked when we planned to unmute him, and Tessariel immediately jumped to the conclusion that he had messaged me, which wasn't incorrect but the way she worded it felt highly accusatory and I was beginning to feel that I was also in trouble somehow for not agreeing with the rest of the team.

Things came to a head quickly when I woke up and looked at the mod chat and they were having an animated conversation that started with Benjimir asking if it was 'bad that he was laughing at Jericho' and most of the rest of the team talking about how he was stupid, uninformed, a troll, etc. for the sin of having some misgivings about cryptocurrency, of all the things. One of the mods self-described their behavior as bullying. I said that this was extremely unprofessional and that I thought they should keep conversation to actual moderation matters, and if they had a personal disagreement with a server member they should handle it in a personal venue, not via official server moderation channels.

I was, for the final time, patted on the head, and told that this was not something they would consider, because the moderation team 'needs to be able to vent for their mental health' (never mind that the job was not stressful except for the rest of the team committing worse behavior than the server members) and that maybe I was in fact too sensitive for the job. Benjimir heavily implied that I had become too close to Jericho and was being manipulated, managed to misgender me somehow despite my having used solely male or neutral pronouns the entire time I'd been on the server, and after relating a story in which a couple of years ago a well-liked moderator left after having the same complaints as I did (which he saw nothing at all troubling about), suggested that I should be demoted to babysitting the lore channel.

So I took some time to collect receipts, which are linked at the top of the post, and told him where to shove it.

Since that time, things have actually somehow gotten worse on Crystal RP. Benjimir posted an entire page screed vaguely talking about "rampant negativity" that stated anyone with questions should DM him.

Upon DMing him with questions, Jericho was banned, the only reason given being that he was a 'poor fit' for the server in some vague way. I was immediately banned afterwards for calling out this decision as being driven by a personal vendetta in the feedback channel and let him know afterwards via DMs in no uncertain terms that I had logged everything I needed and would be building my case (and that he is an asshole). Jericho was reinstated, though I'm not sure what the conditions of his return were as that was after my ban and I didn't ask since I didn't want to stress him out further. Benjimir also reprimanded someone for discussing asexuality, stating in a DM to them that the conversation was somehow ERP related. I called him out on this via DM as well. Tessariel was not much later caught posting my last DMs to Benjimir in an entirely unrelated server, though she didn't include the part after that where I brought up his aphobia (during Pride Month, in a server with a rainbow icon no less). Benjimir for some reason decided to suddenly start following my FC's Tumblr well after our falling-out.

And as of today (6/24), Crystal RP now has seven pages of draconian rules, because it wasn't micromanaged hard enough before or something. Notably, a lot of these rules describe behaviors that they wanted to punish Jericho for but couldn't at the time justify, or that they'd like to punish me for but have nothing they can do to me. Or they exist to justify their own behavior, as now seen in the very beginning of the channel:

"This approach also provides our volunteers with leeway to act in good faith without the burden befitting a professional occupation."

"So we afford them the means to speak openly, vent, lament, candidly and yes, sometimes crassly and raw about everything and one."

Not only did they behave unprofessionally and shit-talk before, they have now encoded in the rules that this is acceptable and even good moderator behavior, because they saw someone else do it so it's fine (a lot of this wording is very similar to what I was told when I protested it). So rather than address anything I ever said past or present, Benjimir is choosing to double down and giving himself and his team explicit permission to be shitty, right in the opening paragraphs where you'd have expected a mission statement or at least some sort of welcome.

Which is about all you need to know about that server and its owners, in my estimation. I'd considered not even posting to Tumblr about it, but given that it's only getting worse, I think it should be generally known that this is how you can expect to potentially be treated.

[seyaryminamoto]

Do you have any advice on how to draw clothing? I’ve been trying to get into making my own art and all my characters look like they are walking around in socks 😂. Idk how you do it so well

... that the day has come when someone has asked me how I draw ANYTHING is genuinely mindblowing to me xD I know I've upped my game in fabrics lately but this is surreal xD Am I really gonna do an art tutorial, for the first time ever in my whole life?!

Well, for you, Anon, I shall try xD

First off, you're going to want to doodle a basic body shape. I am not going to pretend I am good at doodling body shapes. Nope. But what matters there is getting the position of your character, figuring out what goes where. Once you have that, you go to stage two, and that is putting clothes on 'em!

You can start with basic clothes, the way I did. I simply draw them atop the body outline, then erase whatever bits of the body the fabric will cover up. Depending on what kind of clothes you're drawing, the fabric behaves differently. But what you need to keep in mind is that fabric usually has its own volume, weight, and is affected by a body's movements and positioning. As this body is in a general, simple standing position, the fabric doesn't need to move around MUCH... but it does need to move around a bit if we want it to feel legit.

For the sake of making it look more real, you have to account for where the folds show up more often in clothes. My typical choices for that are locations where fabrics overlap, or where there are joints. Feel free to add a few extra folds here and there, of course, especially if the clothes are meant to be baggy and with a lot of air! The clothes that aren't baggy, however, like (in this case) the gloves or the arm bandages, as they're meant to be tight on the body, won't need folds unless you're drawing something highly detailed with a very peculiar hand shape.

After that, it's base color time! Base color is very very important, as the shades and lighting will be derived from that initial hue. Gotta pick each color right!

Now... SHADING! This is something I used to do with air brush tools. Currently, as I'm working on Clip Studio Paint, I use this fabrics' brush and it has really improved my fabrics' game, so if you can find a good brush that gives your fabrics more texture, it'll help heaps :D if you can't, however, the basic air brush tool, on any art software I've used, can achieve good results on its own.

Normally, when I color, I select the fabric's color, all of it, to avoid unwanted accidents with color bleeding out all over the place. I believe some people just make different layers for everything, but I like pain (?) So, believe it or not, the most important part here is selecting the right color: I leveled up big time in art on the day I started choosing more saturated colors for shadows. I typically went for gray-ish shadow tones, back in the day... but in my humble opinion, it does not hit the same way as more saturated shadows do.

The first one there is the base color, the second one the shading color and the last one is the lighting color. As you can see, I'm not that far inside the black area of the color wheel in the shading one, but I'm choosing a much more intense shade of blue, and that results in a contrast that doesn't require a lot of darkness to feel right.

As for where to apply your shading? That's in fact what the folds are for! :D they serve as guidelines, pretty much, for how you'll shift the color across the fabric. At the shading stage you can even add extra folds you didn't place in your lineart too, if you want, but what matters most is that they will give your clothing volume and texture.

Just as it is with the shading, lighting will lean on the folds as well!

(don't fret, we ain't done yet xD gotta soften that lighting later, naturally...)

I picked a much brighter color for the lighting, and far closer to white. This can work fairly well, but you can also choose a more saturated color if you want to, in some clothes. Makes them feel extra luxurious in my experience xD One of my tricks here is that there will be parts touched by the light that will be brighter than others. Hence why you can see that, while I applied my brush all over the folds, some parts are softer than others. This as well provides texture to the piece, and a dynamic feel that offers it extra volume.

With my base color once again, I've softened the lighting by brushing the base color over it veeeery lightly, and lo and behold! Looks a lot more normal now, right? :D and the colors blend well into each other (if you can't achieve this with a simple airbrush, the blending tool, applied carefully, can result in a similar outcome).

You can use the lighting and shadows to highlight some body shapes too: see how there's shading on that thigh, but instead of flowing right back into the base color, it shifts into the lighting color directly? That helps in giving the fabrics some shape too, therefore, the lineart isn't the only bit that matters in giving fabrics the behavior you may be looking for.

And as I wasn't even sure what number we were at anymore, here we go, step number ?, finish up lighting and shading everything XD I left it with very basic lighting and shading because Tumblr won't let me add any more images to a single post *shakes fist* but usually I play with layer modes, namely Multiply, Glow Dodge, or Color Dodge, to get some extra volume and feeling in clothes. Still, the bulk of the work is what you've seen here :D

Alright, some last tricks I want to share: if you take the lighting shades and brush them veeeeeeeery softly over the edges of each element in the artwork, you can get a really nice contrast that makes the clothes more realistic, to a fault. And one last important thing to point out is... commit to your shadows and lights xD if one area of the shirt is bright and, say, there's another layer of fabric right below it, you have to try your best to follow the pattern of lighting and shading that you set up in the first clothing item you shaded and lit up (?) if that makes sense xD if it doesn't, I'll try to explain it better in another ask, if you send one :D

Anyway! I hope this has been helpful, if it's not thorough enough then I'll have to think of some other way to pack up a proper tutorial that Tumblr won't attempt to destroy x'D but good luck with your next art ventures, and may all the fabrics be on your side in the future! :D

[angerissue]

Anonymous asked… What is your take on Bruce Banner's love interest? Whether we’re mutuals or not, feel free to ask me about Bruce!

Oh, this is a good question, and something I haven’t discussed in months. Thanks for asking it!

This version of Bruce is hopelessly in love with Betty Ross. He’ll always love her, even if they’re miles apart, and both of them have moved on and dismissed the hopes of seeing each other again. Even if Bruce were to meet someone else, his feelings for her would remain in perpetuity.

I’ve written some headcanons with someone (she's no longer on tumblr, sadly) where Bruce and Betty met in a library during their university years, and the whole dynamic was very much a friends-to-romance one. Their earlier interactions were essentially the "study buddies" kind, and I imagine it was the combination of their shared work and interests, and the comfortability in talking about that stuff, that snowballed into other conversations and ultimately, a romantic relationship. And it continued up until Bruce's accident.

This pairing has always been very special to me because, unlike the others, Betty was the first person to see a far more vulnerable side of Bruce. Bruce has always been an extremely closed-off and reticent person; he hates revealing too much about himself because he feels this information could be abused somehow; that somebody would take issue with what he was telling them, just like how Brian would react vehemently whenever he watched educational children’s television shows, or played with certain toys. Betty was the first person that Bruce felt comfortable enough to open up to, in multiple manners. Not only would he discuss Brian with her (granted, sometimes he didn’t say much, but even dropping a few tiny mentions of Brian was huge for him), but he also felt like he could simply be himself around her. He didn’t need to keep his guard up around Betty like he did around other people. He was still sky, awkward, and nerdy around Betty, but he could voice his opinions more confidently in her presence. And the adaptation I've been writing with; she’s a slightly more modern version of the character — soft and gentle, but she has a temper of her own and a tangible boldness in certain situations, and it can be a subtle juxtaposition to Bruce’s own personality at times. It’s quite lovely.  

There are other aspects of the relationship, here and there, that I also love. In "The Incredible Hulk" (2008), Betty could swear that she saw some aspect of Bruce in the Hulk, and Bruce refused to accept such a possibility at first, because he believed the Hulk was a sentient and autonomous being — a belief that had grown over the years, predominantly because of his immense guilt and an unconscious desire to reduce his sense of culpability. If the Hulk somehow wasn’t him, its destructive actions were no longer entirely his fault. But after the Chitauri invasion, at which point he was able to remember his actions as the Hulk, and self-assess his behaviour in that state, Bruce realized she was correct about everything. If it wasn’t for Betty and the statement she made, he may not have fully accepted the Hulk as a part of himself — as himself, and he would’ve been stuck in denial for years. Lots of his development can be attributed to Betty, even if they aren’t in touch anymore.

Not only this, but Bruce met Betty during a time where he hadn’t experienced all his hardships with Ross. He was nowhere near as world-weary, and while he didn’t trust people much back then, either, it was better than his tendencies nowadays. In that sense, Betty is one of his last few connections to the past, and a time when he was more hopeful and innocent.

But while Bruce can control his condition now, he hasn’t reconnected with Betty. She's been in the dark ever since the Harlem incident, save for glimpses of him on the news here and there.

Bruce does want to see Betty again. He would love to see her. But he’s made some personal discoveries related to his condition that convinced him he’s not a good fit for her, or anyone in general. He doesn’t see himself as completely human anymore, which has become even more of a tangible sentiment ever since his transformations became a typical and even daily occurrence. As a result, there are some philosophical quandaries that prevent him from resuming a romantic relationship with her, or with anyone else. Given his current development trajectory, he would be the Hulk almost constantly in later verses. It’s not an ideal scenario to create a potential relationship from — especially with Betty, because he’s unable to meet some of her needs when he's the Hulk. Additionally, he cannot guarantee Betty’s safety with Ross still around, because he doesn’t know if Ross is still looking for a way to capture him. He suspects there were times in the past when Ross backed off temporarily, like after the Chitauri invasion, because capturing the Hulk at that time would have caused a huge public outcry, but nowadays, he’s unsure where Ross’ intentions lie. He's unwilling to take the risk.

All this being said, Bruce doesn’t expect Betty to remain loyal to him, or vice versa, because he understands the necessity of moving on and not dwelling on the past. It would be melancholic if Bruce discovered that Betty had met someone new, yes (this was certainly the case with Leonard Samson), but ultimately, he would be happy for her, and he’d tell himself that his own feelings don’t matter if it means she’s content and safe. Of course, there is always the possibility that Banner could reach out with letters, or another kind of communication channel. And it's possible that if Ross was gone and the world was more settled, he would meet her in-person, even if he didn't intend to restart a romantic relationship. At that point, there’s nothing stopping them from sharing their work and collaborating professionally, too. This kind of interaction could eventually become the norm. But I don’t really see their relationship shifting to a romantic one again.

So I suppose in the end, I don’t see their relationship as having a cliché happy ending, in the sense that they end up together, are happily married, and are living in their own little cottage somewhere. I see it as a mature progression from young love, to a failed effort to make things work in a terrible situation, and then an acceptance of knowing, while their situation has improved, it’s still not going to work out. And they both have the courage to run with things and make the best of it. Betty would be understanding of Bruce’s situation, as she’s always been, and in concurrence, Bruce would be happy as well, because he knows Betty can have a romantic relationship with someone who completely presents as human. They can still work together too, which is a callback to how their relationship first began in the library. And it continues to build on all the trust and confidence they initially showed each other, and continued to show each other, over the years.

So it’s very bittersweet.

I’m also going to mention the pairing of Bruce and Natasha, because I need to assert that I do enjoy this ship! As a matter of fact, it’s something I’ve enjoyed for years and years. I was one of the wierdos who was shipping them soon after the release of The Avengers, earlier than most to the point where the tag was completely blank. I guess for me, there was something unique about their dynamic in The Avengers that stood out from Bruce’s other interactions. Natasha was ordered to approach the doctor in Kolkata, and at that point, she had seen the Hulk's capabilities in-person during her involvement in the Culver University incident. Her distrust of Bruce and his alter ego was justified, especially given her personal experiences with everything, and while it may (or may not) have lessened over the course of the film, Natasha clearly came to respect Bruce at the very least, and she understood the benefits of not only putting his intellect to good use, but the Hulk itself. During the final battle, Bruce had come on his own volition and was fully prepared to transform, but she still made the active effort to tell him the Hulk was valuable. Given her past experiences with the Hulk, this meant a lot coming from her. And it's clear this wasn't just a "tactical" choice on her part; if she didn't say anything, the outcome wouldn't have been any different. This was a nice way to end the film and create a foundation for their future development between them. If their relationship continued to open up, I could certainly see them developing feelings for each other.

But the next film... Eugh. I was gravely disappointed by the sudden schoolgirl-crush syndrome that Natasha was demonstrating, which was unrealistic in itself (I'll explain my reasoning in a bit), and the total handwaving of everything that led up to it, which ultimately did nothing but break Natasha’s character and make it difficult for most of the audience to accept what was happening. Because... What initially made Natasha go from having a reluctant admiration for him, to downright falling for him? We did not see the process, or the catalysts. They had jumped from Point A to Point Y, and we saw nothing of the points in between. So the whole thing immediately fell apart for me.

