#that's 158 names written

[silverwhittlingknife]

Good morning. I'm fairly new to batfamily comics and I was wondering if you know what the design inspirations for the nightwing black and blue suit are? Is it mentioned in the comics? I live in New Zealand and all the robins here are all black, except the south island robin which has a splash of white on its chest. To me the nightwing suit looks very reminiscent of New Zealand robins, though I'm sure that's just familiarity bias.

GOOD MORNING!!! I had no idea there were blue robins!! That is extremely cool & these birds are my friends now <333 There are (tragically) no blue robins in comics AFAIK, but the Nightwing costume design is still fun to trace...

The Nightwing Costume: A History

Nightwing I, Nightwing II, and a 1980s punk rocker.

Short version: The Nightwing black+blue+yellow costume is something Clark Kent wears in 1960s Superman comics, where the colors are inspired by Batman's costume - both in-universe and out-of-universe. So when Dick originally takes on the costume, it's an homage to both Batman and Superman. <3 The exact history gets tweaked a few times, but those basic vibes are usually consistent.

Long version: IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO HEAR SO MUCH MORE THAN YOU WANTED TO KNOW re:a bunch of Doylist comics history followed by the various Watsonian explanations for Dick's costume choices, I have rambled about this below the cut in three parts:

1960s and 70s: Nightwing I: Superman and Jimmy Olsen, the Dynamic Duo of Kandor!!

1980s and Onward: Nightwing II: Dick Grayson's New Teen Titans & Gen X Influences

In-Universe Explanations for Dick's Costume: A History

1960s + 70s: The DYNAMIC DUO OF KANDOR

Superman 158: The first appearance of Nightwing I!

Nightwing I - he's actually just Superman in another costume - was created for adventures in the Bottled City of Kandor! Kandor was invented in 1958 by Action Comics writer Otto Binder; it was a Kryptonian city shrunk by Braniac and kept as a trophy. Clark rescued the bottled city from him, kept it in the Fortress of Solitude, and sometimes used a shrink ray to shrink himself down to visit the city. (This was the 50s and 60s! Goofy sci-fi was in!) Kandor was a great setting for Superman stories because Clark could interact with a Kryptonian city without time travel. Plus, since Kandor had a miniature red sun, Clark could have adventures there where he didn't have powers.

In 1963, Superman writer Edmond Hamilton got the idea of having Superman and Jimmy Olson go undercover in Kandor. They have to come up with superhero disguises -- so naturally, Clark "takes a cue from his old friends Batman and Robin, and he and Jimmy Olsen become - The DYNAMIC DUO OF KANDOR!"

Nightwing and Flamebird's names got linked to newly-invented Kryptonian birds (you can see the birds in the cages behind them) - therefore paralleling Batman and Robin, inspired by Earth's bats and robins!

Readers loved Clark and Jimmy's buddy-movie adventures as Nightwing and Flamebird, and the story conceit stuck around for quite a while. If you're curious, you can read a bit more about the stories here! I like them; they're goofy but adorable.

Kandor eventually got written out in 1979, when a writer who was bored with it "fixed" the city and had Clark find a way to make all the people normal size. No more adventures for Clark and Jimmy...

This meant that the Nightwing name was up for grabs.

1980s: The NEW TEEN TITANS & Gen X Influences

In 1984 - five years after Kandor, Nightwing, and Flamebird had gotten written out of Superman comics - Marv Wolfman and George Pérez wanted to give Dick a new name and costume in Tales of the Teen Titans 44. They landed on Nightwing. It was a perfect legacy identity, representing an homage to both of Dick's role models: an identity that was used by Superman, but modeled after Batman.

Although the name stayed the same, the costume changed quite a bit! The design changes are IMO revealing both of the era in general and of some characterization choices Wolfman and Pérez were making for Dick.

Pérez - the artist, and therefore the guy who redesigned the Nightwing costume - gave a 1987 interview where he said this about Dick:

Robin/Nightwing, I like him a lot because of his history, he’s been around so long, and there’s a certain sleek sexuality about the character. He’s got a certain sense of everyman, a young swashbuckler type...

IMO you can see those elements in Pérez's design - it's got vaguely piratical/swashbuckler vibes, and my extensive research (...okay, this article on 80s fashion trends) suggests that this very silly-looking Halloween costume may indeed be riffing on edgy sex symbols of the 1980s.

And both those choices are in keeping with the vibe of New Teen Titans, an aggressively not-kid-appropriate comic that was trying to do a more mature / edgy / adult take on superheroes.

What does that mean, "more mature"? Partly, it just meant, uh, sex. Dick and Kory were actually the first DC couple to ever be implied to be having premarital sex (in NTT 28 in 1983, where they're shown in bed together); in earlier eras, this would've been forbidden by the Comic Code Authority, which banned "illicit sex," sympathetic criminals, and a bunch of other things.

But it's not just about sex. In the 80s, comic readers were getting older and more impatient with moralizing in general; wholesome role models were out and sex, drugs, and rock-and-roll were in. Wolfman and Pérez were reinventing Dick as an aged-up, angsty, angry young man who was part of a more soap opera-esque team, with characters sleeping with each other and getting jealous and getting married and fighting with each other and generally making a lot of understandable-but-edgier decisions.

The switch to the Nightwing costume, a few years in, aesthetically mirrors Dick's shift in characterization from preppy good kid to angsty rebel:

Nightwing II, or, "What would happen if you took Superman-pretending-be-Batman and stuck him in a blender with Billy Idol?"

Pérez started with the blue-and-yellow color scheme of the original Nightwing - which is just copying Batman, right down to the utility/antigravity belt. But for Dick, Pérez tweaked it to add 1980s fashion details that were Hip With The Edgy Youth, like a deep V-neck showing the chest, bling-y accents, and big flaps for the shirt collar.

(Billy Idol had become a huge success in 1983, the year before Dick became Nightwing; the punk rocker was a college dropout and fashion icon for Gen X's edgy young men ... Look, I'm not saying he's a direct inspiration for Dick's costume, I'm just saying!! Similarities, no?? The other obvious point-of-reference is 70s disco - thus the fan nickname "disco-wing" - which had been popularized by John Travolta, another celebrity dropout.)

You can see a parallel shift in Dick's relationship to education - in the 1970s, he was basically a Good Role Model And Responsible College Student at Hudson University, where AFAIK he stayed in his first semester of college for about a decade. By contrast, in 1980, the first issue of New Teen Titans kicks off with Dick having dropped out of college and having tensions with Bruce about it - not a stereotypical "good kid" choice.

Dick in New Teen Titans 1, looking... a little bit dopey, let's face it; he may be a cool & edgy college dropout now but his motorcycle kinda looks like it belongs to a middle-schooler

By NTT 34 in 1987, Dick's costume had gotten more dramatic and his motorcycle had gotten significantly cooler-looking:

Over time, the Nightwing costume got tweaked in various ways to get more sedate and to add a more birdlike V-shape to the chest, but that's the Nightwing origin story!

Okay, so that's out-of-universe. But what about IN-UNIVERSE EXPLANATIONS for Dick's costume?

WHAT A GOOD QUESTION. There are three you can choose from!

FIRST OFF, in the original 1984 story, Dick says he got the idea from a costume Clark wore - a reference to Clark and Jimmy's adventures in Kandor.

BUT THEN, in the post-Crisis reboot, the Bottled City of Kandor got deleted from continuity for a while, along with Clark and Jimmy's history of being Nightwing and Flamebird. (Crisis on Infinite Earths was a late-1980s event that merged DC's Earth-One and Earth-Two, retconned a lot of backstories, erased a lot of goofier story elements, and tried to create a more streamlined DCU. Fans usually call the comics that were published after this event "post-Crisis comics," because "thecomicsthatwerepublishedpost-CrisisonInfiniteEarths" can't be said five times fast.)

With Kandor gone, the name's origin had to be tweaked a bit. In post-Crisis, Dick still gets the name idea from Superman, but it's from a Kryptonian legend that Clark knows, as opposed to a costume Clark wore.

And then in Nightwing: Year One, a retcon/retelling midway through post-Crisis, Dixon tweaks things a bit further, so that instead of the Robin costume being an homage to the Graysons' costumes (a Wolfman retcon in LPoD), it's instead the Nightwing costume which is an homage to the Graysons' costumes, and it's deliberately modeled after something John Grayson wore.

... So in-universe, the possible explanations are basically:

Pre-Crisis: Dick got both the name and the costume design from Superman, who came up with them in order to imitate Batman, OR

Post-Crisis: Dick got the name from Superman, and Dick came up with the costume on his own - probably still deliberately imitating Batman's color choices, OR

Post-Crisis: Dick got the name from Superman and the design from John Grayson's acrobat costume.

(The post-Crisis period ended in 2011 with Flashpoint, so for a while people called post-2011 comics "post-Flashpoint," but nowadays it's usually divided into DC's branded eras: new 52, Rebirth, and Infinite Frontier. I don't think those eras have any significant retcons to Dick's costume origin, but I'm not 100% sure.)

ALL THAT SAID, I love the idea of "it's Robin, but blue," so thank you; that's adorable and it's gonna live in my heart forever now <333

[gghostwriter]

Entangled Strings of Fate

Chapter 0. Fate (in all its theory)

Spencer Reid x FOC

Summary: Caltech, Pasadena - Cleo considers herself a woman of logic. With an IQ of 158 and an eidetic memory, how could she not. But meeting Spencer, the boy genius to hers, had her believing in intangible theories like the invisible string and the fates. Now, if only he would notice the depth of her feelings. Set in Caltech, pre-season 1 and will progress from there.

series masterlist || next chapter

“It is a singular fact that many men of action incline to the theory of fatalism, while the greater part of men of thought believe in divine providence” - Honoré de Balzac

There were occasions, particularly padding across her desolate home, when Cleo Murphy would try to understand where her entangled fate with Spencer Reid all began. Moments engrained in her eidetic memory, playing inside her head like a show rerun she can’t escape from. Maybe this was all pre-destined in the stars or written in some scroll now lost to the sea. Or maybe this was all a series of happenstance, no matter how she believes it to not to be.