A common argument I see in defense of Natasha’s behaviour is, simply put, she’s in love, so it’s natural for her to act a little kooky. However, love doesn’t have the effect of completely negating deeply-ingrained character aspects, especially fundamental traits. And Natasha has many traits that are the complete antithesis of how she was behaving in that movie. It’s the same as seeing Christopher Nolan's Bruce Wayne, a normally close-mouthed and subtle character, gushing, nudging up to, and grinning like a little boy around Rachel Dawes. It doesn’t make sense... So why is it suddenly acceptable for Natasha?

In that sense, I could also presume that Natasha’s behaviour was Joss Whedon’s misogynistic projection of how he, himself, believes a woman in love should behave. There’s a real possibility, given how Natasha was characterized in earlier MCU films, versus how she was acting in this movie, that Whedon threw out her characterization in favour of playing out a fantasy; a stereotype. And unluckily for him, that stereotype (as the word itself implies) does not fit all people or characters. So it was noticeable, and not in a good way.

And honestly... I’m disappointed that this disaster has caused so many people to discount the ship as a whole, even though that film was simply one poor adaptation of it. People also tend to dismiss the pairing because they believe Bruce and Natasha are too different. But they both have trust issues. They both have experiences where they’ve been used for other peoples’ goals. Natasha has seen a very vulnerable and intimate side of Bruce that most people never have (that look he gave her before he transformed on the helicarrier, honestly, was completely unlike the self-composure he obsessively tried to convey in all their prior interactions)... And frankly, I'm sick of hearing about the “age gap” between them, because my aunt and uncle were twelve years apart, and they were happily married for decades. Not to mention, Bruce and Natasha have been through countless hardships, and they probably have a lot more common ground than many people with an “age gap”.

So if things were properly written? That would have been phenomenal, I think. The potential was certainly there in the first movie; it’s just a shame those foundations were ignored and not directly built on.

But that’s enough salt from me!

As for this Bruce in particular... I can see him having a relationship with Natasha in the earlier part of his timeline, before the Sokovia incident occurred. There would've been a lot of opportunities for their relationship to develop, especially because Bruce wasn't just working with the Avengers; he joined S.H.I.E.L.D. and was working on the same helicarrier as Natasha for around a year, too. He would've avoided her a lot, but I can easily see Natasha approaching him eventually, or them running into each other and trying to reconcile. Especially once Bruce remembers everything that happened during the helicarrier incident, and how scared Natasha was. He had offered Natasha a brief apology during the Chitauri invasion, but after those memories were dredged up, it would suddenly become insufficient.

But during or after the Sokovia incident, I doubt they would start a relationship with each other. This is simply because Natasha caused Bruce a lot of turmoil around this time, and afterwards. She betrayed his trust during the Sokovia battle by forcing him to transform, which also worsened an issue that Bruce was currently having with his condition. Her support of the Sokovia Accords didn't help either, because Bruce was vehemently against them from the very beginning, having seen Ross’ wish to exploit the Hulk’s abilities, and he feared this would continue on a much greater scale if the Accords were ratified, with hundreds (if not thousands) of identified superhumans now vulnerable. I hesitate to say Bruce will never trust Natasha again, but while he could probably reach a tentative comfortability around her, a romantic relationship might be asking too much. There’s simply too much negative history between them, a lot of which entails broken trust. And once Bruce’s trust in someone is broken, well, it’s monumentally difficult to restore.

[lordeasriel]

I really care about your opinion, how do you feel about the bbc show and the way it's going?

I feel like before I give my take, I need to say that I understand the show is its own thing, and while I do wish they did a better job adapting certain things, I understand that sometimes there is a need for radical change or cut, especially when your budget is not super high (which HDM does have a lot of money into it, still is not a super big budget production, so they have to worry about these things). And I do enjoy many things about the show, but my overall vibe is mixed, to be honest. I’m stating this now because people often question whether I like the show or not, becaus I do criticise it a lot, and I simply have a critic view of the things I like, which is why I discuss them a lot and it can be overwhelming.

My main issues with the show are these 3 things: (which I’ll put under the cut because this got a bit longer than I wanted to lmao sorry)

Lack of worldbuilding and loose lore: I’ve been talking about this since day one, and this mostly applies to season 1 because I can’t judge season 2 yet because it’s not fully aired yet, but the show suffers from lack of worldbuilding, especially in Lyra’s world, which is the world that sets everything in motion. I still dislike the fact they introduced Will mid-NL, I don’t think he needed all those episodes to establish something that easily could’ve been done in S2 and because they gave TSK a lot of time, other parts of Lyra’s world suffered considerably, mainly the witches and the Magisterium.

The show doesn’t really expand on those two groups, especially, and I think that’s not good, especially the Magisterium (which they have over simplified by making it one big baddie, or so it seems at least, not to mention that implying a single leader for them practically ruins Marcel Delamare’s arc in TBOD and I’m very mad about that lmao). A lot of the Magisterium plot has that infighting aspect, which creates tension on their side as well as against their enemies, but the show doesn’t really explore that or the nuances of the Church, and they also don’t explore how varied the witches are, and I feel like this is a serious mistake. (The portrayal of the witches is by far my least favourite thing in the show, if I’m being honest).

Dull parallel world (and lack of daemons): this ties a bit with the worldbuilding aspect, but this is mainly about design choices. I think the show doesn’t make Lyra’s world as unique as it should be. On its own the world looks pretty and the outfits of most of the cast are great, but when you realise that Will’s world is intertwined with that, you don’t really feel like these two worlds are vastly different.

There is an odd situation in which Marisa’s fashion feels 30s/40s, but most of the men from her social circle (not fair to compare with the gyptians) just wear plain suits and they look much more modern. And while I get that they went for a timeless vibes, with different eras and styles, Lyra’s world feels like a caricature and it doesn’t feel believable. The colour palette is mostly the same for both worlds (even in s2, it’s hard to tell much of the difference because either the scenes are indoors or at night.) This, paired with the lack of daemons (which has been discussed many times in the fandom) kinda bums me out.

Marisa’s oversimplification: I’m mentioning Marisa, specifically, because she is the one that suffers the most due to this writing issues, but other characters like Lord Asriel, MacPhail, the general collective of the Witches, they all suffer from the writing trying to take away the nuances of them and make them flatter than in the book. Marisa is the worst because without her complexity and her flaws, she simply gets dull and boring and flavourless, and it’s kinda what has been happening in the show in my opinion. All she does is weep and she has no strength that doesn’t rely on a random fit of rage that dies out and she gets upset. There’s some great moments, like when she mimics the Monkey, but most of the time she’s just a shadow of who she is supposed to be.

The show tries really hard to make her a Scorned Mother - right from the get go, they try to makes us see how she wants Lyra, how she struggles with her “bad nature” and how that affects their relationship. There is this lingering implication that Lyra was taken from her against her wishes; they make it seem like being a mother to Lyra is her driving force, the only reason why she seeks power and influence. And that is the opposite of Book! Marisa, who is a force of nature, ruthless and ambitious, with not an ounce of maternal instinct.

She does eventually decide to help Lyra, instead of harming her, but even that action comes from a narcisistic place: Lyra is to her a possession, something that belongs to her, and that she wants to preserve. The show just handles her badly, falling into overused, boring tropes that struck far from the book version.

These are usually my main complaints about the show, and they upset me every episode to the point I’m practically ignoring them now lmao The show does a lot of good things too, making Will less of a prick, restoring Lyra’s personality from the first book into S2 Lyra (so far, please keep it that way), Mary is looking great too. They have mostly a great cast, and they did improve the daemons this season (except uh, there are far less daemons to show because of the other worlds - and the Ruta Skadi daemon change pisses me off tbh).

They do have a lot of interest in the show, but the writing (the main issue to me) feels clunky and childish, with the show toning down most of the themes that make His Dark Materials so special, especially to me (which frankly I expected them to do, but it still stings a bit). They make the Magisterium a single bad entity that feels more Authoritarian-Fascist, than a theocracy (even if they sneak in the religious symbols and rituals and garments, it’s just not a good portrayal, it’s very tame and shy); and they try to justify Marisa’s actions (especially in current interviews, there’s lots of talk about how her background will play in the show to “explain why she is the way she is”). The fact the Magisterium is portrayed as pure evil makes it looks less familiar than it should be, and therefore they don’t look scary, they seem like a caricature, a joke.

A lot of the essence of the characters get lost, and the core message of the story too, like when Iorek and the Gyptians tell Lyra she can be one of them, to support her lack of “proper family”, when that is the opposite of the books message. It doesn’t make sense for them to change that, other than maybe Jack Thorne wanted to because it makes the story feels less hopeless, but it’s why he fails to adapt these character - he doesn’t capture the essence, he tries to write these character with gaps in them.

However, the thing that annoys me the most is how they portray Asriel. It’s just... it’s bad. Really bad, which is a shame cause James is talented as fuck, but he had little time to film for season 1, and then they portrayed him very poorly. That scene when he addresses Roger in episode 7 is ridiculous, Asriel would never behave that way; there was relief in him finding Roger was there too, yes, but not to that extent and not in such a cringe way. Asriel is not deranged or irrational, he is a man on a mission, and Roger was a tool (there is no pleasure in Asriel taking his life and no excuses - it needed to be done and he did it); they just needed him to sound creepy in the show for whatever reason.

I hated how they handled the bridge scene for Asriel, Lyra and Marisa, but that’s long and complicated for me to explain here. In S2, there has been some mentions of him so far, including the implication he might have ruined Cittàgazze himself and I frankly don’t understand where did they get that idea. But the cherry on the top was Thorold telling Marisa that Asriel was gonna kill Lyra and that’s just-- that’s so dumb. That’s genuinely dumb writing, because Thorold knows Lyra followed Asriel to the mountain, and while I do believe Asriel would have killed Lyra if Roger wasn’t there, there is no way Thorold should know or consider that Asriel was gonna hurt Lyra, because Roger was there. In fact, Thorold’s interactions with Asriel in episode 8 already disprove this, so either Thorold was lying in S2 for the sake of, I don’t know, chaos or whatever, or the person who wrote this was a five-star, solid gold, fucking moron.

I’m not gonna mention the lost episode because that was no one’s fault, but the fact that they discarded an episode that all information we have on imply that it was important to set up the backstory of the angels and the city, it’s... concerning. It means they wrote something parallel that should’ve been woven into the season.

The truth is, I still watch the show on Sundays, and I still like some stuff they do (especially Mary’s stuff, so far), and despite me slandering the show per your request anon lol (cause unfortunately my honest opinion is mixed, I just don’t try to overfocus on the negative on Tumblr, I mostly talk about it on discord or private), I do think anyone who has read the books should watch the show.

For me, personally, everything I love about HDM is barely on the show - complex characters, the philosophy, the oppression by religion, the interesting world - and the vibe I get is that they’re adapting a coming-of-age love story, which is the last and - being fully honest - the least important message these books give us, but unfortunately they were set to making a family show from the start, and my expectations were high and unmatched, and a family is what we’re getting: toned down, cute, pretty visuals and soulless (heh, pun intended), philosophically speaking. I expect a certain pattern going into S3, but I always like to hold out hope that they will hire better writers (apparently Jack Thorne already wrote 4 scripts, so there you go lmao), and try to give HDM the adaptation it deserves. The truth is, if you’re a picky, canon reliant person like I am, the show might be a struggle, but if you just like the story for the teen romance, or if you don’t care about overthinking a show/book, then most people can have a good time with it.

[jahaanofmenaphos]

Art by the awesome @tommieglenn!

Of Gods and Men Summary:

When the gods returned to Gielinor, their minds were only on one thing: the Stone of Jas, a powerful elder artefact in the hands of Sliske, a devious Mahjarrat who stole it for his own ends and entertainment. He claims to want to incite another god wars, but are his ulterior motives more sinister than that? And can the World Guardian, Jahaan, escape from under Sliske’s shadow?

Read the full work here:

ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN

FANFICTION.NET

TUMBLR CHAPTER INDEX

QUEST 09: OUR SPIRITS, KINDRED

QUEST SUMMARY:

When Ariane is kidnapped and the signs point to Sliske, Jahaan is forced to confront the Mahjarrat once again. But this time, things take a turn for the twisted, and Jahaan uncovers the truth behind Sliske’s obsession with him. Can Jahaan survive Sliske’s games? After all, broken bones heal faster than a broken mind...

CHAPTER 1: GRIP OF THE GODS

High above the clouds, Armadyl and his avianse were housed in a temporary cloud fortress that they had erected upon their return to Gielinor. The Empyrean Citadel was unsuitable for housing their numbers, after all. That, and it had been tainted by Sliske’s presence. So, they had to build themselves temporary lodgings, for you can’t exactly spread the avianse across the bed and breakfasts of Misthalin. It helped that the avianse were known for being skilled carpenters. One wouldn’t think that upon looking at them, but never judge a book by its cover.

Looking out towards the horizon of a new dawn, Armadyl stood in quiet contemplation. He’d been trying to work through the turmoils of the last few years in solitude, taking to meditating at the break of day. While doing this, he’d organise his current stresses and plan ways to deal with them by prioritising the most pressing issues and working backwards. He didn’t want to worry his generals by showing just how much it was eating at him to be back on Gielinor. When they’d first arrived on Gielinor in the Second Age, they were escaping their homeworld of Abbinah, looking for peace and community in a pure world that was rich in resources, a world that would allow them to prosper without the threat of constant storms and hurricanes raging above, a world that didn’t require ritual sacrifice of the elderly to relieve the burden on the young.

Gielinor was that perfect world.

Now, it was being ravaged by war, just as it was many centuries ago. Those who forget the past were doomed to repeat it, and Armadyl was not going to let what happened to his avianse on that fateful day ever happen again.

Now, new issues had arisen, namely his ‘prize’ of inheriting the vast majority of Bandosians after he’d slain their god. Honestly, he didn’t expect that to happen. Not that he didn’t welcome the challenge of teaching a new group that there was a way of life beyond war, a way of life instead driven by peace and justice. But undoing eons of Bandosian indoctrination had left him with his hands full. Understaffed and unprepared, Armadylean forces had been stretched thin.

And then, Armadyl had heard about the fate of the Dorgesh-Kaan.

The guilt of being unable to prevent this genocide, one execuated in his name, was clawing at his heart.

Kree'arra entered onto the balcony, tentatively calling out, “My lord?”

Shuddering, Armadyl tried to briefly take the Dorgesh-Kaan out of his mind. Turning to the general, he attempted a warm smile. “Come, Kree'arra. What news do you bring?”

“Nothing positive, my lord,” Kree'arra regretfully admitted. “The situation in Ardougne is growing worse by the day, and our scouts are no closer to finding Sliske and your Staff.”

Armadyl wasn’t disappointed. Not really, anyway. In both matters, he’d expected as much. The reports had plateaued, and he didn’t expect much of an improvement anytime soon.

“Kree'arra,” Armadyl’s tone was resigned, yet resolved. “If the situation here on Gielinor continues to deteriorate, I am not putting my people in harm's way by remaining. We shall depart this world and find somewhere else to nest, with or without my Staff. Power is nothing if my people are lost, like I thought they were all those years ago.”

“But where would we go, my lord?” Kree'arra asked, softly. “We cannot return to Abbinah.”

“Of course not, but I have an idea… it may be a long shot, yes, but we might be able to save those left behind on Abbinah, and create a new home for all of the avianse. Say, Kree'arra… what do you know of Tarddiad.”

Furrowing his brow, Kree'arra replied, “The homeland of the elves? Little, my lord. It is known as a land covered in trees.”

“And mountaintops, waterfalls, lush vegetation…” Armadyl added, growing in excitement. “I have a plan. Seren cares a lot for her elves - she’s a compassionate being, kinder than all the other gods I have encountered. Our people are skilled craftsmen and healers, so we could help her people in numerous ways. If I can persuade Seren to share the skies of Tarddiad with us, we needn’t ever want for resources or stability ever again. We would be safe, Kree'arra!”