Her working theory was easy to explain. That every outcome was pre-destined but it was the choices made that decide when those outcomes will come and it is those same choices that decide how everything ends—with a final goodbye when death comes to take what he is due under labored breaths or with a final goodbye under the darkened sky and a flickering, dying porch light. One of those endings, goodbyes, have been spoken out to the universe and maybe it was tempting fate to retrace her steps for the other goodbye not spoken. 

She was named after Clio, the Greek Muse of History. Perhaps that was where her near-perfect memory came from. A curse or a blessing, depending on who she asks. The Muse of History was also generally depicted to attend political relations between nations and men. And perhaps that was also where her attraction for the law and the administration of government came from. An attraction to the government that manifested itself through Spencer—a highly thought of individual working for the FBI. The Muse was also punished by the goddess Aphrodite to fall in love with a single man. And she herself was not spared, not even in modern setting. 

Did it all begun when she uttered the line ‘I’d like to work for the law when I grow up’ during her 5th birthday party? Did it begun when she chose to attend Caltech instead of Harvard for an undergraduate degree in Political Science? Did it begun when she approached the Bambi eyed stranger in the library for the last copy available of a pre-requisite read for one of her classes? Or perhaps it was just all of the above and she was damned to fall utterly and ridiculously in love with her best friend. 

A platonic relationship that was at limbo. After all, they haven’t even spoken for almost a year. Their last moment was filled with fighting words, mainly his, that she couldn’t un-absorb and pleas, mainly hers, that wish to break the hold his choice of poison in the shape of a needle had on him. Ending with a slam of a door and an unheard sob of goodbye, Cleo doesn’t know where to start untangling her string of fate from Spencer’s. So she pushed the mess of history in the deep recesses of her brain, locked in a vault, out of sight but never forgotten. And she was okay with that. Or she thought she was okay with that, until that fateful second chance encounter at the coffee shop down the street.

Coffee spilt on the floor and patrons weaving all around, unaware of the workings of fate to bring two tortured souls back together. 

“Cleo,” Spencer whispered her name almost reverently. 

And just like that, the vault that houses their entangled fate was unlocked and all she could ever do was watch as fate brought her back to the man who once and possibly still holds her mind, body, and soul.

[deweydecimalduck]

Thanks @0sharisa0 for tagging me!

Are you named after someone?

No, my mom just liked the name and that’s how I came to be called Agnieszka.

When was the last time you cried?

Today when I, for some reason, accidentally kicked a chair and writhed in agony, crying.

Do you have kids?

I do not.

What sports do you play/have you played?

Volleyball because that’s pretty much all you do during PE lessons in Polish schools. I also did climbing for a year or so, but I had to give it up because I didn’t have time for it. I might come back to it someday, who knows.

Do you use sarcasm?

I try to refrain from using sarcasm when I am with people that either don’t get it or find it rude, but in general I usually do.

What is the first thing you notice about people?

Maybe the sound of their voice? I don’t know.

What's your eye color?

Green

Scary movies or happy endings?

Happy endings! But I also do not mind not-happy endings!

Any talents?

I can edit videos, learn languages, draw, and I’m also said to have pretty handwriting.

Where were you born?

In Małopolska, Poland.

What are your hobbies?

Reading books (especially 19th century novels, fantasy, and history books), making DuckTales music videos, drawing, playing the piano (albeit terribly), writing (said she who has not written a single thing in six years), watching cartoons and musicals.

Do you have any pets?

No, currently not, but I used to have a cat!

How tall are you?

158 cm

Hold on, let me convert that to feet.

There you go!

Favorite subject in school?

Math, English (as a foreign language), German (as a foreign language as well), and history. And when it comes to the subjects I currently have at university, then probably all those that are connected with history.

Dream job?

I would probably like to work as a translator and/or a tour-guide.

Tag 15 friends

I don’t think I have that many friends, but I will tag people that I find cool and that I would like to be friends with!

@georgiarose @writebackatya @hueberryshortcake @justaboot @godfrey-the-chaos-duck @queer-in-a-cornfield @gyroinabirdcage @glomscrooge @boingodigitalart

[uniquevoidflowers]

ROYAL LINK AU UPDATE? Yeah :D

The names you'll hear for the Kokiri are generated names from this generator:

Word count: 4299 (it would've been longer but I wanted the ending to be sort of a cliffhanger >:))

TW: Injury (and there's a description of Legend like, coughing for a while and a memory of being deathly sick as a child idk)

“How do I even find the rest of the heroes?” Legend asked, sitting at the desk in his room with furrowed brows.

“I suggest looking through the ancient texts; they may be of use,” Fi suggested.

“You don’t know?”

“Correct. Though I have more knowledge than others, it will never be enough to fully understand every step along this path that the Goddesses entrust to us, especially when they are vague with us. Follow me to the library, there’s a section that holds the royal texts. Search for any books speaking of heroes.”

Legend obliged, going to the library and letting Fi lead him to a section, hidden behind a row of bookshelves. Once Fi pulled a lever, it revealed a large section of more bookshelves but they were dusty and the books looked older. Fi held it open, nodding to the books and Legend stepped closer, pulling one out of its spot on the shelf. Dust filled his nostrils and he coughed, wiping away the remaining on the book. The book itself had a forest green colour, and the title was fading, but it read, A Guide To The Lost Woods.

Though it seemed interesting it said nothing about heroes so he slid it back into the shelf. He searched through various titles, each intriguing him and he vowed to come back once this was all finished and read them. Eventually, he pulled out a title that read, The Heroes of Hyrule.

Brightening, he flipped to the first page and saw a table of contents.

Introduction Page 1

Hero of Time Page 16

Hero of Legend Page 39

Hero of the Skies Page 45

Hero of Winds Page 56

Hero of Warriors Page 69

Hero of Hyrule Page 80

Hero of the Four Sword (See separate in Additional Notes) Page 90

Hero of the Wilds Page 101

Hero of Twilight Page 119

Hero of Spirits Page 134

Additional Notes Page 143

What they fought against Page 150

Conclusion Page 158

These titles sounded familiar. His name, his friends names, even his Dad’s name sounded like the titles of the heroes listed. He began to read, taking in the information that poured out of text on pages, words coming to life in his mind.

He was able to imagine The Hero of Time, a one-eyed terror, wielding a heavy sword with both his hands and a royal blue ocarina on his belt.

He was able to imagine the Hero of Legend, his endless arsenal and experience as his tools, and his eyes a piercing violet.

He was able to imagine the Hero of the Skies, white sailcloth draped against his back, and a fabled divine sword glowing valiantly in his hands, and his expression written with the fury and wrath that would terrify any living being.

The Hero of Winds, a young spirit, able to call upon the winds with a silver baton and sweep away any foe that dared to underestimate him for his size.

The Hero of Warriors, a captain, his skills to lead and strategize said to outmatch any other, a blue scarf nestled around his neck, a promise of protection.

The Hero of Hyrule, a survivalist, powerful spells at his fingertips, from fire, to healing, to even fearsome lightning, green tunic said to strike fear at the mere sight of it.

Hero of the Four Sword, his knowledge in forging led him to make grand weapons that would harm even the most shielded of enemies, and his ability to split into four warriors that wielded the same skill as him, led him to be respected by the kingdom, patterns in clothing took his adaptation of a multi-coloured tunic, said to represent his four split selves.

Hero of Wilds, wearing a blue tunic of a champion, said to be the most unpredictable, moves so wild and reckless that he took any opponent off guard, and managed to atone for a past failure, escaping death to defeat the beast that plagued his kingdom.

Hero of Twilight, a blue-eyed Divine Beast, able to take the form of a mighty wolf and take down his enemies with sharp claws and vigorous jaw, along with the brute strength by his mere fists.

Hero of Spirits, the proud descendant of the Hero of Winds, who could harness trains and tracks like no other, and play lovely instruments that allegedly brought tears to a listener’s eyes...He could also see spirits and connect with them.

He couldn’t ever imagine being like them. They all seemed so powerful and ruthless, when he couldn’t even get to his mother in time to save her from a dagger, when it took him so long to find out his destiny. “Your Highness?” Fi’s voice rang and he looked over, startled.

“Yes?”

“You seem to be conflicted. Can you recount what you have found if it is relevant to our current task?”

Oh. Right. He cleared his throat, “Yeah, sorry. Each hero either found or forged their swords, but they always had to earn them unlike I just did, so there’s no way that will be of our help. The book does say how they became heroes, but it never mentions a clear way to find them.”

“Hm,” Fi hummed, looking in thought. “We must search more, then.”

Master.

Legend jumped out of his skin at the sudden voice from earlier. Fi noticed and furrowed her eyebrows.

Do not concern yourself with the other heroes. It is up to them to hear the call of a sword. Now that you know which you are, focus on training instead until the next hero is unveiled from their slumber. Most of them are right under your gaze, Master, but that is all I am permitted to say.

How do I train?

Seek the guidance of a someone who has walked this planet for thousands, and thousands of years. Seek the guidance of a someone who was a mentor, and responsible for time unravelling and splitting before his very feet.

That’s vague, Holy Hylia.

I do not have very much I can share with you, because you must prove your worth and weave the path by your own strength. If you believe you can take on the Servants of Demise and rescue whom you have lost, you must show me you have the skill to reach such a goal.

Fine, fine.

He told Fi of what he just learned, and she nodded, taking all of it in. Her face began to darken. “I believe we should look in the country of Lost Woods. It holds legends of once immortal children and other creatures lurking there, though now it is said that they died out or lost their immortality to time but...it is our best chance.”

Legend drew in a deep breath. “Yeah, okay. I’ll send a prayer to the goddess before we leave. Fi, please tell my father what is happening.”