His frown deepening, Kree'arra averted his gaze from the diety’s. Armadyl had always been a dreamer, but Kree'arra found himself to be a pessimist by nature, always hating to ground the idealistic musings of his god. “That would be wonderful, my lord… but do you really think Seren would give up part of sovereignty over Tarddiad to us?”

“It would take some convincing, yes,” Armadyl accepted. “But I shall discuss the idea with her upon our next encounter. Hopefully she will see the merits in my proposal.”

Turning back towards the horizon, Armadyl’s tone was wistful, yet determined, as he said, “I will find a home for us, Kree'arra. I will save the avianse…”

***

It was a dreary Essianday in Lumbridge, but as Essianday was the Saradominist holy day of the week, church was in service. Father Urhney, an irritable priest, was leading the congregation. Never in a good mood, the wild-haired priest detested being back in the town of Lumbridge, having moved into the swamps to the south not so long ago in an attempt to spend two years in silent meditation and prayer. However, every time someone bothered him with conversation, he forced himself to start over. Hence, he was a rather grumpy fellow.

Since the end of the Battle of Lumbridge, the town’s residents - usually devout Saradominists - had been attending services less and less, meaning that the coffers at the front were a lot lighter than usual. Considering this was how the priests gained an income in the town, it was a worry for them all, even those who had isolated themselves in a swampy shack.

The reason for the drop in attendance was due to a rise in Godless and Armadylean supporters who had turned from Saradomin after the Battle of Lumbridge was concluded. Turns out, not many people care to have their town demolished and the deity they pray to walk away without so much as an apology.

The priest that usually ran the quaint little service was Father Aereck, a frail and subdued man, who was not well equipped to deal with the challenge of regaining Saradominist support in Lumbridge.

Because of this, Father Urhney forced himself from his little shack and ventured back into the town to take over regular services. Today was his first one, and word had gotten around about his return, so the church was a lot fuller than normal. It turned out that a lot of people had questions they wanted answered, and Father Aereck was not doing the job for them, so they made the most of utilising Father Urhney’s time.

But upon hearing the white noise of chattering, questions, demands and a few stray insults, Father Urhney regretted his life choices. Irritably shaking his head, he raised his hands in an attempt to calm the congregation.

This achieved nothing.

Gritting his teeth, he squinted his eyes tightly and exclaimed, “Please, one at a time! Saradomin only has two ears, and so do I.”

Fortunately, that was enough to subdue them, but it wouldn’t last long. So, capitalising on the silence, he motioned to a man in the front row, one of the rowdier members who was chomping at the bit to speak. 

“Why should we follow Saradomin anymore?” the man asked, a loaded question if there ever was one. “He left our town in ruins. I heard about this Armadyl guy - he seems to be a stand up fella, preachin’ justice and peace and all that.”

“He went to war with Bandos in open conflict,” Father Urhney countered, rolling his eyes. “Not very peaceful if you ask me. But yes, before you say it, Bandos was a threat that needed to be neutralised. He’s dead now. Zamorak is still out there, causing chaos. He’s invaded Ardougne! Where’s Armadyl now? He’s left those people there to fend for themselves, whereas Saradomin has sent his forces to battle the dark Zamorak head on. Peace can only be achieved once Saradomin takes his rightful place as the only god in Gielinor. There is a pattern to the ascendance and collapse of civilisation - a cycle of tragedy. Saradomin has the knowledge to break this cycle, and most importantly, the will to lead everyone forwards. Gielinor, and other worlds, would be brought into a new age. A utopia. Other gods can claim this, but only Saradomin has the experience necessary to make it happen. Alas, utopia must sometimes be built on bones, so let the lesser gods be the foundation. Then, Saradomin can lead everyone to a glorious future!”

“Lead? You mean, he wants to control everyone?” a disgruntled man in the second row called out, earning a few concurring nods and mumbles from the rest of the attendees.

Father Urhney tried his best to keep his tone measured as he replied, “You say that as though it were a bad thing. People need governments, leaders and structures. Just as freedom doesn't mean anarchy, control doesn't have to mean slavery. Saradomin offers guidance and leadership, law and order. Under his 'control', people could thrive. Everyone would have the reassurance that they know where they belong and how they should behave. Deep down, everyone wants to know where they sit in the world. What you call control, I would argue is true freedom. Freedom to know how life should be lived and how to fulfil one’s potential.”

“I heard from my niece in Ardougne that there’s a Mahjarrat-y fellow running around with one of them there elder weapons! He’s gonna use it to destroy everyone!”

This statement came out of nowhere, interrupting the contemplative quiet that had arose following Father Urhney’s response. For all his personal foibles, Father Urhney was incredibly devout and the conviction from which he spoke could turn even the most stubborn of heads.

But now, that peace had been ruined, and naturally, the congregation went into panicked uproar. Some of the Lumbridge folk were rural and quite traditional in their beliefs, but they knew enough to decide that the Mahjarrat were bad, and one having an Elder Weapon was worse. Of course, this was a gross oversimplification, one that a lot of Mahjarrat would take umbrage to, but the public perception was hard to change, and Sliske running around with the Stone of Jas was doing little to help matters.

The lack of Saradominist Mahjarrat didn’t help either.

Having heard Brother Samwell’s tale of Sliske, Icthlarin and the Empyrean Citadel, Father Urhney was a lot more knowledgeable on what was really going on in the world in comparison to his congregation. Deciding that giving at least a little bit of context could assist in both settling the nerves of the churchgoers and prove that he and his fellow priests were in-the-know, Father Urhney once again silenced the crowd and said, “Calm down, everyone. If you let me talk, I can quell some of these exaggerated rumours. Now, firstly, yes, there’s a Mahjarrat who has the Stone of Jas, and-QUIET! For Saradomin’s sake, can you let me finish?! Yes, the rumours are true, but Saradomin is fighting to get the Stone back into his safekeeping, and he WILL succeed. He will take the fight to all the other gods, and this Mahjarrat, and the Stone will be his once again. That’s why he needs your support!”

“Why Saradomin?” one of the men at the back piped up, pushing off from the wall he was leaning against. “Why not another god, or heck, how about NO god?”

“The Stone will fall into someone’s hands, it cannot simply go no-where and belong to no-one,” Father Urhney grumbled, shaking his head with an irritated sigh. “Saradomin has wielded the Stone before, wisely and with care, and he shall do so again. Can you say such of the others? The dark Zamorak would use it to destroy the world; Zaros would enslave it to his will, and grow more dangerous than ever; Armadyl has no idea what to do with such power, and would destroy himself with his naivety; and Seren would use its power only in support of her precious elves. Saradomin, on the other hand, will use its power with wisdom and compassion, for the betterment of ALL life on Gielinor. Now, are there any more questions?”

Once he saw almost every hand in the room shoot up, it took everything in Father Urhney’s power to not storm out and end the service early.

***

The dragonkin were a race of powerful and intelligent dragon-like creatures that originated from the previous cycle of the universe, a handful of them having survived the revision of the universe by hiding in the Abyss. The surviving dragonkin sought out Jas for mercy or retribution, only to end up being bound to her Catalyst - the Stone of Jas - and were tasked with protecting it at all costs. When the Stone was used by a being other than Jas, they were cursed to feel great pain and suffering that could only be eased by violence and rampage. Thus, tales of the dragonkin speak of a malevolent and dangerous species.

There were two factions of the dragonkin on Gielinor. The first, the Dactyl dragonkin, who repress the urge to cause destruction and kill 'False Users'. Instead, they undertake research and perform experiments in an attempt to sever their connection to the Stone of Jas. The other faction were the Necrosyrtes, a war-like faction comprised of those who have given into their urge to cause destruction. Kerapac belonged to the former, and had dedicated his life to ridding the dragonkin of Jas’ curse.

On this night, Kerapac was found huddled over one of the journals he was writing, locked inside his cramped and dimly lit study. He and his fellow draginkin had been forced from their home at the heart of Daemonheim when Bilrach tunnelled deep into its depths. Realistically, they could have fought off any intruder, but were against revealing themselves to the world at such a time. In fact, if Kerapac had his way, they would still be an unknown presence in Gielinor. Unfortunately, Sithaph and Strisath had taken matters into their own hands, succeeding at retrieving the Staff of Armadyl (momentarily) but falling short of safeguarding the Stone. After all, they didn’t have the power to teleport the Stone to safety by themselves. They were brutes, weaklings - kath, as they were known in the dragonkin language. And thanks to them, the world knew about the existence of the dragonkin.

Kerapac had self-proclaimed himself as the ‘Observer’, watching over the affairs of Gielinor with patience and detachment. Until now, that is. With Sliske’s slaying of Guthix and bringing back the gods to Gielinor, the world was in upheaval, and Kerapac could sense the disturbance beneath him. The Elder Gods would awaken soon, they would hatch their spawn, and so the universe would restart once again, just like it did eons ago. Kerapac sensed it then, and managed to hide some of his people away… but he knew he would not be so lucky this time.

But while they were still bound to the Stone, there was very little the dragonkin could do.

Kerapac knew that the time for observation was over, and he formulated a plan. Many plans, in fact - Kerapac was not a being to leave much to chance. If successful, this latest idea would leave the Elder Mirror in his possession. The Elder Mirror was used by the Elder Gods for large-scale creation, being able to create copies of things. Currently, the dragonkin had tracked down its location to a being known simply as ‘V’, the god of the Fremennik people.

As of now, V had kept to himself, choosing to isolate himself and his people from the current affairs of the other deities, along with the chase for the Stone of Jas.

Kerapac had no qualms about killing him. He’d slaughter civilisations if it meant his fellow dragonkin could finally be free.

Other such plans had yet to return positive results; no dragonkin had managed to locate Sliske, as of yet, and the search for the other Elder Artifacts wasn’t going so well. Twelve were known, but only a handful were even obtainable. The Siphon and the Catalyst - colloquially known as the Staff of Armadyl and the Stone of Jas, respectively - were in Sliske’s possession. The Locator, also known as the Crown Archival, was able to find other Elder Artifacts, though only ones of considerably less power. It would prove incredibly useful to any deity, and indeed to the dragonkin, but it was currently held by Saradomin, who Kerapac knew had too much power and support to take on directly. Others, such as The Kiln, were useless to the dragonkin, only used for creating TokHaar workers to shape the world. And then there were the artefacts that were lost to time and space, those that may not even be on Gielinor, such as The Codex and The Template. Kerapac only knew of their existence due to his past proximity to the Stone of Jas, something that granted him knowledge most mortals could only dream of.

So many artefacts, so many gods, so little time.

But for now, Kerapac kept writing in his journal, documenting his work to save his people from the curse brought upon them by a being as old as the universe. If it meant killing a god, or numerous gods, he would do so. If it meant challenging Sliske directly, he would do so. If it meant laying down his own life so that his descendents could live without suffering, he would do so.

***

The small study Sliske had carved out for himself was dimly lit in the glow of only two candles. It made the knife-work he was undertaking much more of a challenge, having to refrain from slicing off his own fingers with the sharp blade, but this helped him focus more, to concentrate on the task at hand instead of letting his mind drift to unwanted realms. Unfortunately, that suffocating feeling always managed to creep inside, rattling with voices that were always his own, always familiar, yet simultaneously alien.

The voices had been there since he was young, and he’d managed to keep them a secret from the rest of his tribe. Except from his brother, that is, who was the only one he could confide in at such a young age. These voices didn’t worry him, and from what he’d gathered from his time amongst humans, many of them were subject to the same conditions.

Perhaps Mahjarrat are susceptible too? Perhaps I’m not the only one?

He didn’t know, and venturing such a notion would have led him down a rabbit hole, perhaps even to the Marker.

So, they were kept a secret.

Well, for the most part; Relomia - Sliske’s emissary, someone who often lurked in Sliske’s lair whenever the Mahjarrat would permit company - had often heard her master mutter to himself when in the depths of deep thought, conversing with himself like he wasn’t the only one in the room. It troubled her, to hear some of the things her master would say, but she didn’t dare confront him, for he might not take too kindly to the notion she had been eavesdropping all this time.

Whittling wooden masks was Sliske’s favourite way to de-stress; whenever he felt overwhelmed by anything and needed to clear his mind, or simply narrow it enough to fix a troubling part of a plan, he would take a knife and carve theatrical masks. Some of them he would enchant, for the humour in it, but the vast majority he would burn.

There was never much subtlety or nuance in Sliske’s masks. For a being that prided himself on being unreadable, his wooden creations undercut that entirely. Sliske had already carved eight masks this evening alone and was working on his ninth. This mask, however, was blank. Not that he had yet to carve an emotion into it, but the mask itself portrayed emotionless.

“You’ve been waiting for this your entire lifetime,” Sliske growled lowly to himself. “If you don’t act now, it may be too late. Gods know you have a target on your back…”

“You shouldn’t have told him. You should have known he would betray you.”

“Why did you tell him? Why did you think honesty would get you anywhere? It never has and it never will.”

“He went behind your back. He was never going to fulfil the agreement.”

“Why did you think he would be any different?”

“You thought you could reason with him? Bargain for something so precious? You fool.”

“What is wrong with you?” he hissed with disgust, causing his knife hand to slip and accidentally slice his into his thumb. The wound wasn’t deep, but claret still trickled across the mask’s face, dripping through the eyehole and into a small puddle beneath him. “He wouldn’t be persuaded so easily. Be reasonable. Plan A was a longshot - you knew that. So, you’ll just have to do things the hard way...”

After a few more minutes of bloodstained whittling, Sliske held the mask up to admire his handiwork, though instead regarded it with nothing more than a heavy glare of disinterest. He tossed it into the corner. 

Rising to his feet, he walked over to the pile of masks he’d accumulated over the last few months. It took up a fair bit of space; Sliske was holding off on burning them until he could justify a bonfire. “Everything is ready. Soon, he’ll be ready too. A few hours and it’ll all be over. You’ll be safe, forever. It’s what you’ve always wanted. Immortality is within reach, so don’t let those ridiculous notions of yours get in the way. After all, you’ll forget him in time.”

He reached among the pile and found a mask with a wicked sneer carved into it. Holding it up to his face, he mimicked the expression inside the mask. “Yes, it won’t be long now…”

DISCLAIMER:

As Of Gods and Men is a reimagining, retelling and reworking of the Sixth Age, a LOT of dialogue/characters/plotlines/etc. are pulled right from the game itself, and this belongs to Jagex.

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[shipmistress9]

FTLOAP: Chapter 24: Do You Know The Line That I’d Walk For You

Title: For The Love Of A Princess

Fandom: HTTYD

Theme: Hiccstrid - Medieval-style AU - Romance - Angst/Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Reduced to little more than a stable boy, Hiccup, despite his noble birth, has few prospects for more in life. But when he meets a girl who came to look at the horses, being a stable boy might not be enough anymore. Together, they have tough choices to make and great risks to navigate if they want to survive and be together.

Rating: Explicit

FF-net  -  AO3

Prologue; Chapter 1; Chapter 2; Chapter 3; Chapter 4; Chapter 5; Chapter 6; Chapter 7; Chapter 8; Chapter 9; Chapter 10; Chapter 11; Chapter 12; Chapter 13; Chapter 14; Interlude 1; Chapter 15; Chapter 16; Chapter 17; Chapter 18; Chapter 19; Chapter 20; Chapter 21; Chapter 22; Chapter 23

Alpha/Co-author: @athingofvikings

. – * – _ . o O o . _ – * – .

AN: So someone over on @athingofvikings ' Discord server asked why there wasn't a discussion channel for FTLOAP, since he's my alpha reader. So he invited me to the server and made a channel for discussing my fic. The direct invite link can be found here or in @athingofvikings ' Tumblr sidebar on his Tumblr. Whoever is interested in discussing this fic, with me or others, is invited to join us there. :) I'll happily answer questions if there's something unclear or give additional background information (on Oswald for example), but won't give away major spoilers.