“Yes, Your Highness,”

Fi left and Warrior followed Legend to a Goddess Statue, kept around to pray, and honour the Goddesses. It was steeped in water, at Hylia’s request, even though the Princess of Wilds detested such a thing. The prince stepped in the frigid water anyways, stepping closer to the towering statue and knelt in it, clasping his hands together. He heard Warrior stop walking, watching adequately.

“O Goddesses of ages long past, as you have foretold, evil lurks in our kingdom and has stolen away our Queen...my mother...I have taken up my duty to act as a hero in these times and I ask that you lend us your blessing as we venture out to save her,” He murmured to the statue, hoping his words would reach beyond the skies and up to the heavens.

Silence met his ears. “Please,” He begged.

Suddenly light flashed in his eyes, a beam of light that surged down towards Warrior and Legend could no longer seem him. Panic fluttered in his heart as he rose to his feet and called for his knight. He gained no response but the bright light faded after a bit, like it had never been there in the first place. He saw Warrior look dazed momentarily, his eyes flashing with shock. “Warrior!” The prince shouted, running quickly over, worried.

“Legend, I...I think I might be one of the heroes we need.”

There was a beat of silence.

“What the fuck? What do you mean?”

“I, that light. I saw a figure in it and it spoke to me, telling me to go seek the Sword of Eras...Called me “Master””

Legend grabbed Warrior’s arm and ran, hurrying back inside the castle despite the knight’s confused protests.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The prince watched Warrior replace his old sword with the Sword of Eras, a blade that didn’t glow, but still rang true like any of the other swords.

You are losing time, Master. I advise quickly informing Fi or the King before heading on your way.

Warrior seemed to have the same idea, the two hurrying and running into Fi, telling her of what had just happened. Fi’s almost crystalline eyes flickered with something unreadable and she just told them to hurry. Hurry, they did, rushing to a boat-ride, that had been arranged for Koholint’s royals but apparently they had gone a different way. All Legend could think about was how he’d be trained, wondering if he actually could turn into someone bold and strong. Warrior was quiet the whole way along, keeping his thoughts to himself and occasionally turning his sacred blade in his hands. The sword was a valiant broadsword, hilt made from gold, and the Triforce engraved in its silver blade. The prince’s thoughts trailed to all the other heroes he might find. Would they need training as well? Most likely. If so, this would be a time-consuming endeavour, and he wasn’t sure they’d get to Sun in time.

He had to try, anyway. What kind of prince, nonetheless hero, doesn’t doing anything about it?

But he had a feeling they wouldn’t just be relying on the heroes’ strength. It was no coincidence that, Warrior found out his identity, that way, just after Legend had pleaded with the Goddesses. He had a strong feeling, that they were on his side.

The water grew ever murky as they approached the Lost Woods. It was covered in thick mist, and distant giggles echoed throughout the area. The boat stopped abruptly. “We’ve arrived, Highness.” The sailor on the boat said quietly.

With wariness, he stepped out of the boat and stepped onto land, into the creepy fog. The giggles grew loud and piercing in his ear and he suddenly felt like he was floating, his vision an endless white. When the white faded from his vision, he landed in the middle of nowhere, though his surroundings were clearly a forest. He was alone now. Whenever he tried to walk a certain direction, the mist would send him back to the same spot. “Whoever you are, I’m a friend not a foe! I wield one of the legendary swords!” He called out.

He gained no answer and he thought for a moment. He decided to try and follow the giggles, even though they sounded like they were all around him. After a bit of trial and error, he was able to walk further, and he saw a torch, lit with bright orange flames and the embers pointed a certain direction. Hopeful, he hurried towards it, knowing that the embers surely must point to the right direction. Though his legs suddenly grew weary, and the mist felt like it was burning his lungs and he couldn’t breathe. Growing suddenly very lightheaded while wheezing softly, trying to catch his breath, he extended his hand to reach the torch but his legs buckled, and he fell to the ground, with a hard thud.

He blinked slowly, trying to stay awake because he knew something was wrong but it proved to be a challenge.

“Legend?”

The voice sounded familiar, and it was soft and worried. He saw a blur of grey and yellow in front of him and he wheezed some more, trying to get air in his lungs. “Hey, hey, talk to me. What’s going on?”

Legend’s vision grew dark, before he could utter a single word in response.

~~~~~~~~~~

Waking up was always a painful endeavour after succumbing to unconsciousness. When Legend opened his eyes after rousing, light stung his eyes. His lungs burned with a fire that made him want to curl up in a ball but he felt too weak to even attempt at doing so. Breathing was a challenge in itself, each shallow breath rattling his chest. His vision spun as he was shifted, and when his vision was cleared from its bright haziness, he was able to see that he was off the ground, being carried by something. He couldn’t struggle against the arms clutching him tightly but they felt warm and trustworthy. “Wha...” He slurred, a desperate attempt at speaking but it brought an onslaught of coughing.

“Don’t speak, please,” A very familiar, firm and strong voice spoke. “Can you sign?”

Legend blinked slowly and gave a slight nod. Knightly blue eyes started at him, concerned and he relaxed considerably when he realized it was Warrior who was carrying him. He hacked and gasped for air but it escaped his lungs at every single breath. This reminded him of being incredibly sickly during his childhood.

I’ve got some flowers for you, Little Legend,” Dad smiled tiredly, and held up a vase tucked with various get-well flowers.

Legend couldn’t move, far more tired than a five year old should’ve been, but he managed a small smile at his father before he coughed miserably. Dad had tears slowly pouring down his face all of a sudden. Legend frowned, but Dad faced him, still smiling. “It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay.”

“It’ll be okay, Highness. I think we’re almost to help,” Warrior assured.

He would’ve responded if he could but all he did was try to gather air even though the mist swept it away from his lungs. Soon the dreary forest turned greener and brighter and the haunting giggles disappeared.

“Who are those people?” A whisper, small and young.

“Intruders?”

“We should go tell the man.”

Legend shuddered slightly, because that sounded a little too creepy for his liking. “Wait!” Warrior called. “My friend is hurt. We just came here for help!”

“Oh, I think it’s safe everyone,” A little boy with a leafy mask covering his face, came out.

Soon, tons of kids with different shaped masks came out, seemingly staring at him and Warrior. “I’m Hestu,” The boy informed them. “I can take you to the man, old man Deku. He’s our guardian and friend.”

“That would be nice, thank you,” Warrior answered slowly.

Hestu led them to a tree, and opened a path inside where an old man sat, sleeping on his chair. “Old man Deku?”

The old man slowly woke up and curiosity sparked in his eyes. “It has been a long time since I have been needed by the same kindred as my own. What could you possibly have need for in Korok Forest?”

“My friend needs help, sir. When we came here, I found him passed out, and he’s been coughing and weak ever since,” Warrior explained.

“Ah, the Lost Woods does not take kindly to strangers. Its power has long faded by now, but those weak or prone to illness may be caught in its wrath...”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“The Lost Woods power used to be much stronger, and anyone who stepped foor in it and inhaled the mist would fall ill, be turned into a part of the forest, or suffocate such as your friend is supposedly doing now. However, that was years and years ago. As time moved on, the strong mist faded into more of a remnant substance that can only attack those who easily fall sick. I assumed your friend here is as such.”

“...So you can help him, right?”

The old man hummed, reassuringly. “Indeed. You have got him here in time. Had you been later, perhaps he would have suffocated to death. Now, he is no longer inhaling the mist and I have potions aplenty. Its effects are immediate so though he may feel better instantly, he will also fall asleep, slumbering for a few days so that the potion can do the rest of its work. Additionally, he will need some protection if you plan to venture out again, past Korok Forest.”

They had no choice but to trust the old man Deku, so the prince drank the red liquid, provided, the taste bitter and vile on his tongue, but his lungs cleared and he stopped coughing. He heard a sigh of relief before his vision grew black and he fell into sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~

He woke up slowly, refreshed for once. He was surrounded by tree, and Warrior sat nearby, relaxed a little. With Warrior, though, he was never fully relaxed, alert as was his job. However it was a bit weird to see him relaxed enough to be without his valiant blue scarf. “Warrior?” Legend blinked.

“Oh you’re awake...Wait, you’re awake?!”

“Am I not supposed to be?” Legend joked.

Warrior rolled his eyes fondly. “I just wasn’t expecting you to be awake, since the old man told me you’d wake up at least a day later.”

“Can’t keep me down for long.”

“So, you’re feeling better?”

Legend gave a nod and got out of the makeshift bed he was in. “We should head back to the old man. He might know where we need to go next,” Warrior decided.

“And you trust him enough that he can know who we are and what we’re doing?”

“I think so. He helped us, and if he truly has evil intentions, he would’ve done something already.”

“Okay...”

Legend followed his knight out of a tree and to another one where old man Deku sat, dozing lightly. “Hello?” Warrior said hesitantly.

Deku sat up and his eyes widened slightly when he saw them. “It seems your friend is already awake. What a pleasant surprise. Now, what is it you desire? Protection for the road ahead? Directions?”

“I was hoping you’d be able to help us. We didn’t come here just to explore, but because we have a very important duty to fulfill,” Legend explained.

“Oh?”

“I am Prince Legend of the kingdom of Hyrule, and this is my knight.”

The old man looked surprised, but friendliness still lingered in his eyes. “Well now, it has been quite some time since the Royal Family has been here.”

“Has it? Then...do you know of the Servants of Demise?” Warrior asked.

“Nay, but I know of Demise, and I know that he has—or had some followers.”

“Well, these followers have kidnapped the Queen of Hyrule, and are constantly trying to kill or capture the other members of the Royal Family. It wouldn’t surprise me if they stirred up trouble elsewhere,” Legend murmured.

“The Lost Woods does not house the Master Sword if that is which you seek. The last time I ever saw it was when the Royal Family had promised to take responsibility for it, taking it away. They promised to visit but I have not seem them since.” Old man Deku shrugged one shoulder.

Legend faltered. “I sincerely apologize on behalf of those who made that promise. To make one and never keep it...”

“Oh, the heart of youth. Do not apologize, please. The company of the Korok children shall be enough for this old soul, and I slumber too often to keep constant watch for others.”

“Alright, if you insist...The Master Sword—you said—we have no need of. We came because we’re in search of someone who...” ‘Seek the guidance of a someone who has walked this planet for thousands, and thousands of years. Seek the guidance of a someone who was a mentor, and responsible for time unravelling and splitting before his very feet.’ “...who’s lived for thousands of years and is responsible for unravelling and splitting time.”

“...It might be the Hero of Time you seek.”

“But he’s dead! He’s been dead for years now!” Legend sputtered and caught Warrior’s confused demeanour beside him.

“Nay, he is immortal, taking the form of a Shade. He is only described as dead, because that was his wish, to be not forgotten, but unbothered by new duties. He resides in the Kokiri Province on the other side of the Lost Woods, with his brethren. There, you shall find him, he who has split time and walked this earth for millenniums.”

“Oh wow...” Legend muttered.

“Well do you know a way there?” Warrior asked.

“Yes, but I do not have the strength to guide you there myself, so I shall send one of my Koroks, Hestu to take my stead. Along with this I shall gift you this mask, protection from the Lost Woods as you go ahead with your journey. As long as you keep it on, you shall not worry about the mist,” The old man explained.

“Would you like it back later?” Legend hummed, taking the soft mask and looking at it with a sense of wonder.

“There is no such need. Though I expressed that I did not need the Royal Family’s company...it would be nice to have. If this is a way to allow you to visit, then keep it for the rest of your days...Now, go forth Your Highness. May the Goddesses bless you on your journey.”

“Thank you.”

The two left the old man and found the little boy Hestu, who eagerly agreed to guide them through the Lost Woods. Legend wore the mask, and stepped out of Korok Forest. The mist no longer burned his lungs and he could breathe freely. As they walked through dreary woods, Hestu chattered happily, waving his maracas and singing sometimes. For a while, it was peaceful. That was, until there was the rattle of bones, a raspy whistle, and footsteps. Through the fog, piercing red eyes appeared and a skeleton came out (a Stalfos?) and swung its sword, the blade making impact with Warrior’s Sword of Eras. Hestu cried out and hid behind the prince, while Legend unsheathed his sword warily. He had little knowledge of sword-fighting, but he’d do what he had to. More skeletons popped out of the bush and attacked with brute force, Legend doing his best to defend Hestu and himself. He looked over to see that Warrior had a bleeding leg, and earned himself a nick on the face for his moment of distraction. He swung clumsily, but fiercely and managed to somehow fend off the skeletons.

The battle continued for what seemed like forever until the last skeleton fell to the ground, it’s bones sinking back into the ground. Legend immediately rushed to help his knight, letting Warrior sling an arm around his shoulder to steady himself. “You brought stuff to clean that up and bandage it, right?” Legend asked.

Warrior didn’t answer. “Right?” Legend said a little more frantically.

“I think so,” Warrior answered and pulled out a bag, rummaging through it for a hot moment. “Yep, I have bandages.”

“Let me use the water in this flask to clean that up.”

The prince poured the semi-cold water onto the knight’s leg who visibly winced. Legend muttered a gentle apology and then tore a piece of fabric from his pant leg to clean and press on the wound. Hestu, with dark green, short hair, and a leafy mask leaned over worriedly. “Those tutors taught you well,” Warrior chuckled a bit breathily. “I should be the one doing this though.”

“Shut up. We’re friends and even if I’m a prince, I’m never going to make you treat me like a superior.”

Warrior’s face flickered with something unreadable before he just smiled and ruffled Legend’s hair, who scowled back. Eventually, Legend tied the fabric against the wound and helped his knight up. They walked at a slower pace, but the three of them continued on anyway. The way through the Lost Woods was infested with skeletons and sometimes other creatures that had somehow survived all this time, and the prince slaughtered them with the guidance of his knight who was staying back and defending Hestu. Eventually they made it to what Hestu claimed was the entrance, but it was blocked by wood carved with a symbol. Legend knocked, feeling a bit wary. After a long moment, it slid away and they were met with children clothed in green, without the leafy mask. Kokiri. “Who are you?” A girl pointed with a glare. “We don’t accept visitors here like the Koroks do.”

“We’re here for the Hero of Time,” Legend tried.

The girl’s eyebrows raised higher than he’d ever thought they could go. Hestu peered out and nodded. “Old man Deku seems to like them, and told them where you were so...”

“We’ll let you in,” The girl decided. “Old man Deku’s never wrong about these things. The Hero’s Shade—we call him—is in that treehouse right there.”

The one she gestured to was larger than the other treehouses but the style was no different. It was also closer to the ground. “Thank you...also my friend here is injured—a puncture wound in his leg. I’ve done what I could with limited supplies but...” Legend trailed off.

“Trive!” The girl yelled.

Soon a boy came over. “What do you need, Vela? I just got a cool new slingshot and I wanted to use it!”

“Yeah, well, you’re our medic. This guy has a wound on his leg.”