Further, I want to remind you that this is the second-to-last chapter before my NaNoWriMo-hiatus. There might be a small update somewhere in between, but else we start again in December.

. o O o .

“Odin, please, if you can hear my prayer, do something. Anything!”

Daniel’s lamentations made Astrid smirk, and she quickly lifted a napkin to dap her mouth in order to hide it. Eret and Dagur fared little better, both coughing to cover up their laughter, and Eret even slapped Dagur on the back as if he’d choked on something solid.

Around them, the feast for Dagur’s accolade was in full swing. In opposition to the smorgasbord in Eret’s honour, today a more formal meal was being served. There were beautifully arranged plates of meat, cheese, imported fruits, and pastries everywhere, with the guests sitting around tables of varying sizes all over the room, while servants bustled about, exchanging empty plates for fresh ones and filling orders for drinks. It was loud and frenetic, but to Astrid, it was a relief. No walking around, no bumping into other people, no need to avoid unwanted contact or company. Oh, sure, there would be mingling later, people leaving their tables to sit with others and have a chat. But Astrid planned to be long gone by then.

For now, she and her brothers sat around one end of the King’s High Table, separated from their fathers by a couple of empty chairs and from other tables by enough distance to keep other diners from easily overhearing them. It was a bearable setting for Astrid. Just like the night before, her father had offered her to leave once the formal part of the accolade was over, but today, she had refused. Her plan to sneak away to meet with Hiccup again still lingered in her mind, but this was Dagur’s big day, and she wanted to celebrate with him.

Even if, right now, celebrating meant Daniel was whining about how unfair the Gods and his Fate were.

“I mean,” Dagur said, still somewhat coughing and laughing, “you are the Crown Prince, right? You’re kinda important. Not to mention that you’re the one planning and deciding over these missions. Couldn’t you… I don’t know… just change those plans?”

“I only wish,” Daniel pouted. “But everything’s already been planned for months. I can order men to move, but logistics... that’s another thing entirely. Troops have already begun securing the general area and basic materials are en route to Loki’s Teeth. I wish I could rearrange things and start with Redpeak instead, but I fear I won’t get away with such a sudden change of plan. My decisions still should be sensible. You know, so people accept my leadership, and all? And overriding all the preparations we’ve made so far just on a whim wouldn’t be sensible at all.”

Astrid listened with a mixture of amusement and confusion, but when Daniel stopped his venting and returned his attention to his roast venison, she nudged Eret’s arm and asked, “What brought this up again? I thought he was done with this topic a month ago.”

Still grinning, Eret leant closer as if to whisper confidentially while still being so loud that there was no question whether Daniel would be able to hear him. “Oh, that’s Hiccup’s fault. During today’s training, he and Daniel ended up standing to the side and talking while Dag and I demonstrated stances to the lads. And apparently, Hiccup found yet another way to improve Redpeak in one of the books Daniel brought him from the library. Don’t ask me for any details, because I seriously didn’t understand a word when they were gushing about it over lunch. But now Daniel is desperate to get started with the improvements there instead of the repairs at the outposts around Loki’s Teeth.”

“And those improvements would be so useful come summer,” Daniel emphasised, pointing his fork at Eret as if that alone could prove his point. “A handful of men could easily hold that mountain path, and I’d have more spare men to send elsewhere. But the facts remain, I can’t change the plans anymore, not without a damn good reason. Besides, Uncle Spite has requested those repairs so often already, it’s about time we get them done. No, so long as no miracle occurs, Redpeak will have to wait until next year.” He sighed theatrically, which made everyone laugh again.

“Too bad being royal isn’t really about doing what you want all day, eh?” Dagur cackled, nudging Daniel in an attempt to cheer him up. It worked, to a degree at least, as Daniel snorted in agreement before stirring their conversation to a less frustrating topic.

Astrid fought to hide a grimace at Dagur’s words, but couldn’t keep her mind from wandering as the men began talking about this year’s recruits.

Doing what you want…

No, being royal really wasn’t about doing what she wanted, not at all. That was a lesson she’d learned very soon after she’d been supposed to start behaving like a royal. And these days, it was even worse. She didn’t even know anymore what she wanted.

Talking to Heather earlier had answered a few of her questions, though not all, and in addition, it had raised a couple new ones too. Some could only be answered once she and Hiccup were alone again, while others… Well, others, she had to answer for herself. Like the question what it was she wanted!

She wanted Hiccup and that foreseen future with him, wanted them bad. She would do nearly anything for that. But she still didn’t know what it was that was expected of her, what she would have to do.

Heather’s words kept whirling around in her head. ‘Don’t make a mistake you might regret.’ Astrid knew what she’d meant, and she wouldn’t… No, she definitely wouldn’t! Just like every young girl, she’d been taught what the changes of her body meant, how to cope with moon blood, and what it took to fall pregnant. That was a mistake she couldn’t risk. It would be a scandal, shaming not only her and Hiccup, but her father and Daniel as well. It would weaken the Crown, and that was something she couldn’t risk. She might hate being the Royal Figurehead, but that didn’t mean that she would willingly risk for the Kingdom and its people to drown in chaos.

So, what was it she was supposed to do? Hiccup had said that he had a plan, had promised that everything would work out. And she trusted him. She just needed to wait; he’d said he’d need time, after all.

The thought made her grimace though. Just waiting, hoping for his plan to work, and behaving as she should – not ruining anything until then… That sounded like a prudent plan, even though the thought alone made her shudder. She didn’t want to behave, to just sit and wait and do nothing.

But maybe this was what she had to do. Following the rules… Maybe it would be better to stay away from him until everything was settled. The correct way would be to wait. She knew she couldn’t risk falling pregnant, couldn’t… couldn’t actually have sex with Hiccup. But it was more than just that; even their secret meetings, their kisses and caresses, all that was against all rules already. It was wrong.

But how could something be wrong when it felt so… so right?

The men around her burst out into laughter and Astrid hastily chimed in with a low chuckle. She had no idea what they were talking about, but she at least wanted to try to keep up appearances.

Appearances… Doing what was appropriate… The thought left a strangely bitter aftertaste in her mind. Right from the beginning, that sentiment hadn’t applied to her and Hiccup. It wasn’t propriety that had let to their first meeting, not at all. Sneaking away against her father’s explicit wish, wandering around without the supervision of her brother or warder, spending hours chatting with a stranger, and secretly meeting and kissing him in a dark room – no, none of that had been appropriate. The rules of proper decorum didn’t apply to them, never had, so what was the point in trying to follow them now?

Swallowing, Astrid gazed at her hands, tightly wrapped around her glass of wine. No, the rules of society couldn't tell her what to do. Supposedly, those were Frigga's own rules, but it clearly wasn’t what the Goddess wanted from her, or else she wouldn’t have led her into Hiccup’s arms that way in the first place. So what should she do?

Once again, Astrid felt for the key beneath her dress, for the warm glow lingering in her heart – and fought back a sudden gasp of quiet laughter. Maybe that was it, maybe the answer was much easier than she’d thought. By binding her and Hiccup with a soulbond, the Gods had made all this a matter of the heart. So maybe this was her answer after all. She would just follow her heart and do what felt right. Sure, there were still lines she wouldn’t cross, but aside from that she would stop pondering whether what she did was right or wrong.

Smiling, she sighed, feeling as if an invisible weight had been lifted off her shoulders. This was still not an answer to all of her questions, but it was a start. At least one question was easy to answer now. She would definitely try to sneak away again tonight.

A light nudge against her upper arm made her blink and look up. Once again, she’d drifted off into her own world, but quickly composed herself again when she noticed Eret’s concerned eyes on her.

“Is everything all right?” he asked, his tattooed chin pointing at her hand that still rested over her heart. “You’re doing that a lot lately; you’re not getting ill, are you?”

Hastily, Astrid dropped her hand and reached for her fork instead. Spearing a piece of venison, she tried to appear unperturbed. “Sure, I’m fine. Of course I am,” she replied cheerfully, chewed, then threw him an easy smile. “Why wouldn’t I?”

He gave her a long, indecipherable look. Once she thought he wanted to say something, but then he shook his head, more to himself than to her. “Never mind,” he said, and turned his attention back to Daniel and Dagur.

Odin, she ought to pay more attention to who might be watching her. Gulping, Astrid followed his example, and turned her focus back on her brothers and their conversation. From the few comments she picked up, they were discussing tactics for sea battles right now, and she tried to concentrate in order to make an appropriate remark somewhere. It was not a subject she was particularly interested in though, and her mind was in danger of drifting off toward a certain pair of green eyes again, when she was saved by the arrival of an unusual visitor.

“Good evening, Prince Daniel, Princess Astrid,” a voice like liquid silk sounded from the side. “Sir Eret, Sir Dagur.”

They all turned toward the newcomer, and then quickly rose to greet her.

“Fyrir Mala!” Daniel spoke first, bowing deeply. Eret and Dagur followed his example as Astrid curtsied appropriately, all murmuring greetings as well. “Good evening to you too, fair lady.”

The woman nodded, her short blond hair swaying only slightly. Daniel offered her the chair next to him, the heavy fabric of her black-and-golden dress rustling as she sat down. Astrid and the others took their seats again too, clearly puzzled by the Fyrir’s appearance. As highest member of the Order of Freya, she had little to no dealings with any of them. Not like Fyrir Throk, who worked in close relation to Daniel all the time when it came to the skirmishes in the West, or the Fyrir’s Gothi and Alvin, who regularly had dealings with the castle.

They all sat quietly, slightly stunned, as Daniel waved over a servant with a tray of wine glasses, handing one to the Fyrir.

“Thank you, your Highness,” she said formally, and took a sip of the wine. Astrid wondered what had made her approach them, and, judging by their expressions, Daniel and the others were wondering the same. But before either of them could ask, the Fyrir placed her glass back on the table and looked up at them.

“My congratulations to you for your accolade, Sir Dagur,” she said in her melodic voice. “And of course, to you too, Sir Eret. I beg your apology for only delivering it now.”

Both Dagur and Eret murmured a confused “Thank you,” sharing a puzzled glance, as the Fyrir reached for her glass again. Astrid understood them all too well; while the Fyrir’s words were adequate for the occasion, it was clearly not the reason for why she was here.

Daniel tried his best to awkwardly engage her into their conversation, commenting on the feast and the weather, but that only highlighted how there seemed to be no purpose in her approaching them. “As much as I appreciate the honour of your presence, fair lady,” he finally said more directly, glancing over to the other end of the table where their father and the two Grand Dukes were chatting amiably. “May I ask… to what we owe this honour?”

Fyrir Mala smiled in her usual, mysterious way that always made Astrid think of a cat; as if she knew a secret, but wouldn’t share it with anyone. Though truth be told, that probably wasn’t so far off. “I came to deliver a message. One of my Ástir asked me if I could do so, and I did not see a problem in fulfilling her request.” She turned her head toward Eret. “Cami sends her regards, Sir Eret. She asked me to thank you for the safe journey, and to inform you that she is settled now. She also wanted to extend an invitation to meet her on the day after tomorrow to you and… your friends?” Her voice perked up just a tiny bit at the end, turning her statement into a question.

Curious about what that could mean, Astrid turned to glance at Eret, and judging by the puzzled look on Daniel’s face, he was wondering too. But Eret had a huge grin on his face. “Thank you for delivering that message, Fyrir Mala,” he said, insinuating a bow. “I am glad to hear she settled in well. And as for the invitation–” he glanced at Dagur, who also wore a grin on his face, and at Daniel who shrugged and nodded slightly– “we accept it gladly.”

The Fyrir nodded, then turned to Daniel. “Will you be joining your friends, Milord? Or shall I inform Kaden that you are coming for a visit? She has no appointment for that day so far.”

“Ahm…” Daniel made, glancing at Eret and Dagur with a raised eyebrow. “I think I’d prefer Kaden’s company.”

Again, Fyrir Mala nodded as if she hadn’t expected anything else, then rose from her chair. “I will see you soon then, Milords. Milady.” She nodded to everyone in farewell, and then was gone just as quickly as she’d appeared.

“She’s an odd one,” Dagur murmured as soon as she was out of earshot. “Even for a woman. No offence,” he added, winking at Astrid, but then put on an overly dramatic expression. “But did I get that right, Daniel. You prefer some woman’s company over ours? I’m hurt!”  

“Maybe there’s more, but he’s just not telling us,” Eret suggested, one eyebrow raised and with an insinuating grin.

Daniel groaned. “You’re horrible. No, there’s not more to tell. I just enjoy her company, okay?”

“Sure thing, we totally believe you,” Dagur teased.

“So, who is this Cami?” Daniel asked, turning to Eret and unsubtly changing the topic. “I don’t think I remember you ever talking about her? Is there something we ought to know?”

Astrid bit her lip, knowing that Daniel couldn’t be further off, but also glanced at Eret expectantly. She, too, was interested in his answer.

“Oh, no, not what you think,” Eret laughed. “She’s a good friend, but nothing more.”

Dagur snorted. “What, the daughter of one of the Stallari of Freya’s Order is ‘nothing’?”

Astrid’s eyebrows rose at that; the Stallari were the senior priests, directly under the Fyrir.  And while internal Temple politics were complicated, as she knew somewhat from Heather occasionally telling small tales, that sort of family tie was nothing to sneer at. She glanced at the two Dukes’ sons and wondered for a moment if they were playing politics, or if history was going to repeat itself, or something else.

Daniel seemed to think that it was the first option. “Oh, look at you pair of social climbers!” he teased. “Which Stallari?”

“Eastervale’s. And it’s really not what you think! She spent the last couple of years learning to become a full Ástir. This year, she finished her education, and when the decision was made that she would move here to the capitol, I offered to organise for her to travel with our servants. I thought that would surely be much safer and more comfortable than making such a journey on her own. She’s also the one who smuggled Markor’s normal saddle for me.”

“I see. But are you telling me that you’ll only be chatting and drinking tea with her then?” Daniel asked, smirking. “I was wondering about the ‘bring your friends’ part. But in that case, I should tell Fyrir Mala to call off my appointment with Kaden so that I can join you after all.”

Dagur snorted in amusement, but if he wanted to say something, Eret beat him to it. “No, we definitely won’t be just chatting,” he chuckled. “But Cami is… well, she doesn’t mind me bringing friends. Dagur came along a couple of times when he came to visit Eastervale, and during the last few months, Hiccup met her occasionally too.” He shrugged. “She’s great.”

“Sounds like she’s going to be busy enough with you three then,” Daniel commented dryly. “So I’ll stick to my choice; I prefer a more intimate atmosphere with someone I know.”

Eret nodded, but when he answered, his words didn’t register in Astrid’s mind anymore. The mention of Hiccup had brought her thoughts about him back to the surface, and whatever bantering went back and forth between her brothers quickly faded into the background.

Of course, Hiccup had been with Ástirs, that was no surprise. It was custom, after all, that young men were brought to the Temple of Freya as soon as they ‘spilt their desire in their sleep’, although she had no clue what that meant. It wasn’t only to sate their desires though, but also to teach them the particulars about sex, so that they could ‘pass that knowledge on to their wives and their married life would be full of joy’. Or that was all she had ever learned. That she was not to ask any inappropriate questions and was to wait until she could ask them to her future husband.

She felt another smirk tug at her lips and quickly suppressed it. Oh, she could ask those questions to her future husband, alright. But the first and most important question was… what did she want to ask him? What did she want to know? What did she dare to ask?

Again, her hand wandered to her chest, not caring whether Eret or anyone else would notice. She just needed the support even that simple touch offered to cope with her thoughts. Astrid still wasn’t sure what she really wanted. Not actually having sex, that was for sure. But she wanted more than just the kisses they’d shared so far. And at the same time, she wasn’t even sure how much more she even could take, whatever it might be.