Trive led Warrior away who only agreed once Legend insisted, and the prince went to the treehouse to meet the Hero of Time.

[asongoficeandfirehistoryau]

Lord Vaellar Targaryen [178-102 B.C.]

The first known Targaryen Lord in written history is named Lord Vaellar Targaryen. He was Lord Aenar Targaryen’s [AKA Aenar the Exile’s] father and there is little of that history to be known. What is known of Lord Vaellar was found in a centuries old book buried deep within a pile of books in a wing of the Dragonstone Fortress that had long since been abandoned. When the wing was restored, the book found was guessed to be one of Lord Aenar’s personal journals. Since he considered himself and his kin to be the only remaining true Valyrian’s in the world after The Doom, he thought it important to keep a written record. Adding to his sense of his own importance was the fact his family were the last dragonriders in the world, so he believed their knowledge and lives should be recorded and documented for posterity.

The first full and intact record that remained of Lord Vaellar Targaryen [b. 178 B.C.] is that of his betrothal and wedding to Lady Naelarys of House Aereneos [b.176 B.C.] in 160 B.C. Aenar recorded that the match was made because while the House of Aereneos was old and powerful, they were also close to bankruptcy and, as a result, they were at risk of being publicly shamed if anyone at court were to find out how dire their finances truly were. The marriage was a desperate maneuver by Lord Aereneos to ensure that his 5 daughters, the eldest being Lady Naelarys, wouldn’t lose their status at court by ensuring a marriage alliance that was mutually beneficial for both Houses. Though the Targaryen’s were high lords, even having few of their number being dragonriders, they were not considered amongst the families of the “Great Dragon Lords of Valyria”. They were, however, one of the wealthiest families in Valyria. This marriage ensured that the Targaryen’s would get what they had been seeking for generations: entrance to the “Great Lords” club. Though they were still looked down upon for having bought their way in, thus the financial troubles of House Aereneos would remain a secret since once the two families joined, Vaellar through Naelarys would inherit his title, territories and holdings from the House of Aereneos in addition to those of House Targaryen. Though some whispered about the reasons for this unusual match*, Lord Vaellar and Lady Naelarys did not mind being matched, as they had been friends since their youth.

There is little record of Lord Vaellar Targaryen’s or Lady Naelarys personal lives or their accomplishments except for the records of their marriage, the birth of their children, and their children’s subsequent marriages and children. In 161 B.C. Vaellar and Naelarys were betrothed and in 160 B.C. they were officially married. Two years after the wedding, in 158 B.C., Lady Naelarys fell pregnant with their first child and, in an unprecedented turn of events, she claimed a dragon from one of the Targaryen’s fleet, Vinyx, which was seen to be a good omen for the pregnancy and the future of their House. Vinyx was a beautiful she-dragon with cream, gold, green and purple, iridescent scales. Vinyx had recently laid a clutch of eggs herself, leading people to suspect she had bonded with Lady Naelarys, sensing a soon to be mother. Soon after Vinyx was claimed by Naelarys, she gave birth to their first child, a son named Vimond “Fireborn” Targaryen, a healthy and robust redheaded child. In 155, she again fell pregnant giving Lord Vaellar another son, Vaenys Targaryen. In 153 B.C. Lady Naelarys finally gave birth to the daughter she had so desired, Velaenora, and again in 149 B.C. she gave birth to another daughter, Relaenna. In 145 B.C. Lady Naelarys gave birth to her 5thchild and 3rd son, Aenar Targaryen and, a little more than a year later in 144 B.C., she gave birth again to a daughter Alaeria Targaryen. Shortly after the birth 6th child, Alaeria, Lady Naelarys fell pregnant again, however, now in her 30s, the pregnancy took more of a toll on her body and she unfortunately miscarried sometime in 143 B.C. and finally in 140 B.C. she fell pregnant again for the last time. She unfortunately passed away at 36 of child bed fever after giving birth to her final son and daughter, twins, Aemor and Alaehna Targaryen, who fortunately survived the birth. Lord Vaellar was reportedly never the same after her passing and in an unusual move for a lord his age, he never remarried. However, once Lady Naelarys passed away, Lord Vaellar became the heir to both House Targaryen and House Aereneos and all their incomes and land holdings making him a “Great Lord” if not in name, then in practice.

*In the “Great Houses” of Valyria, they traditionally either had incestuous marriages or they married into another great house (usually still incestuous because of how intermarried the 14 families were, one for each of the “14 flames of Valyria”). So, Lady Naelarys’ marriage to Vaellar was considered somewhat scandalous, and there were rumors that she might have given away her maidenhood to Lord Vaellar and they were hastily married for that reason, however the rumors ceased when, after a year, they still had no children.*

[sailormoonandme]

Sailor Moon Fanfic: The Last Sailor War Saga

I wrote these fanfics last year for Sailor Moon’s 30th Anniversary. Since they have a lot to do with the Stars arc (in particular one character who is getting talked about due to Sailor Moon Cosmos) I thought I might do a little repost of the fics.

All the fics are rated T and were betaed by my good friend SinJazz

Title: Rebirth. Stars 25th Anniversary  

Summary: There is a place within the galaxy where all things are possible. It is protected by an eternal and ever vigilant guardian who knows all its secrets. But there is one secret that terrifies her. One possibility that could spell the end of all things… Manga canon. Written for the 25th Anniversary of the Stars arc.  

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/37566412  

FFN: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13853665/54/Sailor-Moon-Anniversaries-Anthology  

Words: 1421  

Category: Gen  

Fandom(s): Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon (Anime & Manga), Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon  

Relationships:

Characters: Guardian Cosmos,Chaos (Sailor Moon),Cauldron Guardian,Tsukino Usagi,Sailor Chaos  

Genre/Tags: Canon Compliant,Post-Canon,Post Sailor Stars,One Shot,Short One Shot,Rebirth,Resurrection,Death,Destruction,Apocalypse  

Title: Stripes. Stars 25th Anniversary  

Summary: As the end draws near a lonely woman weeps and loses herself in the past. Manga canon. Written for the 25th Anniversary of Sailor Stars and the 30th Anniversary of the Sailor Team. Written for Sailor Cosmos’ and ChibiChibi 25th Anniversaries and for the Sailor Team as a whole.  

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/37567813  

FFN: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13853665/56/Sailor-Moon-Anniversaries-Anthology  

Words: 3104  

Relationships: Chiba Mamoru / Tsukino Usagi, Tsukino Usagi & Sailor Senshi, Sailor Senshi & Sailor Senshi, Tsukino Usagi & Inner Senshi, Inner Senshi & Outer Senshi, Tsukino Usagi & Outer Senshi, Prince Endymion/Princess Serenity, Amazon Quartet & Tsukino Chibiusa, Chibiusa & Tsukino Usagi, Mizuno Ami & Tsukino Usagi, Hino Rei & Tsukino Usagi, Kino Makoto & Tsukino Usagi, Aino Minako & Tsukino Usagi, Tenoh Haruka & Tsukino Usagi, Kaiou Michiru & Tsukino Usagi, Meiou Setsuna & Tsukino Usagi, Chibi Chibi & Tsukino Usagi, Tomoe Hotaru & Tsukino Usagi  

Characters: Sailor Cosmos, Chibi Chibi (Sailor Moon), Chaos (Sailor Moon), Tsukino Usagi, Helios (Sailor Moon), Inner Senshi, Outer Senshi, Princess Serenity, Prince Endymion, Chiba Mamoru, Tsukino Chibiusa, Luna (Sailor Moon), Sailor Senshi, Aino Minako, Kino Makoto, Mizuno Ami, King anthem, Tenoh Haruka, Meiou Setsuna, Kaiou Michiru, Tomoe Hotaru, Amazon Quartet, CereCere (Sailor Moon), VesVes (Sailor Moon), JunJun (Sailor Moon), PallaPalla (Sailor Moon)  

Genre/Tags: Canon Compliant, One Shot, Character Death, Minor Character Death, Death, Canonical Character Death, Post-Canon, Post Sailor Stars, Sailor Moon Sailor Stars, Grief/Mourning, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Crying, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Apocalypse, End of the World  

Title: The Last Sailor War

Summary: Much of what once was has been forever lost. What little remains stands upon the brink of total annihilation as this Last Great Sailor War draws to its close. There are just two Senshi left standing as the very dimensional fabric unravels. And only one of them holds the faintest glimmer of salvation for the cosmos. Written for the 30th Anniversary of Sailor Moon.

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43586976/chapters/109593015

FFN: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13853665/158/Sailor-Moon-Anniversaries-Anthology

Words: 47,580

Fandoms: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon, Code Name: Sailor V, Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon (Anime & Manga), Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon (Musicals), Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon (Live Action TV)

Category: Gen, F/M

Relationships: Chiba Mamoru/Tsukino Usagi, Aino Minako & Tsukino Usagi, Kino Makoto & Tsukino Usagi, Furuhata Motoki/Kino Makoto, Luna & Tsukino Usagi, Tsukino Kousagi & Tsukino Usagi, Tsukino Chibiusa & Tsukino Usagi, Diana & Tsukino Chibiusa, Perle/Tsukino Chibiusa, Artemis & Neo-Queen Serenity, Neo-Queen Serenity & Tsukino Usagi, Mizuno Ami & Tsukino Usagi, Hino Rei & Tsukino Usagi, Tsukino Usagi & Inner Senshi, Prince Endymion/Princess Serenity

Characters: Tsukino Usagi, Princess Serenity, Neo-Queen Serenity, Inner Senshi, Luna (Sailor Moon), Artemis (Sailor Moon), Luna-P, Tsukino Chibiusa, Tsukino Kousagi, Diana (Sailor Moon)

Genre/Tags: Canon Compliant, Multi-Era, Crystal Tokyo Era, No Crystal Tokyo, Post-Canon, Canon - Manga, Canon - Anime, Canon - Musical, Canon - Video Game, Canon - Movie, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe, Canon - Japanese Drama, Canon - TV, Sailor Moon Crystal, Sailor Moon SuperS Movie, Post Sailor Stars, Sailor Moon Manga, Multiverse, Crossover, Action, War, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Grief/Mourning, Fights, Motherhood, Mother-Daughter Relationship, End of the World, Apocalypse End of Days, Friendship, Rivalries, Rivalry

(Art courtesy of SinJazz)

Title: The Last Sailor Senshi

Summary: The fighting is done. The war has been won…but not for Sailor Cosmos. She is, as she has been for so very long, utterly, and eternally…alone…Manga Canon. Written for the 25th Anniversary of Sailor Cosmos and the 30th Anniversary of Sailor Moon. Epilogue to ‘The Last Sailor War’

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43904884

FFN: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13853665/172/Sailor-Moon-Anniversaries-Anthology

Words: 1152

Relationships: Tsukino Usagi & Inner Senshi, Tsukino Usagi & Outer Senshi, Inner Senshi & Shitennou, Tsukino Usagi & Sailor Senshi, Tsukino Chibiusa/Tsukino Usagi, Luna & Tsukino Usagi, Chiba Mamoru/Tsukino Usagi

Characters: Sailor Cosmos, Neo-Queen Serenity, Tsukino Usagi, Princess Serenity, Luna (Sailor Moon), Inner Senshi, Artemis (Sailor Moon), Phobos (Sailor Moon), Deimos (Sailor Moon), Outer Senshi, Helios (Sailor Moon), Tsukino Chibiusa, Amazon Quartet, Diana (Sailor Moon), King Endymion, Chiba Mamoru, Prince Endymion

Genre/Tags: Canon Compliant, Short, Short One Shot, Short & Sweet, One Shot, Canon - Manga, Spiritual, Romance, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Love, Family, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Drama & Romance, Redemption, Resurrection, Happy Ending

Ao3 Collection: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2791372

[glove23]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

I WAS TAGGED BY @nooowestayandgetcaught THANK U ILY

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

- 158

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

- 325,837

3. What fandoms do you write for?

- any and all that I know/like!! I have the most fics in kinnporsche, hp, and grishaverse, but I write for a lot of different fandoms

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

- Meeting Your Maker (Literally)

Harry Potter, Time Travel AU, 64,543 words

- a colorful past