The thought of getting touched like that again still made her shudder. Despite her own assumption and Heather’s reassurance that… that it wouldn’t always be like what Harold had done, she was still nervous. What if she was broken, damaged beyond repair, could never stand a touch like that again? Would that change anything? And did Hiccup even want to touch her like that with how he was always pushing her back?

The questions kept whirling around in her mind, and it made her dizzy. But it also strengthened her resolve to sneak away and meet Hiccup tonight. She needed answers, and only he could provide them.

“I think I’d like to leave now,” she announced quietly as she noticed how the first guests started to leave their tables and meandered around. This was when she’d planned to leave anyway, and in the company of others, where she had to behave, she wouldn’t be any good for celebrating anyway.

“Of course,” Daniel nodded. He waved a servant over to send for Tuff, and then gave her a reassuring smile, the same expression she saw on Eret’s and Dagur’s faces too. They kept her company until Tuff arrived, warding off whoever wanted to approach them, and it made guilt rise inside her. They cared so much about her, tried everything to make her feel comfortable no matter how distressing the situation might be for her. It made lying to them so much harder. Sure, letting them assume that crowds of people bothered her wasn’t even a lie, but it also wasn’t the real reason why she wanted to leave. One day… One day in a far-away future, they would hopefully all laugh about it together…

When Tuff came to escort her back, her relieved sigh wasn’t a lie at all though. She just wanted to get away, from the people, the laughter, the tension and the lump that was forming in her throat, and toward the safety of a certain pair of warm arms.

Once back in her chambers, she proclaimed herself to be tired, and it didn’t take long until Ruff had her dressed for the night and she was lying alone in her dark bedroom. And she was nervous.

It wasn’t the same as the previous two times she’d snuck away though. Wringing the fabric of her blanket in her hands, she tried to lay out a plan for what she wanted to ask Hiccup. Approaching him with such a plea – breaching yet another rule by getting more physical than any unmarried couple should get – was huge; she knew that, and it wasn’t a step she took easily. But it still felt right. Hiccup was not like other men, she’d known that right from the first time she’d heard his voice. She trusted him. And just kissing simply wasn’t enough anymore.

Juggling all those thoughts in her head, she lay still, her heart racing, as she waited for the noises of Ruff and Tuff in their rooms to settle down. Anxiously, she waited for another half hour or so before she left her bed as quietly as she could and walked over to her dressing room on silent feet. With her ears perked up for any sounds, she pulled her hidden stash of clothes from behind one of the wardrobes and changed into the borrowed dress of a serving girl. Warm boots and a thick woollen cloak with the key to the castle’s sallyport in one pocket completed her outfit.

Only a couple of minutes later, she left her chambers through a servant’s entrance, and once she’d reached the more general area of the castle, she dared to breathe a sigh of relief. She’d escaped her guardians’ watch once again, and getting noticed in the general chaos around the still-ongoing feast was fairly unlikely.

Just like the last two times, Astrid escaped the castle without any trouble, and with nervousness churning in her guts, she made her way through the dark night toward the stables.

. o O o .

Hiccup lay outstretched on the blanket that marked his bed, arms crossed behind his head, and stared at the stable’s ceiling. He wasn’t waiting, he told himself. He didn’t know whether Astrid would come here tonight, so there was no point in waiting for her. He could just as well go to sleep; he’d wake up anyway in case she showed up. And yet, he couldn’t…

He couldn’t calm down enough to sleep, his thoughts and emotions too jumbled, just like they’d been all day. This morning, he’d woken up with mixed feelings already. The idea of spending the day at the fighting ground, of standing against young men who actually wanted to fight and who would – without a doubt – be stronger and more dexterous than him and his stupid leg, had made him nervous. But he’d also looked forward to watching Astrid as she demonstrated her skills with bow and arrow, to seeing her as the strong and confident person he knew she was deep inside. Eret had told him enough of the usual procedure, after all. These two reasons alone had been enough already to leave him torn, but to add to those, the prospect of spending an entire day in her presence without being allowed to even look at her too much… that had been daunting.

By the time he’d reached the garrison, he’d almost felt prepared though, but only to have everything come out differently anyway.

He hadn’t needed to fight at all, since the swordmaster had already validated his skills before. That had been good. And for the rest of the day, he’d tried to focus on that, on the positive. On not getting rammed into the ground by some overly eager heavyweight instead of the panic in Astrid’s eyes. On discussing his ideas for Redpeak with Daniel instead of going crazy over her absence.

She’d been so pale… Seeing her sitting in that carriage had made his heart sing, as always, but not for long. He’d seen the pain in her eyes, how her face had drained itself of all colour, how she’d trembled. Not hurrying toward her, supporting her… if had taken every tiny bit of self-control he’d been able to muster.

And then there hadn’t been any news about her at all anymore. Over lunch, Daniel had requested an update on how she was doing, but the servant had only been able to inform him that she wasn’t in her rooms, that her warder was with her, but that her maidservant hadn’t told them where they went. Daniel had thanked the man and had sent him away with a knowing smile that made Hiccup guess Daniel knew where she was and wasn’t worried. That was something, at least – but not quite enough to keep Hiccup from worrying for her too.

Not being able to help her – not being allowed to help her – it nagged at him. She was so tough, acting out her part despite all the pain and fear inside her, lying to those closest to her, just because of him… And all he could do when she needed him was standing unmoving and watch her suffer. If only there was something he could do for her, something to help her with her fears and struggles, just… just something!

But he couldn’t think of anything.

With a heavy sigh, he reached for the latest book Daniel had brought, a collection of maps of the Western Mountain Range with explanations and descriptions of the terrain, vegetation, and general information. Maybe this would be able to distract him from thinking about her all the time. At the very least, it would be helpful to know all this come summer, and would let him be even more of an aid for Daniel and the others.

For about half an hour, Hiccup forced himself to concentrate on the pages, successfully pushing all thoughts about Astrid into the back of his mind, before he heard the already so familiar noises from the stable’s entrance door. The unavoidable scraping of metal against metal, the careful rustling of fabric as she entered. In a heartbeat, he was up on his feet and out of his stall, an eager smile on his face when he spotted her.

She looked strange though, weirdly timid in the way she stood there, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, chewing her lip, her hands wringing the heavy fabric of her cloak.

“Hey,” he greeted her with a warm smile, amused by how different this greeting was from the one the night before.

“Hey,” she replied, her voice thin, barely more than a high whisper. She only glanced up at him once before her eyes dropped and a slight blush, barely noticeable in the dim light, spread across her cheeks.

This was not what he’d expected. But maybe, what had happened that morning had hit her harder than assumed. Concerned, he stepped closer, reaching to cup her face. “Hey, how are you? Is everything all right?” His question made a quick smile tug at her lips. Or maybe it was his touch, he wasn’t sure.

“Yes, I’m good,” she mumbled, leaning into his hand for a moment before sobering up again. It made him doubt her answer, especially when she looked up at him with an anxious expression. “I just…” she began anew, biting her lip again before she went on. “Can I ask you something?”

Frowning, Hiccup nodded, pulling her along to sit down on the straw bales in his stall. “Of course,” he replied sincerely. “Anything.” And he meant it. There was nothing he wanted to hide from her. The thought of her possibly asking after his past made him cringe a little, but if she wanted to know, he would tell her. Or try to, at least. But that wasn’t what she wanted.

“What… what is it that’s between us?”

Her question caught him completely off guard. Was she really asking that? Sure, they’d never really talked about it, but… but she had to know! Right…? “It’s… it’s a soulbond,” he replied carefully, not sure what her question was about or where she was going.

Astrid gazed at him with a weirdly pained expression, nodded, but directly shook her head. “I know but… This bond,” she mumbled, placing her hand over her heart in that gesture he was all too familiar with. “Is that… all?” There was a slight shimmer in her eyes as she glanced up at him again, making her look incredibly vulnerable.

But Hiccup still wasn’t sure what she meant. A soulbond was supposed to be the strongest and truest connection people could share; what else could there be that outranked that?

He lifted his shoulders, a little helplessly, so she went on, “I mean… Is that… all that’s between us? Just this bond, the Gods’ Will? You keep bringing it up, and I... I mean, I can’t compare this to anything else. I don’t know how it’s supposed to feel, but… but to me, it’s so much… more...“ she broke off, voice trembling, and finally he understood.

Her reluctance and that pained look she’d gotten when he’d brought up the bond the night before… It all made sense now.

Gasping out a shaky laugh, he slowly shook his head. “Oh Astrid,” he sighed, reaching out for her hand to entangle his fingers with hers – just like their lives were entangled into one thread too. How could she even think… “Of course, that’s not all! Astrid, I…” He trailed off, trying to find words strong enough to make her understand.

But even those too-weak words already seemed to be enough for her face to light up. “So, it’s not just that the Gods decided for us?” she asked for clarification, hope shimmering in her beautiful eyes.

It made Hiccup’s heart clench painfully. That’s what she’d been thinking, and because of his words, no less? “No, it’s not just that,” he clarified softly, squeezing her hand tighter. “Astrid, I’ve never felt anything even remotely close to this before. But it’s definitely more than just obeying to the Gods’ wishes. You… you’re like my personal sun, what makes my life warm and bright when I’d thought it would be misty darkness forever. And I don’t really care if it’s what the Gods want or not. It’s what I want. You’re everything to me.”

Joy sparkled in her eyes, and with something between a sigh and laughter, she leaned forward, almost threw herself into his arms even. Before he could do anything, her lips had found his, kissing him, short but hard. “It’s the same for me,” she gasped against his lips, still giggling occasionally. She was shaking, and he pulled her closer, tilting his head to kiss her more deeply in a slow and sensual manner. She complied without restraints until she sat in his lap once more, her hands in his hair driving him mad. Hiccup felt the usual heat build inside him, but fought to push it down in order to concentrate on her, on letting his lips and tongue move with hers.

Holding her in his arms like this, it was a wonderful feeling, especially after how worried he’d been for her all day. Just feeling her lithe body beneath his hands as they wrapped around her waist, knowing that she was all right. Inhaling her potent scent of mayweed, listening to her gasping for air as their kiss ended. Her warmth beneath the fabric of her dress, the way her body yielded, soft against his chest...

“How was your day?” he asked, retreating slightly to look at her. Forcing himself to focus.

“It was… okay,” she said with a shrug, absently fiddling with strands of his hair. She looked too tense though for her words to feel real.

“I mean, what happened at the fighting ground...” he asked carefully. He didn’t want to pry, but he wanted her to know that, with him, she didn’t need to act tough.

“Oh, that…” she smiled weakly, slightly shaking her head as she dropped her hands. “It was nothing. I just… overreacted, I guess. It was the place, Odin’s Tree, the memories…” Shivering, she shrugged. “And I feared… well, with how shaky my hands had been, I wasn’t so sure whether shooting an arrow at our future King with the goal to miss him would be such a good idea,” she added, laughing slightly. “Just imagine what would happen if I’d missed that goal?”

Hiccup nodded, understanding. “And afterwards?” he asked gently, not wanting her to linger on that thought. He could imagine all too well how much that idea must have scared her.

“I visited some friends,” she said, smiling absently. “Just getting on other thoughts, you know?”

“And did it work?”

“It did,” she nodded, then frowned. “Those other thoughts, though...“ Once again, she blushed, shyly peeking up at him as she bit her lips. “I… I’d like to try something… if that’s okay?”

Confused, Hiccup nodded. A smile tugged at his lips as she leaned closer to kiss him once more and it reminded him of that day after Eret’s accolade, where she’d said something similar. And just like then, he let her take the lead, only carefully kissing her back, and waited for what it was she wanted to try.

Blindly, she reached for his hand, and he complied as she lifted it to her chest, wondering. He could feel her hand over his heart, warm and soothing like so often before. Basking in their connection, feeling each other’s heartbeat while they kissed, it was a wonderful sensation, but nothing they hadn’t done before. So, what was it she wanted to–

Hiccup froze.

Astrid had placed his hand over her heart, as usual, but instead of the firm plain over her sternum, he felt… soft, yielding flesh, perfectly sized for his hand to cup and…

With a grunt, he retreated. He stared at her, at his hand on her breast, and back at her eyes. There was a strange expression in them; stern, but also pleading and insecure. Her hand that was firmly holding his in place even as he made a half-hearted attempt at pulling away, was trembling.

“Astrid, what…?” he gasped, head spinning. This was wrong, he couldn’t, mustn’t touch her like this, it wasn’t allowed, wasn’t…

And yet, he couldn’t bring himself to put more force into pulling his hand away. Not with the vulnerable pleading look in Astrid’s eyes, and not with how… how good it felt. How right! So he just shook his head, over and over, disbelievingly, panting, his heart beating frantically.

“I just...,” Astrid breathed, her voice so weak that he could barely hear it over the blood thrumming through his ears. “I just want to know… I mean, if you don’t want to, you don’t-don’t have to. But… I just want to know… how it feels.”

A strangled groan escaped him. If he didn’t want to? Gods, if she knew just how much he wanted to! Without his help, his fingers flexed, and the little gasp she made in response almost made him lose every bit of coherent thoughts. Yes, he wanted to; wanted to touch her, feel her, draw more noises like that little gasp out of her. He wanted–

Desperately, he shook his head, yet was still unable to move his hand away. “Astrid, we can’t!” he implored, fighting for control over his body and mind. “It’s not right, too risky. What if–”

“None of this is right, if you ask anyone else,” she interrupted him. “Our kisses, our feelings, me being here…”

She had a point. But still.

“Astrid – that’s different. We–”

“I know,” she interrupted him again, voice trembling but with a little more vigour in it now. “And I don’t… I don’t mean…” She broke off, lips and eyes pressed shut for a moment before she looked at him again. “I don’t mean to go… all the way,” she clarified, another endearing blush spreading over her cheeks as she swallowed. “No… no getting naked and… that. I just want to know… how it feels when it’s you touching me… It’s supposed to feel good, right? I just want to know how it feels, or whether I’m broken...”

Understanding dawned on him, and he could only stare as his mind worked through what she’d said, what she meant.

She was afraid. Of course she was, she had been all the time. She was afraid of what had been done to her, of a repetition, of how that influenced her future. Broken… She wasn’t broken, and he knew that. If she had been, she wouldn’t have been able to stand any of their interaction.

Hiccup swallowed, eyes closed as he tried to think. He’d wanted to be able to do something to help her, so that she could overcome her fears… And here now, she asked him for this?

He shouldn’t give in. There was nothing but a very thin line between what she asked for and what would be too much. But he could see how scared she was, how deeply hurt she was by her fears. He’d wanted to be able to do something for her... Well, this he could do. For her, he could walk this line.

His free hand trembled as he reached to cup her cheek, tilting her head a little before he leaned in to kiss her, deep and slow, his hand on her breast moving with the same pace.

. o O o .

When Astrid had come here, she’d been incredibly nervous.

But now, pressed into the straw, she did not, could not feel any of that any longer.

She felt wonderful. Everything was so intense; his lips on hers, robbing her of her senses, his weight on top of her, barely supported on one arm, his hand on her breast, caressing and squeezing. The way their gasped breaths mingled. It was intoxicating.

A small part of Astrid wanted to laugh at herself. For all these weeks now, she'd marvelled about this strange feeling, this warm tingling in her belly that only Hiccup could elicit in her, had wanted more of it.

On other times, she’d wondered how making love would feel, whether she would be able to stand a man's touch, or whether her attackers had ruined that for her.

But now, she understood. Now, she realised what that tingling sensation was as it grew with every single one of Hiccup's touches, became stronger, hotter, more, until it seemed to consume her, robbed her of all senses, and ruled her every thought.

Oh yes, she would have laughed at her own stupidity if only she'd had the mind for it. But instead, she moaned against Hiccup's mouth as his thumb brushed over her breast, over her nipple beneath the dress. It was such a light touch, and yet so powerful, so overwhelming. She arched up, seeking more, and felt his lips stretch into a grin.