The Batman (2021), Jim Gordon/Bruce Wayne, 688 words

- Your Makers Meet (Figuratively)

Harry Potter, sequel to MYML, 30,726 words, incomplete

- I'm not leaving your side

Love in the Air (2022), Whump, 1,307 words

-no body, no crime

Kinnporsche: The Series (2022), MURDER, kinn kills vegas, 943 words

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

yeah! I try to at least, I have a huge backlog to get through whoops. I started writing in the era of ffn where like half the experience was talking back and forth in the reviews and then pm-ing and that's how I made a lot of friends that I still have today. and without that kind of comment culture and the author replying to messages, I might not have ever started writing.

someone replied to my review very kindly and asked why I didn't have any fic, my ideas were awesome (hair flip) and that made me realize oh. I don't have to Just read, I can also write the stories

and the rest is history

but fostering that kind of community, just talking to people who love the things you love, is such a fun part of the fandom experience for me and so I'll always reply to comments (eventually. I'll always get there eventually.)

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

KDHAJCHSJXJSJZ I DONT KNOW HOW TO TELL YOU THAT I HAVE A WHOLE SERIES WHERE I JUST KILL PEOPLE AND WATCH THEIR FRIENDS GRIEVE

but that being said, the answer is

into the wind (Love in the Air (2022), prapaisky, MCD/suicide

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

uhh. this one I don't actually know but imma say

love me there (His Dark Materials, lyrawill, fix-it, lyra finds will again after the events of s3)

8. Do you get hate on fics?

yeah, sometimes! 👍 don't do that

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

sometimes. not very often, it's usually M-rated if I do, but just. yeah. I don't know how to answer this

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

nope!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

yep!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

nope!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

yes, many times! back in my OG ffn days, and then a few times with @nooowestayandgetcaught

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

I'm gonna say percabeth but I don't think there Is a real answer to this question, bc I love so many of my ships So Hard that just thinking about them makes me cry

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

......I will finish every wip leave me alone (I WILL FINISH YMMF I PROMISE) work in PROGRESS and the progress may be slow but it's PROGRESS

16. What are your writing strengths?

dialogue I am so fucking good at dialogue, and character interaction. definitely my strengths

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

descriptions. I am too lazy to do them all out the way I want to and so I just kinda. skate by

except in guess I misjudged you (gods I loved you) that one is PACKED bc I spent 9 months on it so

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

mmm unless I know someone I can talk to and get accurate translations, I don't really do this bc I am so afraid of conjugating wrong and google translate is SHIT. but when I do I try my best

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Percy Jackson! in 2012 on ffn on an account that still exists but I will not give u the name of. 🥰🥰

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

as of rn (October 2023) it's

guess I misjudged you (gods i loved you)

Percy Jackson, Royalty AU, Arranged Marriage AU, 56,438 words

it is my BABY and I think one of the best things I've written tbh

#2 would be

if you don't like it (lie)

KinnPorsche, kimchay, MCD, 3,516 words

it's just so delightfully painful and it's the one I show to everyone I show kp bc I'm obsessed with it

ANYWAYS THATS ALL THANK YOU!!!! if you wanna do this feel free to say I tagged you 💞

@seaweedbraens @perseannabeth @karin848 @waitingondaisies (y'all don't have to do this. but ✨✨)

[op81s]

dont be surprised if i send u a link in the next few minutes 🫡

okay, that link might be the greatest thing i've ever seen!! let's react to it 'cause i have follow up questions but fair warning, i might have written an entire fucking essay 😂😭

now, let's start!!

romain ntamack aka rolaj

a) being so shy that you could go an entire day without talking to anyone #relatable b) what do you mean he almost blinded his brother???? c) a little bit of a hoe AND and has cute doggos?? sign me the fuck up. d) ....i'm not gonna lie.... the pornstache kind of does it for me.... 🙃

melvyn jaminet

a) telling me that most people hate him is a surefire to get me intrigued in him 'cause i'm a petty and contradictory bitch 😈 b) what do you mean the coach had to call his parents so they could help him understand mr jaminet better?? that's really sweet?? 😭 c) doesn't use social media aka has probably reached a higher plane of existence than us mere mortals who are all chronically online

baptiste couilloud aka mr booty

a) i will admit that as someone who is very close to my siblings, seeing sport blorbos have good relationship with their siblings does make me a little soft for them b) #shortking (also love that in rugby being 176cm classifies as 'short' because i'm 158 cm...) c) this man jumped into not one, but two rivers?? two seperate rivers?? whilst half naked?? i need context here?? ...and photos...

charles ollivon aka mr ollivon aka mr thighs

a) i'm sorry if i offend the entirety of france... but to me you all sound the same... but i did look up an interview with him and i do love his accent?? b) calls everyone chicken?? okay... why tho?? 😂 c) tHIS MAN IS 199CM TALL??? and his teammates goes around yeeting him into the air?? holy fuck... d) mr capitaine!! e) very large man with a soft gooey center that loves animals?? it's a good thing he has a girlfriend or i would be on my way to france right now...

martin page relo

a) ooooh bestie to mr rolaj. i love me some childhood friends who grow up and achieve their dreams of playing their sport at the highest levels b) okay but you need to stop calling these fuckers small, he's still 15 cm taller than me... c) okay but when you say he doesn't speak italian, do you mean he's not fluent or that he doesn't speak any italian?? because i feel like that would get quite lonely?? d) loves food #relatable and great cook #unrelatable...

baptiste serin

a) okay first of all, we love a private king. someone who shows up, does his job and goes home. does he have children?? literally no one knows. b) he used to facetime his cat??? okay i've found my favorite, the competition is over, everyone else can just pack up and go home. c) swears a lot you say??... again... #relatable d) smaller sports blorbos picking fights with people twice their size that their teammates then have to finish. name a more iconic sport dynamic.

louis rees-zammit aka lrz

a) okay, first of all, looks like a fuck boi but in a way that's kinda hot but he's also six years younger than me sooooo. no. b) he joined the nfl?? what, so he just up and went halfway across the globe to join the fake football league?? okay. c) ...not gonna lie... the accent... kinda hot d) ...but what do you mean he had to protect a giant lion plushie for weeks?? from what?? was someone trying to take mr plushie away from him?? e) i need picture proof of this lightning haircut 😂

antoine dupont aka sQUARE HOE?? 😂

a) awww, his teammates protecc!! b) #educatedking but for real, getting an education feels like a good idea when your day job is rugby... one of the most physical sports in the world... c) hmm... model you say?? 👀👀 d) okay, so he's one of the best rugby players in the world who also finished school and models in his spare time... so he's perfect??

matthieu jalibert (not gonna lie... read that as jailbait the first time...)

a) why is mr jalibert with his doggos getting hated on?? don't people know he has doggos and as such can't be that bad (don't quote me on that...) b) ouchhhh, getting misdiagnosed and worsening the injury is pretty much every athlete's worst dream 😐 c) ooooooh, give me the drama deets... d) what do you mean chipped off a tooth whilst rowing?? how do you chip a tooth, whilst rOWING?? don't you use your arms for that, not your teeth??

damian penaud

a) okay but getting your teeth knocked out, getting replacements but either never wearing them or sometimes wearing them but taking them out to play with them the rest of the time is SUCH a hockey player move... b) aGAIN, give me the deets on the drama. who was this reality show douchbag?? why was it such a big deal?? c) attended his team party celebrations for their grand slam victory in shorts and flip flops 'cause he jumped into a bubble bath with his suit on?? ... i love these idiots already 😂😊 d) THEY LOST THE TROPHY?? HOW DO YOU LOSE A TROPHY?? WHERE WAS IT?? HOW DID THEY FIND IT?? e) i've been told i laugh like a hybrid of a hyena and a disney villain so i feel you... f) a gamer AND a golf addict?? well... you win some, you lose some

ange capuozzo akA THE PRETTIEST BOY???

a) i don't know if it was the picture you choose but i think i'm in love... his soft brown eyes... the little swoop of his hair... b) joris is like charles' personal assistant right?? c) i'm not suprised you love him if he's a huge charles fan, like calls to like 😊😂

bonus round:

cyril baille

first of all, you weren't kidding when you said he's a huge teddy bear, i love him already. secondly, him and i are birthday twins!!

ethan dumortier

'he's smart. still can't believe it.' ....i love that being your only comment... 😂

gregory alldritt

mr alldritt didn't even get a comment... poor mr alldritt 😂

anyway, this was an absolute blast!! i will definitely be trying to memorize these fuckers!!

[boilingheart]

shadows rising — • — shaw insight

    Shaw got a lot of ‘screentime’ in Shadows Rising, and hidden away in some text we get to learn some tiny details about him, which I will now skim through the book and compile everything from insignificant to flavor text.

(Yes yes, I KNOW the book came out almost 3 years ago now. I don’t care. I love thinking about Mathias Shaw and I didn’t spend all this time hyperfixating on him and collecting very damn detail about him possible for nothing (well, i did, but))

SHAW:

isn’t at all winded after vigorously riding a horse to chase after anduin (prologue, page 4)

doesn’t beat around the bush when it comes to telling anduin whatever it is he needs to. he’s very straightforward, to the point (prologue, page 4)

grows distant at the mention of a horse groom in westfall no older than anduin named marvin. considering shaw had ties in westfall to begin with, this connection he lies about could be anything. (prologue, page 5)

“(...) the poor lad was hardly older than I was. Marvin was his name, I think.”

Shaw was still in the saddle, his expression suddenly distant. “I didn’t know him.”

But Anduin knew better, knew Shaw was holding something back.

“ “[Varian] wasn’t an easy king to serve, but there was satisfaction in the challenge. The same can’t be said for all rulers.” ” (prologue, page 6)

shaw’s shin has been broken before, and causes him pain during the storm on the bold arva (chapter 12, page 113)

Shaw tumbled to the railing, an old break in his shin screwing up tight enough to squeal. They were in for one hell of a storm.

shaw DESPISES sailing. he’d rather be in an office behind a false bookcase with plenty of desk space, it’s all the comfort he requires (chapter 12, page 113)

one way shaw receives covert messages from his spies is through a wind-up mechanical shark, made with gnome technology (chapter 12, page 117)

“ Mathias skimmed the messages quickly. They were written in a code illegible to anyone not trained in his specific style of short-hand. Efficient and cautious. ” (chapter 12, page 118)

shaw pays one agent, krazzet the bishop, in parrots to get intel from him. krazzet was a gambler in freehold, a fact shaw is begrudgingly aware of. i think we as a people, however, need to talk about the fact that he paid the goblin in parrots. (chapter 12, page 120)

shaw is very curious about the “strange and fascinating Flynn Fairwind”, and is unsure he will ever truly understand him thoroughly. he believes he probably doesn’t need to, but the desire is a constant — mostly in part of shaw’s nature to scrape away facades and see what lies beneath. (chapter 17, page 156)

shaw finds flynn’s scent of salt and soap and whiskey “intoxicating” ok i’m not gonna stop thinking about it?? (chapter 17, page 158)

says “blast” in place of “damn”, a headcanon i wrote that’s stuffed in my drafts but now that i’ve reread his dialogue i’m reminded that’s canon. nice. (chapter 17, page 161)

shaw has a knife concealed on a false bottom of his boot (chapter 17, page 163 & chapter 22, page 202)

shaw knows zandali. presumably enough to get him by, but not enough to catch words spoken too quickly (chapter 22, page 203)

“ He had once talked his way out of a headlock during a bar brawl in Dalara. That time it was a gnoll latched around his neck, and if he could reason with a gnoll, he could reason with anyone. ” (chapter 22, page 204)

shaw usually whittles bird statues to keep his hands busy (chapter 22, page 204)

shaw’s idea of a vacation included going to his small cabin in the highlands, sit in the grass, whittle, and work on his birdcalls. he describes his birdcalls as being “pretty good”, but could always be better. (chapter 22, page 204)

“ “You’re right, I shouldn’t go alone, I’m good at that, being alone. Comes natural to me. I was never all that personable— liked watching people, sure, observing, but too many and I just felt... swallowed up, like everyone could see me just fine but I couldn’t see them. I like to be above it all, perched. But I should find a friend.” ” (chapter 22, page 204)

shaw seems to be described as needing to fidget with something to keep his mind focused a couple of times (chapter 22, page 205)

• Usually, he whittled bird statues to keep his hands busy [...] • Just keep your hands and mind busy. • Then, Mathias would snap off a piece of grass and play with it, not nervously, but give himself a focus.

“Pathonia Shaw, the Silver Cutpurse”. caught three times for stealing, given the choice by the guard of stormwind to work for them or hang. she made assassinations look like accidents or robberies gone wrong, etc. taught both his mother and him. (chapter 22, page 206)

pathonia wore a grotesque amount of rings, jewels glittering on every knuckle, but on her right ring finger, only wore a tied red string. when he asked what it meant as a kid, she slapped him, so he never asked again. (chapter 22, page 206)

shaw contemplates what his life would be like if he had HIS choice. he felt a true taste of freedom aboard the Bold Arva and with flynn. (chapter 22, page 206)

shaw thinks about flynn’s scent a total of THREE. TIMES.

shaw never accepts anything at face value. when being delivered back to stormwind, he checked the ship for any traps, tricks, explosives, etc. in the four days he sailed, he was also constantly checking to make sure the prize the horde gave them was still there, as if it would somehow disappear at sea. (chapter 30, page 265)

[cdragons]

Like the Wave, She Broke; But Like the Sea, She Persevered

Chapter 2: You are my Best Friend, the Family I Chose, the Home I Found

Previous Chapter, Next Chapter

A Robb Stark X Yi Tish Reader/OC Story

Author's Note: The Reader/OC will be mentioned but not written in this chapter, but she will make an appearance in the next one. I do not own Game of Thrones or ASOIAF or any of GRRM works. But please no hate, but please comment, like, or reblog if you liked reading this story and want me to continue! Also the OC's name and her pet's name are not in Mandarin but in Romanization because the characters in this chapter are thinking in English.

Also many thanks and love to @valeskafics as my beta! Check out her work if you don't follow her already, she's amazing!

Warnings: sexual content, sexual abuse, mentions of SA and r*pe but no descriptions, violence and violent themes, depression, suicidal actions, mentions of PTSD & survivor's guilt, offensive and racist terms, GOT canonical misogyny & sexism, angst (so much angst), and dark/yandere attitudes.

Previously in “Like the Wave, She Broke; But Like the Sea, She Persevered”:

“A place where she would meet another Greyjoy, but a different Greyjoy, a better one. A Greyjoy whose blood was Ironborn, but his heart would be northern. A northern boy whose blood carried the salt of the sea, but whose heart and soul were strengthened and bathed by the snow, the trees, and the winds of northern land. A boy who she distrusted before slowly and surely becoming her found brother, and she becoming his found sister.”

Theon’s POV:

Theon Greyjoy was somewhat of an enigma to most people, and to himself if he dared to be honest. He was known as Robb Stark’s best friend and brother, but Gods Old and New help him if he forgot that he was young Lord’s, no sorry, the young King’s inferior. He was the rakish and obnoxious ward graciously taken in by the honorable Eddard Stark, late Lord of Winterfell and House Stark, Warden of the North. But the term “ward” doesn’t hide the fact that he was their captive, their hostage. A hostage who at the age of ten, was robbed from his family, his culture, his home, after witnessing hundreds of Iron Island sailors and civilians being completely annihilated, just to be plopped down in the middle of a frozen mainland where no one likes him. Ned Stark may never have beaten him, but that didn’t mean the fact that he could with full jurisdiction send Theon to the gallows with a single word, and no one would bat an eye. He was supposed to an Ironborn, except he wasn’t, not since he lived amongst mainlanders for the past decade. He wasn’t a Northerner and couldn’t be a Stark, and he certainly wasn’t an Ironborn and he despised being a Greyjoy. He wished he wasn’t one the moment he stepped foot on the mainland, since he was brought to Winterfell, since he felt the gaze Lady Catelyn Stark’s cold and righteous eyes. But by the Drowned Man, he never hated his family name so much until he knew you.

Oh gods, you. He couldn’t help the sheer pride and love in his smile thinking about you, even in his sorry state. Because despite how his body still healing from the wounds brought by the ambushed arrows, the pure elation and shock from you storming the shit-stained Frey keep with five-thousand men (if he wasn’t so fucking plastered, he would’ve cried) and saving Robb and most of their asses, with minimal losses of only 157 men 158 if you include Talisa. You had even managed to subdue both Roose Bolton and Walder Frey before dragging their asses to the prison cells, along with the rest of their traitorous kin. However, there wasn’t time to celebrate their (really your) victory as you immediately put everyone to work. For someone who worked in the shadows, you looked so natural in organizing the camp to sections reserved for healing those who survived, and preparing the burials for those whose lives were lost. After that, you rushed every lord whose mind was just lucid enough in the largest empty tent. You insisted that finding whoever assisted the Frey’s in this ordeal, as Walder Frey may have been a vile greedy cunt, he wasn’t a tactical mastermind. And while Roose Bolton was an apathetic amoral sociopath, he could never possess the imagination for something so grand scale. After countless sleepless hours, the pieces were all put together, and ice that froze every lord’s blood in learning that this was a premeditated trap engineered by one fucking Lord Tywin Lannister of Casterly Rock. The chaos and fury that followed was a sight to be memorized and passed on for years to come, any lost morale before that moment came back by a thousandfold strong. The southern snakes had really done it now, even if the plan had worked, the North would only drawback until they could strike once more. If there was one thing about the North that would always remain true, it was the fact that the North and its men never forget, especially an act as sacrilegious as what they now call the “Red Wedding”.

Every lord was shouting and screaming out blame, whether it be the execution of Lord Karstark, the release of the Kingslayer, the broken oath to the Frey’s, and on and on did they go. They didn’t stop until Lord Umber blamed on Theon for his father’s invasion to the North (despite that 1) he didn’t even know about the bloody invasion, and 2) he never left the fucking camp), and the usually mild-tempered Daiyu leapt on the table and knocked the Greatjon Umber on his great ass in retaliation. The sight of you in command will never leave him, not even when he had forgotten his own name and was too feeble to wipe his own ass. Even in your most irritable state, you dared not publicly showcase your emotions. But everything from the cold fury in your eyes to the raw determination in your spine, was enough to freeze a dragon’s fire. By reminding everyone while nothing can change the past, this event only further proves how there is no limit to the Lannister’s teachery, and that it was imperative to secure the North’s independence from the Southern leeches. You then told them of how you learned of the plan through a deal with a stranger wearing a red tunic and grey cloak, and that if they managed to survive the treachery, they were to immediately send word to Dragonstone.

“Dragonstone,” shouted out Lord after Daiyu grew bored of him and was now contently purring against Theon’s legs as he stood by you, “why in the seven hells would we send word to Dragonstone? So that we can get pissed over by Stannis Baratheon? How do we know you didn’t just make up the deal so that we could bend the knee to Stannis, or perhaps you’ve been working for the Lannister’s with the Boltons and Frey’s? Well? Answer me you chink-”.

Theon drew out his sword the second before he could finish, “You take those words back and beg for my sister’s forgiveness right now before I cut your tongue out and feed it to my falcon, you rancid shit.” Theon could allow disrespect against him, he grown used to it after all; but he would be flayed, eaten by hounds, and broken to a shell of a man before he allowed anyone to utter a word of disrespect to you, let alone that word. Each of the bannerman’s eyes shifted between the men, as most knew better than insult the mysterious spy from the far orient in the presence of the young Kraken. If Theon was not with their king, he was by his sister’s side, arm over her shoulders and her head on his, more often in silence as words were never needed in order to take comfort in one another.

And the girl was no different in her devotion to her brother, as her protection over him was as ruthless as it was creative. More than once had there been instances of soldiers throughout the camp making claims ranging from mad visions in their sleep to horses stampeding them throughout the woods to those who spoke ill of the Stark’s ward. The bannerman would have demanded their king to call for her head hadn’t her punishments been more amusing than irritating. Not that it would have worked, if there was only one thing the two young men had in common, it was the devout protection they showered the stoic spy. Even when the young king broke his oath to the Frey’s to marry his pretty foreign healer, did he remain true in his defense if anything it only grew. Such was the case with his own direwolf, who although remains steadfast in guarding his currently comatose companion, adored the Yi Tish girl far more than the now late queen if they were honest, as he was often seen being petted and fed scraps by her and even playing with her shadowcat. However, they just reasoned it was due to being acquainted with one another since the pup’s arrival at Winterfell shows what they know.

You placed a hand on your brother’s wrist, stopping any further action on his part towards Lord Umber. Theon’s eyes immediately darted down to your hand, and then looked at you. To an outsider, the act would look no different than a scolding to a child; however, those who had watched the two grow together, like one Lady Catelyn Stark, recognized the interaction to be one of the many of silent conversations between the two of you. Her eyes darting down to her late husband’s ward’s wrist, eyeing the rather poorly made charm bracelet you had gifted him for his name day so many years ago. Being a ward to one of the seven great houses, Theon was gifted many precious things, from expertly made blades to fine cloaks; but that little…thing was the item he treasured more than life itself, that and his loyal falcon, Ari. A falcon abandoned by its mother, was found by Theon and was assisted in healing the poor creature by none other than you.