His motions grew stronger, his whole body moving against her, with her, and she wrapped her arms around his waist just to have something to hold on to. It was maddening, wonderful, and her only regret was not to have done any of this sooner.

Eventually, Astrid became too distracted by all those sensations to keep kissing him, and he seemed to fare little better. His lips brushed over her face, her neck, leaving damp spots of condensed breaths and distracted licks in their wake. Her hands clenched, crunching up his tunic and slowly pulling it upwards. Eventually, her hands touched the bare skin on his back, smooth, but damp with sweat. Again, her hands clenched as his tongue left a damp spot just below her ear, her fingers digging into his back. It made Hiccup groan against her neck, the sounds vibrating through his entire body.

Despite her spaced-out mind, his reaction thrilled her. Because he'd reacted to her. She had drawn that sound out of him. Curiously, her hands wandered on beneath his tunic, gliding over more skin than she'd cared to think about so far but found utterly irresistible to touch, Hiccup's continuing groans spurring her on even more.

Soon, he was moving more and more rhythmically, rocking and grinding their bodies together. Her skirts, squished between them, were completely rumpled, but Astrid couldn't care less, the sublime sensation of them being so close on so many levels robbing her of every other thought.

“Ahh-strid!” he moaned, then suddenly let out a wild howl, muffled against her neck. His whole body seemed to twitch and shake, pressed so tightly against her that she could feel how his muscles flexed, even through their clothes.

It bewildered Astrid, but only lasted a couple of seconds. Then he stilled, panting ragged breaths, his body trembling but otherwise unmoving.

“Hiccup?” she asked, confused as she let her hand glide over his back again. “Are you all right?”

He made a low noise, something between a groan and a whine, and pushed himself up on shaking arms to gaze down at her. He looked… strange; face slack with his lips parted, his eyes blown wide, dark, and with an almost… scared expression in them.  

“Oh, Gods...” he gasped, slowly shaking his head, then awkwardly rolled off her and sat up. Groaning, he buried his face in his hands, mumbling words she couldn’t quite understand.

Astrid sat up too, watching him. She was confused, didn’t understand what just happened. Why had he stopped? And what had happened to him? “Hiccup, what–” she managed to get out, reaching out her hand to touch his shoulder, but didn’t continue when he lifted his head to throw her a pained look.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, visibly fighting between leaning into her touch and scooting away. “I’m so sorry, that shouldn't have… Freya, forgive me, I didn’t mean to…”

“Hiccup, what happened?” she demanded, now a little scared herself. What had brought on this sudden change?

But again, Hiccup just gave her that pained look. “I’m sorry,” he said instead of an answer. “I just… hope... I hope that it was, was okay? For you, I mean?”  He swallowed nervously. “I mean... I know you didn’t... Gods, did that help... help answer things?”

Astrid nodded, getting more confused with each word he said. Okay wasn’t the right word though. It had been fantastic. She still felt as if her body was singing, blood thrumming through her, seeking more of his touch. It hadn’t been enough.

“Good,” he murmured, shoulders slumping. “But this was a bad idea. I never should have let it come this far, should–” Once more, he broke off and shook his head.

Astrid felt the urge to crawl over to him, to embrace and kiss him, to tell him that it was okay. But she didn’t even know what it was that bothered him. Had she made some mistake?

“I-I think you should go back,” he finally said, more firmly than anything he’d said before. “You really shouldn’t be here, it’s too dangerous. Too risky. Yeah, you should…” He fought himself up on his legs, holding one hand out to help her up as well.

Bewildered, she followed him as he led her to the door. He walked a little strangely, but that might be because of his leg. She pondered offering her help to massage it again, but decided against it. Hiccup seemed sincere in wanting her gone. Meticulously, he checked her dress and hair for stray bits of straw and did his best to straighten out the wrinkles in her skirt. Then he declared her good to go, and opened the door for her.

Astrid hesitated though, throwing him another puzzled look. “Hiccup… I’m sorry if I did something wrong, I didn’t mean–”

“No, no,” he cut her off. “No, you didn’t… Gods, no, Astrid. It was my mistake, my responsibility… I’m sorry!”

None of this made sense…

“Are we… good?” she asked cautiously, eyes burning with the threat of tears. She didn’t want to cry, but, Gods, she was so confused.

But to her relief, Hiccup’s features softened. He made a cautious step toward her, and after hesitating for the briefest of moments, took her into his arms. “Yes, we are,” he reassured her, even pressed his lips to her forehead. “We are good, always. But you really ought to go now.” He let go of her, and she made a few steps toward the door, but then turned toward him again.

Let your heart guide you.

Before he could react, she had crossed the distance between them once more and stretched to press her lips to his. Her hands were curled around his sharp jaw, cradling him, holding him.

For the blink of an eye, she thought he would resist, would pull away. But then he leaned in, his arms wound around her waist, his lips parting easily for her. He kissed her back with all the abandon she’d hoped for, the sudden tension between them simmering down into the background.

When they parted, Hiccup gave her an apologetic but warm smile. “We’re good,” he repeated, voice sincere and thick.

Astrid nodded, smiled tentatively, and then turned to hike back to the castle.

But she still had no idea what just happened.

. o O o .

This chapter was one of those I had in mind for ages. I'm pretty relieved that it's done now, even though I feel like it didn't end up quite as I wanted it to... But then, it never does...

What are your thought about the part at the beginning, their conversations and Mala? And what about the Hiccstrid part? Some bits still feel a bit rushed to me, sorry there...

Next chapter

[veliusthewanderer]

My Most Rage-Filled Rant EVER!

As I’m writing this, nearly a month has passed since the Capitol Hill riots which took the lives of 5 people, injured dozens more and very likely contributed to the greatest Covid-19 spread in the new year, I feel a need to make my feelings known. I also have to make clear that not everyone who is a conservative is going to get the full fury of my rant. Hence, I decided to break this down into two sections. The first will be addressed to those conservatives who might’ve supported Trump until the Riots happened, then turned their backs on him. I’ll even address those who may have abandoned Trump well before the events of January 6. I will be dignified, respectful, and compassionate. The second part will be broken down for three groups, and here I will not be so merciful, so if you offend easily, you may wish to stop reading now.To the first group, now that you’ve seen how Trump behaved during the last four years, and up to the dreadful day where 70,000 people stormed the Capitol on his orders to stop the election certification, do you have any regrets backing him back in 2016? You likely have turned your back on him and even denounced him. The first step to handling any problem is acknowledging that you have a problem, and its never easy to do so, especially in a time where emotions continue to run high as a result of the most contentious election that this country ever had. You no doubt have family, co-workers, friends, lovers who have all but ostracized you for your decision to abandon ‘the cause’. As hard as this will be to read, at this point these people should be considered lost causes. No matter how much factual information you try to provide them, they will never accept it. Instead of trying to rehabilitate them, its better to cast them adrift and let them stew in their disgust. You may feel like you need to keep a line of communication open-and that’s certainly your choice-but you run the risk of inflaming the resentments to a point in which the outcome will not be a good one, so if you choose to keep a line open, always approach the topic slowly. For many in my own inner circle-family mostly, there may never be a way to bridge the gulf of misunderstanding. As much as I would love to open their eyes to the damage Trump has done, its never going to break the hypnotic trance he’s put them in. For you, its enough to know you aren’t alone in not knowing how to handle the division. You took a big chance in condemning Trump even if only because of his role in the Insurrection and for that you have my never-ending admiration and respect. I personally will not shame you for the prior support you gave to Trump because you honestly didn’t know what kind of person he truly was. I will apologize if I have put you in the crosshairs with your colleagues who still adore Trump, but you needed to know that I do not hold a grudge against you for whatever prior support you showed him.Now that I’ve addressed the first group and offered them my moral support, its time to address the lost causes out there. I must insist again that if you’re easily offended by the slightest truth, then you need to stop reading because the gloves are about to come off. I will be addressing three particular groups in this second half: the rioters (assuming they haven’t been arrested already), the co-conspirators in Congress (all GOP, by the way) and lastly, the people who while not directly involved in the Insurrection continue to espouse the Big Lie that Trump was cheated. I will be sure to break my rage-rant down, but all will start with the same opening line. I will also remind you that as my identity has not nor will ever be revealed, there is no point in posting death-threats. However, if you insist on doing so, I WILL report them to Tumblr and the police.

- To the rioters who have yet to be arrested:

HOW DARE YOU!! How dare you attempt an insurrection against a lawfully elected government on the basis of a BS claim by your ‘Great Leader’ Trump. You claim to be fighting against ‘communism’ yet you’re willing to enact a fascist dictatorship because you’re frightened of the alternative. This is a DEMOCRACY, and in a democracy there are winners and losers. Those who lost have an opportunity in four years-unless they’ve already had two presidential terms-to run again. Had Trump not incited 70,000 people to storm the Capitol with calls to hang Mike Pence and Nancy Pelosi, then half-heartedly attempted to stop the rioting, he could’ve had his chance again in 2024. Because of your actions and his role, he will very likely NEVER run for political office again. The fact that many of you who participated in the Insurrection were military veterans is the most damning thing about this situation. You fought against fascism, you were on guard against communist insurgency, you defended this country from Islamic extremism, yet you were willing to march in lockstep with a soon-to-be ex-President Trump to install a dictatorship because you bought into the Big Lie. You should not only be ashamed of yourself, but you should be stripped of any medals and commendations you earned in your career. Another point to make, and one I will repeat throughout the rest of this rage-rant, the fact that 5 people died during the insurrection. 5 people that shouldn’t have had to die. Four of the deaths were rioters and at least one of them was a military veteran. One police officer who did his duty to hold off the mob also died. You may think you did your patriotic duty by making your outrage known, but that is no consolation to the families of the people who died. They died because you wanted Trump to seize power and stop a legal election process. If the very thought that their families will now have to celebrate birthdays, Holidays, anniversaries and other happy occasions without them doesn’t make you feel guilty and ashamed, then you are not patriotic at all, only cold-hearted and stupid

-To the GOP traitors who abetted the Trump Insurrection:

HOW DARE YOU!! How dare you aid a would-be dictator to overturn the results of a legal election. You not only bought into the Big Lie, you promoted it within your offices. You even ran on the Big Lie and-somehow-won. Case in point is Marjorie Taylor Green, the woman known for her QAnon videos. She was on record as suggesting execution of Democrat leaders would be the only way to end the ‘pedophilia ring, Deep State system’ that she claimed was working against Trump. But its not just Green. Josh Hawley of Missouri and Ted Cruz of Texas were the loudspeakers for the Big Lie, and even after the Capitol had finally been cleared of the rioters, insisted on objecting to the electoral results even knowing the objections were based on false claims and would not be considered. Even now, they remain committed to the Big Lie and have already begun their effort to obstruct President Biden’s agenda which can help ALL Americans regardless of political views, particularly where the pandemic is concerned. They would rather see Americans suffer with disease, loss of jobs, foreclosure, eviction because they still believe Biden is illegitimate and Trump is the rightful winner, than to assist in improving the conditions the pandemic has left and continues to leave in its wake. I make this warning clear: we will remember what you did when 2022 comes and you’re up for re-election. This goes for the other 137 House GOP and 13 Senate GOP who participated in Trump’s attempted coup and in some cases (Mo Brooks of Alabama) even fired up the rioters just before the Insurrection began. I should also remind you that the blood of 5 people coats your hands, and that the families of those 5 souls lost on that terrible day will never forgive you for your role in it. Shame on you and may you rot in eternal damnation.

-Finally, to those who still believe Trump won:

SHAME ON YOU!!

You, who spread the Big Lie around social media. You who couldn’t be bothered to actually research some new claim before spreading it around because it came from a ‘trusted source’ such as a family member, close friend, co-worker, fellow churchgoer, even ‘news’ outlets like F*X News, OANN, and Newsmax. You like to tell those who challenge your information that they refuse to question ‘facts’ and buy into whatever CNN or ABC News says. The cold truth is, it is YOU that refuse to fact-check. Whether its because you believe the source or because the idea that the alternate fact is in fact a bald-faced lie scares you doesn’t matter. It was because of you that 70,000 people went to Washington DC, listened to the fiery orations of Trump, Don Jt., Giuliani, and Brooks, then marched with the intention to take hostages, even execute government officials all for the purpose of making sure Trump won his second term. It’s because of you that Marjorie Taylor Green is now a congresswoman and still-despite her claims otherwise-attached to QAnon. It is because of you that there is division in this country that may or may not ever be truly healed despite the best efforts of the new POTUS. Worst of all, it may very well be you that keeps us locked down in a pandemic that your so-called ‘saviour’ had the power to defeat but instead chose to sit on his butt and dismiss as a novelty that would magically go away. If you’re already thinking of sending hate posts in response to this, I can only see it as your continued refusal to come to reality and accept that your Great Leader lost the election, lost his numerous court battles to save his legacy, and ultimately failed to forcefully overturn the legitimate results of an election that was already contentious before Covid-19 changed the rules. You are a lost cause and should henceforth be treated as such. And if you went to Washington DC to participate in the rally-turned-insurrection and have found yourself hence without a job, ostracized by friends and family, then you deserve it. You cannot blame the “libtards” for costing you your job, costing you your love life, costing you respect. You ultimately have only yourself to blame. You might as well hide in the basement, stick your fingers in your ears and hum as loud as possible for the next four years because like it or not, Biden is now the POTUS

[queenofthewaste]

Hi it's 3am (by the time I finished this it was in fact closer to 5am) and I'm so tired and I don't care anymore and this is literally my blog so if I can't be emo here then where? (A diary, I suppose, but shutup)

To preface this, mutuals, whatevs you've seen me go through fandom after fandom and then become a pseudo aesthetic blog so you can handle me angsting a bit. IRLs on the other hand, if you read this I would appreciate you not ever acknowledging this in anyway shape of form bc like. Emotional vulnerability bad (ง'̀-'́)ง

Up until a few months ago I was in a relationship with someone who I cared about very deeply. The relationship itself was not perfect but I was pretty happy, and best I can tell, so was she. Ultimately we broke up because of the fact that she felt she couldn't come out to her family. This wasn't fun for me or anything but its something I was aware of as a possible end so y'know. Whatever.

Unfortunately this break up wasn't even remotely clean. She continued to talk to me, not seeming to get my requests for space and eventually we went back to cuddling and other forms of emotional intimacy that are far oustide of my platonic wheelhouse. At this situation's worst she made some pretty specifically romantic moves towards me, which I would call almost actively callous. Eventually after a few months of going back and forth on whether or not we were talking we (I) actually were firm about it. This was on Halloween, and the following week or so was basically "great" insofar as I didn't have to think about her.

Unfortunately the next week it was my birthday and she turned up on my doorstep after my party upset I had invited some mutual friends, and I helped her with her emotional distress and then walked her home. Then I had no contact. For about a month.

A month later she messaged me on Twitter. Then a week later she turned up somewhere she knew I was going to be (this is somewhat debatable but ultimately I still felt stalked and in a weird way kind of betrayed).

Then nothing until Christmas day when I received an anonymous "I miss you" on this tumblr. Not provable as her like who else misses me lol? (All the creepy men who I keep rejecting but I don't they have my tumblr). Then on NYE she messaged my housemate about me. Then a few days later she does the same.

Ultimately my feeling about all of this are;

I’m sad about the circumstance of the break up. It feels like a waste of something good, but I could probably deal with it better if either of us seemed even remotely happy since it.

I think it’s fucking heartbreaking that someone I cared so deeply for would so quickly become someone I desperately wanted to avoid, the extent to which I want to avoid her is actively depressing in and of itself 

She’s clearly not been doing okay since we broke up (or for a while before we broke up but she’s been more noticeably dysfunctional since we broke up) and it’s so frustrating to watch her feel alienated from her friends (and to an extent have actually alienated her friends) and to engage in self destructive behaviours etc, and have no room, or even right to do anything. 

As an addition to the previous point, I am usually cold to a fault, so I hate how I have been unable to switch off here. I hate that I still care about her the way I do when everything she has done in the past four months has had an active detrimental affect on me.

This is probably the least “valid” feeling to have about the dissolution of the relationship, and I actively consider this to be deeply petty but here we are - I think it’s unfair that she is telling my housemate that she misses me. I think its unfair that she was the one to do romantic things during the messy period post break up. I think it’s unfair that she made a choice and now seems to want to have the sympathy of the person who was “left” or “dumped” or whatever. Fuck you that’s not fair. I haven’t made my feelings about this known. I didn’t message her fucking housemate to tell him I miss her. Of course I fucking miss her but I’m also not a fucking douchebag.

I also feel betrayed by how willing she was to hurt me and mess me around post-break up. She told her friends things she had promised she wouldn’t and generally handled things shittily. Honestly I just want to know why? I didn’t do anything fucking wrong. We didn’t break up even due to shitty behaviour what the fuck did I do to deserve all of this 

I still want to talk to her. I sort of feel like there’s nothing left to say anymore, but I do 

Running concurrently to this is the fact that last year I was voted in to be the president of the Comic Book Society (club) at my university. At the time I was pleased and looked forward to it. One of the people who would be running it with me was a guy I was good friends with. Then he (probably) sexually assaulted me, and (definitely) became super creepy about his feelings for me. I low key told him to fuck off and didn't speak to him for the summer. During which time he got therapy and seemed to improve, and because I didn't want to have to do paperwork I figured I would let him stick around. Of course then he continued to be creepy so I had to tell him to fuck off properly.

The break up I had just gone through, and the fact I had to fire 1/3 of my exec did not make running the society easy, but ultimately neither of those things were the actual problem. 

The problem instead was that my members just. Wouldn't talk. No matter what. I did everything I could. I know I'm often somewhat intimidating but I also know I'm reasonably funny and decent at conversation in general. But over three months these people remained mute and it was infuriating. They wanted a weekly lecture about comics and I'm just not doing that. So I've allowed the society to fold.

Ultimately about this I guess I feel

Sort of betrayed by the guy who was into me, obviously I suppose I shouldn’t have forgiven him after the (possible) sexual abuse, but I was tired and thought maybe it would be fine. But ultimately he was a guy who claimed to care about me/ know me well, and everything he did belied the opposite which is such a fundamental kind of gross that it’s sort of upsetting.

About my society failing? I take on the responsibility personally, even though every piece of evidence suggests there wasn’t much I could really have done to increase turnout, bar become more general interest (Like talk about the movies more) which ultimately defeats the point of the fucking society so. No. Basically, lol, I feel like a total failure for failing to run a society that was clearly doomed to failure from the beginning

ALSO I’m twenty one. Due to issues with my mental and physical health during my A levels I had to spend an additional year in college. I then failed to get the grades I wanted to go the uni I really wanted to go to. As a result of this I came to uni and was a bit “behind” where I wanted to be in life. Then, naturally, of course, I managed to fail a module of my course, meaning I had to resit the whole year. Making me a Twenty One year old First Year. I haven’t told any of my friends about this, meaning I’m consistently lying a bit about what I’m doing. (I did tell my now ex, and am sort of paranoid she may have told someone but whatever) Oh also one of my housemates is resitting his first year, which arguably makes my extended deception worse, because it’s not helped with his self perception. Oh also multiples of my friends are getting engaged now 

I guess the way I feel about this mess of shit is 

Failurex1000

I feel extremely “behind” some idea of where I feel I should be in my life, which is ridiculous because I’ve never had a clear picture of where I want to be and when, so there’s no plan to be behind on 

Failure Failure Failure

I feel somewhat guilty about not informing said housemate bc he’s insecure about resitting, and also insecure about me being arbitrarily “better” than him, but also I have a crippling fear of being seen as weak or stupid and he’s not my fucking responsibility.

Again, the friends all getting engaged thing makes me feel weirdly lagging so. yay

ALSO I live with three boys currently. I say “boys” because despite their status as legal adults, the juvenile term is really more appropriate. One of whom has had a crush on me for a relatively extended period of time now. He claims to be over me, but his behaviours consistently belie that he is not. Another is just generally a bit immature, and screeches down his headset playing shit video games in the middle of the night (this is in fact why I am currently up and writing this) The third is technically fine but he contributes to the general mess and skid marks on the toilet with the seat always fucking up and the hair all over the fucking bathroom dear fucking god 

Summing up this one too;

I have already decided to live alone next year, and have made the arrangements to do so, Though this means I will basically be broke re: disposable money

If I ever see another fucking toilet seat up I’m going to scream

I nearly stabbed my housemate today for waking me up. And now five hours later nearly I have been unable to get any sleep. 

Alot of my complaints about my housemates highlight two specific things for me 

My upbringing required me to be more independent from a younger age. I’m grateful for the relative competence this has provided me earlier on, but also I think I’m becoming resentful, or jealous, of these people who got to be children until even now? I cannot imagine being 19 and behaving the way these boys do (or twenty one and behaving the way my ex does) and I can’t help but wonder about the kind of coddling they must have had relative to my life.

I need my own space. I have had little control of my life and living arrangements for quite some time now (even having spent three months or so technically homeless last summer) and this is potentially my only opportunity to get that so

Finally, Alot of how I’ve reacted to stuff the past few months has made me feel concerned about my mental health? Several years ago I went to a psychologist for an extended period of time (I was forced to lol) and toward the end of the time I was seeing her she mentioned cluster B personality disorders to me. Obviously being a sixteen year old who thought she was fine this made me balk, I started lying to seem neurotypical or whatever the word is now, and then eventually managed to get out of having to go, but now I think there was probably some stock in what she was talking about and am now going to try and pursue this, so I get to dally with the NHS’ adult mental health services.

Summing up

I don’t actually want a diagnosis and on some level think I’m fine but also line up with the DSM of two of the cluster B’s relatively well and am clearly not doing well so my belief that I’m fine is unhelpful

In the end, it is clearly my pride that’s gong to lead to my death. 

Thanks for reading, anonymous internet person or person I know irl stalking my blog/ignoring my request for this to be ignored if you know me irl :I

[fencesandfrogs]

really hate how i can just lose an entire tumblr post because i accidentally resized a window.

anyway there’s no fun preamble this time i was rambling about abuse and love and i don’t want to reworkshop the lead in joke.

[2k words, 8 minute read. text wall. mostly avoids outright description of abuse, but i still wouldn’t recommend it as reading if you’re iffy about that kind of thing.]

okay to quickly summarize what i said before i lost everything: i’m talking about how abuse shaped my views of love in a way that’s really fundamental and i don’t often realize.

i dated this guy for like three years, if we were older we’d probably have been married ergo i feel weird calling him my boyfriend.

we both had similar abusive households. bad dads, moms who inadvertently exacerbated it, younger siblings we felt the need to shelter from what we experienced. he wasn’t ready to acknowledge his household as such, i didn’t push it.

i have this really unhealthy protective streak over feelings/how people who love me need to confide in me always or they don’t care that i love them, something i am working on and is no longer that dramatic, but in the context of this, it used to be.

when my brother was born i struggled w how i felt about him. he was my father’s golden child (not my mothers, i’m not sure how he’ll feel about her considering i have it as a fact i am her Actual Truthful Literal Favorite Child, but i don’t think she shows it? but i don’t know for sure) something which made me push him away

also, my mom and i lived on our own for two years when i was 2ish in like a really tight financial situation.

so my brother just has positive memories of my dad and even when i’m twelve and haven’t started being done with my father’s bs, i do feel like there’s this massive wall of why i am like i am that he just doesn’t get.

anyway so then my parents get divorced properly and i’m like “well shit, can’t believe i was stupid enough to trust in the stability of their relationship. guess i’m never going to believe in stable romance. time to never get married or have children because like fuck i’m bringing them into this world.”

interestingly, i did not go “men are untrustworthy,” as i would have honestly expected (because i’m basically going “well my mom and my grandmother both picked bad men who were bad in the same way guess my family doesn’t know how to pick husbands”), possibly because of complex reasons that may leak out as i continue to write, for a while, i honestly viewed my mom as worse than my dad. that’s, definitely not true and has to do with how they both interacted with me and how it played off one another, so.

anyway i thought about that but then i also had read the first part of seven habits of highly productive people or whatever its called and was like “hm yes love is a verb isn’t it guess that means love is a choice but also if i love someone then i better do it with my full body because i’m not going to cause the inevitable instability of any and all future relationships”

which, you may be able to see where this is going basically. i’m already hyper protective. there are some gaps in my childhood memory but i felt the need to protect my mom from my dad so do with that what you will. i usually interpret the charitable child-doesn’t-understand-romantic-affection. if for some reason you feel the need to bring this up with me, i will probably block you because i just can’t but it is relevant to this post.

and so my baby brother who i love dearly but also feel is getting all the love and acceptance i didn’t but also doesn’t understand why i’m the way i am (because he’s, you know, six) gets older and i’m like. “hm. seems like now that i’ve made myself a nontarget, he’s taking the brunt of it. can’t have that nope he doesn’t know how to protect himself he takes it personally. that’s weak, but that’s fine that’s because everyone else babies him but not me. i shall both protect him from harm and encourage him to be strong.”

fun fact: we once had a sword fight with sticks. he was six or seven. i was twelve or thirteen. he got whacked and his nose started bleeding. i refused to acknowledge i was doing anything wrong, because he should have accepted the risks.

(in my defence, my mom told me something similar a lot, and i didn’t really grasp that him being six meant he had much less reasoning power. as far as i was concerned, i had sprung from the womb fully intact like athena and just had to be taught how to do things, which meant my logical processing had never improved, it was just always that good.)

but at the same time, i was desperate to win back his trust and affection.

by ruffling his hair because it irritated the shit out of him. but that was done because maybe if he could learn to deal with that, he could learn to put up a wall when anyone yelled at him. and in the meantime, i would happily antagonize my father, because if he yelled at me at the dinner table, he’d apologize to my brother for upsetting him.

now. i don’t think ruffling your younger sibling’s hair is really anything to make a fuss over, and my dad is definitely not the “i do this to make you better” type, so i’m not sure exactly what to say about all this, except that it happened.

and so this idea of self-sacrifice in love, both in drawing other harm to myself and in being “loved less” to prevent future harm, became very essential to my whole idea of love.

so. i have three relationships, in relatively quick succession. the first is a quasi-romance that last for an indefinite amount of time but definitively ends when i decide i need to break up with the second.

the second is 3 months long, and basically can be summarized as: “this person is kind and never yells at me and is attractive. we get along and he makes me laugh and smile and is generally a good boyfriend. he makes me feel special and he respects my interests and he legitimately wants me to be happy. i feel safe with him, and i feel like i trust him.

unfortunately i’m not personally attracted to him, and i have 0 romantic interest in him.”

also, we wanted very different things in the future. we were like 14, but see: “my love for someone must be timeless for it to matter”

so i broke up with him because while i felt some kind of love towards him, it wasn’t what he wanted. which you know is a generally good thing, but it still feeds back into my idea of love.

love is sacrifice and pain. i love him, so i slash our relationship to prevent him from being hurt in the future. it doesn’t matter how i feel.

so then i date someone for three years and i display exactly the same behaviour and while i legitimately think we had a good relationship, i’ve been reflecting on the worse parts & he definitely, i believe inadvertently, took advantage of my self-sacrificing tendencies.

or, to put it more verbosely but correctly, he shared my longevity in relationships/love but not my total committal to 100% of yourself immediately, nor my self-sacrificing streak*.

*we’ll circle back to this

he actually was way more cautious in trusting me. which is actual the true reason he broke up with me, regardless of what he says. but that’s neither here nor there.

so he’s dating this person who is definitely traumatized (case in point: he once put his hand on my shoulder, which startled me because i didn’t know he was there, and i whirled around, primed to uppercut him, before i realized “oh hey i both know this person also i know everyone in this building there are like 10k people in town and 500 people in my school i do not need to hurt anyone”), but he can’t quite acknowledge that because that means he’s also abused, which isn’t true.

so i both can’t understand what he’s going through (which the implication because it’s worse), but also, he understands what i’ve been through. because he’s been through it.

(to which i say: lmao he saw the aftermath. the best parts, short of when i was three. he saw the direct incidents i could point to. i don’t think i ever mentioned a Lot of shit.

also other stuff thoroughly traumatized me. i still carry granola bars with me because if someone says they haven’t eaten a meal i feel compelled to make sure they eat.)

ergo, acknowledging that i need him to make concessions to feel safe and secure in our relationship means that our shared experiences, of which is are worse, are traumatizing, and we can’t have that, now can we?

so i can’t be overly self-sacrificing, unwilling to blame, and yet also turning minor disputes into major issues in a way that demands he meet me in the middle. nominally, yes, he promises to take blame fairly, but he can’t really follow through on that, because that means i am not behaving like him, which we can’t have.

(this was also an issue re. mental health and adhd. pretty much the same thought loop.)

there’s a lot of stuff i think, but namely that time he told me i couldn’t possibly understand how hard it is to make a decision that might cause tension in your family when i, age 14, fucking did that?

like, yeah, i made this decision that i knew would cut ties with my father and i knew might sever my chance at having a positive relationship with my brother, the singular person i love most in the entire world, watched that play out, waited with bated breath until my brother came back to me, still whole, when i was fourteen.

also, i then watched my mother do it again, once when i was sixteen and once just a few months ago.

i think i do in fact understand how that might feel.

anyway i’m losing my point and i’m hungry but basically. even now i have a hard time saying “this is not a fully healthy way to love,” not in a “i don’t accept that i was hurt as a child” way, but in a “but how else do you love?” way

i’m sure you can see that i drag concessions around almost every statement i make regarding my behaviour and the behaviour of those i love. the idea of actually posting this seems bad.

i think finding someone equally self sacrificial, confrontational, and ride or die from basically the get go would be absolutely fine.

(realism check: probably not, but let me have this.)

so. yeah. that’s cool.

*oh wait i just realized so. current theory about break up. is it was an act of self sacrifice just like mine. i’m not really being super fair to him, because i’m a lil angry, there was a lot of stuff going on i didn’t talk about because this is about me, dammit

but anyway he did definitely have plenty of acts of sacrifice, and this break up was very similar to the one i had before. i think he was on some level aware, beyond the cursury reasons given (both from him and me, earlier in this post), that he was harming me. not intentionally, not even always directly, and rarely in a way i blamed him for, but that he was, by the way he was, exploiting something buried very deep inside of me.

so he said, “this is not what i want, it doesn’t matter what matthew wants, this is what’s best for him and that’s what i truly want.”

which, you know, has me being like “ah yes r relationship. how good it was. what a fitting end. he did the good thing.”

should i be thinking that? that’s a discussion for another time.

[wildlyhardphilosopher-blog]

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CESAR ON TV Training lasts approximately half an hour Eastern Companion Dog Training consists of a team of experienced dog trainers who share one common goal: to provide training for your dog so it will behave the way you want it to. Bird Show all Bird Clicker Crate training Collar Harness Training Housebreaking Obedience Puppy Rescue Socialization Wait Rider Apparel jumps up SERVICES Training Shelters Free dog training tips Lost your password? 2.3 Post WWII Taylored Dog Training is just that! We provide a tailored program for you and your dog to build basic manners, tackle those tricky behaviors, and plan for a long and happy human-dog relationship. Taylored Dog Training uses best practice and scientifically proven, reward-based training techniques to help all dog owners to enjoy fulfilled and enriched lives with their dogs. Dogs are also trained for special purposes such as CGC Certification; for dog sports, including but not limited to competition obedience, dog agility, herding, tracking, and flyball; and to undertake particular roles such as detection dogs, assistance dogs, hunting dogs, police dogs, SAR (search and rescue dogs) or guard dogs.

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Positive Intelligence

Picked up a book.. Montana was reading at work yesterday + I really mean reading, like ignoring her tables kind of reading.  I was inspired, I haven't read a book all year, its September!!!  Social media has been a large source of stagnation for me and 3 hours of scrolling this morning made me curse myself for not doing what I know I should .. paying more attention to my life than other’s.  Out of guilt, I decided to read and really just picked the book on the top of the stack lol.

Positive Intelligence By: Shirzad Chamine

Chapter One:

Initially bored out my wits with the intro and most of the first chapter, I forced myself to keep going.  Decided to journal (that’s what Tumblr is for me versus a blogging community) my interpretation of each chapter.  As I neared the end of chapter one, im intrigued by the comparison of IQ (cognitive intelligence), EQ (emotional intelligence) and PQ (positive intelligence).  I recognized IQ from school and equating it with how dumb a person is lol.  I've heard of EQ but only in reference to the way people behave when they are hurt.  To be completely honest I feel I should be reading a book on EQ but here we are PQ.  PQ, as described by Shirzad, is a measurement of your mind working both for you and against you.  My interest peaked!! I know for sure for sure my PQ is low because I am a very worrisome person who believes “all good things come to an end” versus thinking “bad times don’t last always.  At the end of the chapter there is an inquiry to help me correlate what the book is saying and how it applies to my own life.  

Chapter One inquiry:  if you could significantly improve one important thing, personally or professionally, as a result of reading this book, what would it be?  Keep that goal in mind as you read this book.  ||  Personally I believe I am a quitter by way of procrastination.  I personally and professionally need to learn how to follow through.  I convince myself over a period of time that “this won't work for me" or “I'll never be _____ or as good as ________” and completely just stop.  I want my self talk to be encouraging and motivating.  I let any little butmp in the road cause me to pull over.. toxic trait!  This has to change!

Chapter two:

Good luck prying this book from my hands.  Needless to say, I am happy I continued reading.  This chapter helps me to understand how we have two ways of thinking, sabotage + sage.  Sabotage we develop as children to prevent physical and emotional harm which we should rid by adulthood.. Sage the power, positive, deeper, wiser you.  The chapter identifies 10 sabotagers to help you understand which one(s) control you.  This chapter goes on to tell you how to change your mind from sabotage to sage and provides an example of a man and his team who all learned to do this together to increase the success of a billion dollar company.  The methods seem wacky but you have to be a fool to believe I won't try.  Won’t go into much depth (buy the book) but Shirzad goes on to say the easiest way to change your mind is to label each thought;  useful, neutral or harmful and the to call out the sabotager.  For example:  Thought “your are not good enough” I respond by thinking or saying (I'll be saying it out loud personally) “there goes the Judge telling me im not good enough”.  The Judge is one of the 10 sabotagers.  This is vital for me because so much of how I think is a shit ton of underlying factors I don't know exist.  Reading is fundamental because I would have never recognized the voice of the Judge as being harmful.  I always believed that telling myself im not good enough would force to me to work harder but the truth is, I coerced myself, over the years to believe im mediocre, average at best!  This is ground breaking for me + I want to personally challenge myself to do this all day today before moving on the next chapter.  Labeling my thoughts is genius, this is so cohesive with my personal goal of being more mindful.

Chapter two inquiry:  what do you find energizing, hopeful or exciting about Positive Intelligence?  What are you skeptical about?  How would you know if you skepticism were generated by a saboteur trying to stay in power?  ||  I know how vital changing your mind is to growth, maturity and overall personal development.  I’ve experienced this in a very mild manner with regards to perspective and was blown away.  It’s really a gift from God + an outer body experience to see your old self succumb to a new you by way of thinking differently + being present in the mind the surrender to the process.  So in short I am excited, hopeful and energized that I don't have to wing it.. this book provides the formula, the methods and evokes the mental awareness for me to experience my mind changing and completely being one with the me I can't see.. all that inner shit!  Im skeptical about my consistency cause it’s always been an issue for me but even writing this allows me to see the saboteur  named Restless (the sabotager who is always lookin for new excitement, losing focus + providing endless distraction)  Ha!  I get it, I get it!!!!  I called her out!!! 

Chapter three:

This chapter, unadulterated perspective.  Allow me to document the four major part of this book that hit home for me.  1. There is a subtitled portion in chapter three labeled The Problem With Saboteurs.  In order to survive we needed umbilical cords at birth, milk as babies, itty bitty teeth until our mouths grow develop the permanent ones, even casts for broken bones.  However, as we matured, all of these grew obsolete and we rid ourselves of them naturally.  Can you image if we didn't, lmaoooo.  Its funny to picture it in my head but our minds develop in the same way EXCEPT, they do not naturally rid themselves as we age!!!  Mentally and emotionally, a shit ton of us don't realize we’re  still attached to the umbilical cord, drinking baby milk, using toddler teeth and have never taken the cast off of healed injuries... in our late 30′s and 40′s!!!!!  Bruh, this made me feel pitiful because im not exempt!  The thinking patterns and emotional behaviors necessary for me to survive my childhood are the same ridiculous techniques I use in my adulthood.  The saying “..but when I became a man, I put all those childish things away.” pops smooth into my head!!! 2. The book compares people to hatched sea turtles.  The very first thing they do is make there way to the ocean floor for safety, physical survival.  We do this as kids as also, but we do it both physically and MENTALLY!  Mind blown comprehending this.  3.  The book describes our saboteurs as a snowman to say they melt when exposed to light.  This insinuates that all it takes to chance your negative thoughts is awareness.  All I have to do is recognize the thought and label is using one of the 10 saboteurs described in the book.  Im so excited for this!!!  

Chapter three inquiry:  a saboteur served a purpose - to protect you physically or helped you survive emotionally.  How did you Judge and your top accomplice saboteur help you in your youth?  ||  I've used my judge to shield myself from an abusive parent for emotional survival.  I won't go too much into the details (I'll leave it for another time).  Promise to update this after some deep thinking.  I’ve blacked out much of my trauma and early life as to cope better and progress forward.  I knew at some point in my life I would have to dig up my past but I definitely believed it would have been with a shrink versus a book.  I’ll see what I can do.  I am journaling this to help someone else and myself, but as of right now.. im not ready to relive most of what I know I have to share. 

Chapter four:

Decided to walk and read this chapter but due the heat index, said walk took place on the treadmill in the basement of my building.  Thank goodness it was empty because this chapter made me cry, twice.  Touching a bit on self judgement, judging others and judging circumstances.  The writer exposes a part of me I have never truly acknowledged.  I don’t always love myself unless there is a reason attached to it such as accomplishment, awesome behavior, etc.  It was difficult to read that I am to love myself just for being!  Just because I am me; undefined by flaws or accomplishment, good behavior or social rank.  Unconditional love is the only love there is, love without conditions for being exactly who I am.  My brain is warped but im hopeful it will bring about an abundance of change to the way I treat myself when undergoing difficulty.  I also decided a name for my Judge, she’s The Liar.  My Liar is stong and brutal and means me no good.  My liar is NOT me.  There is a portion of this chapter that is vital to my life, well two!!!  The first is so powerful, I am tearing up just thinking about it.. “You will be happen when...”  My Liar is the biggest scammer ever.  I AM HAPPY NOW!  Damn it if my Liar doesn’t tell me, “you can be happy when your business is successful, when you move into a penthouse, when you’re married...” Shirzad writes that my Liar will always renegoitate my when as I achieve it.  I will be happy when I save $10k and as soon as I have $9,999 dollars all of a sudden, I will be happen when I purchase a home.  Man if this didn't strike a cord.  I will be chasing happiness my entire life living in misery with a life someone else is when’ing for!  Who cut the onion bro? The second very vital part of the chapter is when the writer analyzes the difference between judging and discernment.  This will need to be revisited as I attempt to weaken my saboteurs because it’s a thin line between judging and discerning.

Chapter four inquiry:  what would change, at work or in your personal life, if your Judge’s voice were significantly weakened?  ||  OPTIMISM for sure!!!! I would be less apprehensive about tough decisions. I’d be more eager to try new things and hopeful for every circumstance I have to undergo.  I shelter myself from many things because I am so afraid to fail or have an unfavorable outcome.  I be ducking “feelings” and can vividly hear myself telling myself in previous situations that “I don't want to feel anything”, “I don't feel like it”.  That is for the dead and I realized I am the dead walking!  Life is to be felt I just need to get to a place where fear isn’t holding me hostage and realize I can survive whatever I feel.  Writing this provoked a question I posed to myself, why don’t you want to feel? I hold onto the shit im supposed to let go and the emotional warfare makes it so difficult to learn what the feeling is there to teach me.  I am super dramatic and I can see how the Victim is actively assisting my Liar.  I’d be able to keep a job, lol.. yeah issa a problem.  On a personal level, I believe I'd be more aware of what the universe is trying to teach and can significantly alter the energy I put out.  God has me in awe, this book wasn’t random.  The timing was’t random.  I am ready and the unconditional love God has for me, has once again reminded me that I am entitled to love, just because I am me.  Chills bro.

Chapter five:

This chapter compares the Saboteur to the Sage.  It goes on to discuss example of when both he and others where faced with what seemed to be extreme tragedy or life altering situations with sage.  In my opinion is summarizes how to constantly look on the bright side.  An part of this stated that when something unfavorable happens, we tend to believe the outcome “good or bad” and reassures which every you believe in your mind will ultimately solidify the situation according to your beliefs about it.  This sent me into deep thought.. I reflected back to when a “bad” situation turned out for my greater good.  This has happened countless time but the most prevalent was my living situation in the previous two years.  I went from paying nothing and getting kicked out without notice, to an invite as a roomie for $200 but was tortured in that situation.  I moved into a unit (work, live, stay) for $500 but now shower only bird baths for 3 months to now renting a condo for $1000.  I had to initially but put out on my ass for this ball to get rolling.  I would have never voluntarily moved from paying no rent to $1000.  I’d built up so much resentment towards the homeowner and carried it all the way to this chapter and because learning about the sage, which works for my greater good, I can let it go.  I had not realized and still don’t, how much unnecessary baggage I carry that affects only me.  You better trust and believe the day I moved out, angry and hateful, that the homeowner went to work and carried on with his life, not giving a single fuck about how I felt.  This book is doing a great work in me, turning my thoughts and beliefs in to learning opportunities.  Now be fully aware of how both the saboteurs and my sage works, I plan to revisit all my buried bullshit to evaluate how what I thought to be “bad” turned out for my good.  A positive poised mind.  Healthy thought processes.  Meditation.  Acceptance.  Change.  My liar keeps telling me, this process (saboteur to sage) will take a long time to do.. it’s imperative I remind myself to stay committed to implenting what im learning and do the work.  My entire life I have boxed the outcomes of situations either bad or good depending of the favorability of them.  What the fuck can I loose by looking at everything as a outlet for opportunity and personal development.  I cannot put my gratitude into words.  Im in utter awe that I have carried this book around for at least 3 years, from boxes to storage units, to book piles to my finger and it is life.  Im so in love with the possibility of me changing sooner than later and orchestrating my own mental health.  I will do the work!

Chapter five inquiry:  pick one thing in your life, whether at work or at home, that’s causing you particularly high distress right now.  Try the Three-Gift technique on it:  think of at least three ways the problem could turn into a gift and opportunity at some point in the future.

In fear of my living situation since I moved to Atlanta, homelessness scared the living day lights out of me.  I took off an entire month in July this year to go home to be with Zette (I missed him) and found it super difficult to find a job as quickly as I usually do, normally a week tops.  I took until the end of August to land a position and the money is shit.  I have a pretty ok savings account that I vowed not to touch until I were purchasing property.  So im stuck with 2 months of unpaid rent which is threatening to make me withdrawal money from my “house account”.  As this month closes in on me, I have been losing sleep about it, also afraid to burden my guy (whom I know has a lot on his plate) with my tab.  1. Gift One - forces me to work harder at growing my business to create real income so that working for someone else becomes the supplement versus my primary source of income.  2.  Use my sage gifts to to work on my reoccurring panic attacks, this is a fine opportunity to put to use all that I've learned in this book.  In doing this I can train myself on a small scale how to increase my PQ.  Weaken my liar who tells me if I spend my saved money I'll never get it back, allowing me to believe in myself, the power of my sage and open my eyes to very thing that got me in this condo.. hard work, resilience and the ability to go forward despite what may lie ahead.  3.  Prepare better in the future financially for trips, vacations or any unexpected event that may cause me unemployment.  

Chapter six:

This chapter describes each sage power (there are 5), what inhibit them, when to use them, and provides a game to play when is time to use them.  Some of these I understood 100% while others left me scratching my head.  At the end of the chapter, it provides an example through scenarios where one person had to utilize all of them individually in order to keep her job.  This caused even more confusion for me but I will keep at at it and reread the entire book if I need to, seriously.

Chapter six inquiry:  what is one area of your work or life where could use some fresh and creative new perspective?  Play the “yes.. and...” game by writing idea after idea nonstop for ten minutes without any evaluation along the way.

How to build clientele:

Flyers on in public areas, offering a free return services, consistency on social media posts, do a live tutorials or classes for a limited time, offering a discount to the people in my building, reaching out to a mentor to work under as an understudy, advertise to low income students at all the colleges around town, hash tagging colleges with my services, strengthen my brand, make booking easier and automatic, specials for new clients and returning clients, ads on google, facebook and craigslist, offering specials to the businesses surround me, take better pictures, get a logo, offer classes every month, promote the classes same as I do the service, offer lash classes on craigslist  or google, retain a celeb for services, lash for free at least once per week, create a way to brand, practice is more important than the money right now, learn differnt lashes styles and how to execute them, get more consistent sets, lash once per day even on the mannequin, offer out of state client special or last minute deals,  offer to lash as a donation to the community, offer free lash specials for prom season, graduation and courthouse marriages, talk about your business at least once per day, learn hygiene, maintenance, and sanitation thoroughly, educate clients, brand your shampoo and lash bags with embroidery machine, get a logo, learn new ways to keep professionalism at its peak, get, learn and implement better customer service skills, make your lash bed feel like a hotel California king, get classic lashing service time under 120 minutes, do traveling lash services like a feature lash tech in other peoples salons, offer traveling lash services per day or week to new nailery’s, hair salons and men, advertise during pride in midtown, let clients know you service men, study tutorials on youtube and practice more, diversify your clientele, add and learn more lash and brow services, offer and brand supplies to student, advertise lash classes to your clients, they may want to invest in themselves, get or create a uniform for yourself, open a parlor to teach/train and rent out stations... 11 minutes!!!

Chapter seven:

This is the chapter I’ve been waitin for!!!  This chapter taught me how to switch from my survivor brain to my sage brain in tens seconds.  This is necessary and the timing of this chapter was flawless.  I went out last night for Monday night football, got a little too drunk, relapsed on my old ways of being and lashed out on my guy for no reason of his own.  I was angry, woke up angry, refused to settle my mind, or label my saboteurs.  Tense all day, pinned up energy for no reason.. shit I didn’t even want to read the book today!!  It got real for real, then this chapter a physical way to switch my mind from inner turmoil to physical appreciation.  The book suggests I do this 100 times per day, 21 days in a row to rewire the way my brain sorts information.  I will do this!  I can do this.  I deserve this.

Chapter seven inquiry:  are you willing to promis yourself that you’ll do a hundred PQ reps every dat?  If so, what might your saboteurs try to tell you in the coming dats to talk you out of it?  ||  I am all in!  My outlook on “problems” is definitely more inviting as I eagerly look forward to changing my mind.  You just cannot measure where you are without the test.  My saboteurs will attempt to convince me 21 days is too long or that when I do a PQ workout I may not be able to hush the noise.  Either way im doing this for the full 21 days.  I know somedays I will not remember to get my points but I will commit a workout to each day im lacking to rack up points.