A moment passed, and another had gone by, followed by a few more before Theon reluctantly lowered his arm and sheathed his sword. You turned your gaze to Greatjon once more, hand still holding on your brother’s wrist, before speaking in a loud and clear manner, “I will graciously ignore you accusing that I would ever betray House Stark, even going so far to suggest that I would ever switch loyalties to a southern house I had never cared, but may I first ask you what is the purpose of the North’s campaign to the South?”

“Pah! Aye, I can tell you, to march down to King’s Landing and swing our steel at enough of their piss-haired inbred to free the North-,” Greatjon was interrupted by the slamming of your fist to the table.

“WRONG!” You exclaimed, “Our goal from the beginning, our true purpose was to free our Lord Eddard Stark and his daughters from King’s Landing, and upon his death, we swore to avenge him and rescue his children! Have you forgotten my lords, forgotten Ned Stark, late Lord of Winterfell, the man you swore fealty to when you bent the knee to his house? Now we stand, fighting in a war, leagues from our North, miles from King’s Landing, from his daughter who he loved and cherished so dearly that he confessed to crimes he did not commit in attempt to save her from the lion’s den? Does Ned Stark stand here, does his daughter Lady Sansa? In fighting for the North’s freedom, we had forgotten our first goal, our true purpose! To avenge the blood of House Stark, to fight and protect their children! And as a result, the Gods have punished us for forgetting that purpose to the state we see ourselves in now. We have lost our greatest bargaining chip, half our men in taking Lord Karstark’s head, and now with greater losses in numbers with the betrayal from both House Frey and House Bolton. We may have regained one wolf, but such a miracle cannot be claimed by us as it had been Ser Sandor who brought her home.” Your words brought the attention of Sandor Clegane, who was standing in a corner. He was observing the scene unraveling before, in both shock that you thanked him for his act, and cursing you for bringing any attention at him at all.

“And do not ignore that another young wolf still remains at the lions’ mercy. And if Sandor’s words of her treatment hold truth, then I fear that her livelihood is at more risk than ever when word reaches the Red Keep that Tywin Lannister’s plan had failed.” Your voice grew more somber and quieter as you finished your speech. It seemed as if time had stopped, shame overtook every lord’s and lady’s face at your words, and Lady Catelyn knelt on the ground, sobs overtaking her body. The relief and joy in being reunited with her Arya, was overshadowed by the realization that still had one daughter far from her arms. Greater grief struck her in learning that her sweet Sansa had been routinely beaten and ridiculed at court by Joffery’s orders.

Ever so carefully, you knelt beside her, and gently placed your hand on her shoulder before grasping her to stand while allowing her to take comfort in your strong but gentle grip. You quickly called for a squire to fetch some cool water before handing Lady Stark a simple but clean handkerchief to wipe her tears. Such an act of familiarity to a highborn from a lowly spy would never be tolerated in normal circumstances, but no one dared to point this out, fearing that their Lady would fall apart had it not been for your support. After what seemed to have been an eternity to pass, Lady Maege Mormont of Bear Island stepped forward.

“The girl is right.” Her voice left no room for argument, “In fighting for our freedom, we had forgotten our people, our past leader, and his own blood. We lost sight of our true goal, and in doing so we allowed ourselves to be vulnerable to our enemies. Right now, Stannis Baratheon is our best hope in retrieving Ned Stark’s daughter. And we need all of the hope we can get, be it in numbers or supplies.” The next words coming out the fierce Mother Bear of House Mormont shook everyone to their core, “I can sacrifice our independence, I can bend the knee to another Southerner, but I cannot call myself a northerner if I forget my oath in avenging the Quiet Wolf, along with Jory Cassel, and the rest of the northern men that died in that rotten keep.”

“But how can expect Stannis to hope true in his word, is he even aware such a deal took place?” Lord Rysell rose from his seat, his voice filled with trepidation. “After all, was it not Stannis who killed Renly, his own brother, his very own blood? How can we expect a Southerner, nay, a KINSLAYER to hold even a weight of honor after witnessing the mutiny we all had barely escaped with our lives? And what of the cost? What was traded for such information?”

“Stannis Baratheon along with Jon Arryn had been running King Robert’s kingdom throughout his entire reign. While Jon Arryn tried to reign in Robert, Stannis was the one who had actually proposed new laws in attempt to benefit the kingdom. This was a man who at age of 17, held his brother’s castle at Storm’s End and ate shoes and rats rather than surrendering to a hopelessly superior army from both land and sea. He, who ensured that his men, smallfolk, and his little brother were fed before him. And more importantly, Stannis has ships, ships that can lay siege to King’s Landing by targeting Blackwater Bay, should he want for an alliance.” Theon couldn’t keep the pride out of his eyes, here you stood, recounting the accomplishment of one man, stunning every lord by your extensive knowledge of military history in perfect clarity. Those hours spent in the Winterfell library and extensive lessons with Maester Luwin seemed to have paid off.

“As for the matter of honor, this war will not be won through honor, no this is war that will be done on the matter of duty.” Tears threatened to spill from your eyes as you braced your body in continuing, “Ned Stark’s duty as Hand of the King was to the kingdom. In choosing his honor, he lost his head. Robb Stark chose love over duty, and it cost him the lives of his wife, his child, and nearly 3000 of our men. Our duty to the North was to avenge Ned Stark’s death and protect his children, and in that we have failed miserably. Whether Stannis Baratheon is honorable remains to be seen, but it was his devotion to his duty had made his men so loyal to him and his enemies call him a man ‘truly just.’ As for the matter of proof, I would hope that this message that bears his seal to provide some comfort.” You hand a creased letter to Catelyn Stark for confirmation. After vigilant investigation, she confirmed that it was indeed written in his hand and that seal bore House Baratheon’s sigil, along with the seal of Dragonstone.

“And I can assure you my lords that the price was more than fair,” your confidence was slowly diminishing as you chose your next words carefully, “all that was asked from the stranger was that I sail from Seagard to a locate an individual and escort them to somewhere Beyond the Wall, afterwards I would be told more details of my mission from there.”

“What comes after you get those details and finish escorting them?” Theon didn’t recognize his own voice. “Do they send you somewhere else, who’s this person, where are you going?” Seven hells, is that panic in his voice? “When do you come back?”

You looked towards your precious brother, eyes trying to convey a hidden message you don’t dare to speak aloud. You take a deep and shaky breath before clearing your throat in an attempt to keep your voice steady and clear, “I don’t.”

And just like that, chaos erupts once more.

Theon doesn’t realize he was asleep before being so rudely pulled out of his dream…memory?

“Well, memory it may have been, but a nightmare to relive it once more.” Theon thought as he tried to focus on his surroundings, before seeing the reason he was awoken in the first place. On his chest, stood a majestic falcon gazing into the eyes of his owner. Despite being a first-class hunter, one would think this bird of prey that feeds on both fish and birds alike by swooping at tremendous speed with little to no sound, was really a smaller parrot if others knew how spoiled Ari was for attention and treats. “Forget Robb, the real challenge will be in keeping this little fellow from going mad from losing his main benefactor,” thought Theon as he lovingly stroked a finger on Ari’s head, the falcon sweetly preening from attention from his beloved savior.

“THEON!” A familiar voice bellowed as the footsteps whom Theon was sure belonged to one auburn-curled king grew louder as they stride closer to his tent.

“Speak of the devil, and he shall appear. Knowing what will soon come, I only hope to find a barrel of ale to drown my sorrows in afterwards.” And with that being his final thought before rising from his cot and just finished dressing himself before his tent’s flap flew open, and in came the Young Wolf with a fury so terrible it would bring down the Wall.

Robb’s POV

After arriving at the camp, Robb immediately jumped down his horse and demanded a steward to take care of his steed before he marched forward with only one person in mind, Theon Greyjoy. His father’s ward, his best mate, his brother without blood and in-arms, and the brother to one particular Yi Tish girl that was sailing further and further from where she belonged. If there was one person who knew where she was going, it was Theon. He had to know, Li and Theon had a bond between them. A bond that Robb loathed to admit many times, as it was that bond that could not be easily shattered or poisoned as such with the bonds of mere companions or even lovers. For companions, some periods of time apart would often do the trick, but even on the most drawn-out operations his father sent you out on, time only proved to strengthen the bond as you would return with tales of the people you were sent out to watch, and even come back with small gifts as tokens of fond remembrance. Every single one of those gifts, no matter how often Theon would act as if he were given something burdensome, were treasured and placed inside a wooden box that he secretly commissioned one of keep’s craftsmen to create in order to store them. Even if you two were lovers, however painful that would be for him, it would be of great comfort to Robb knowing that it such affections would one day pass. No matter how great the flames of passion arose, they would usually die out, especially in one’s youth. In your case, hopefully in a way so spectacularly horrendous that it would kill any hope of rekindling those flames ever again. But no, instead you two stubbornly remained siblings, and your bond was that of great platonic love and adoration. It baffled Robb to no end as to why the two of you remained so insistently loyal to one another, but it was the same answer every time Robb brought out his frustrations.

“He is my brother,” you would say without fail. “He is the family I chose to love and cherish, and so I will choose him. I will choose him every time.” You would look directly at him, with your big brown almond-shaped eyes, so warm and frank, as if you were stating so completely plain and obvious to a tempering child.

“Can’t you choose me? I would choose you. I could be your family.” Robb exclaimed in great exasperation at your persistence. After all, why couldn’t he be your family? He who saw how well you played and calmed his younger siblings when he, his mother, his father, and even the septas were too busy; who would always help you whenever you stumbled upon a difficult word that you couldn’t spell or pronounce; who would show you the secrets of the Winterfell Keep that he would not even show to Jon or Theon; he who saw your secret smiles and hidden protection you bestowed upon the many strays and smallfolk children in the village town. By the Seven’s sake, he was to be the Lord of Winterfell and of the North after his father, who better than him to take care of you?

“No,” you stressed out, “No Robb, you couldn’t. You and I could never be each other’s family, not the way that he and I are, not in the way you want us to be.” You looked at him with your eyes, your big, brown, warm, cruel eyes; eyes that looked so genuinely apologetic that it almost made him forget his anger, almost. “I’m sorry.”

“Why not?” Robb was sure that he sounded pathetic, but he needed to know, to understand, why he couldn’t be the one for you. Was it the differing status between you both, did his mother speak ill to you when he and his father were unable to witness it, or was it because you had feelings of love for someone else, someone not him? Oh gods, he could feel his young heart breaking at that final thought.

“Theon and I…”, you tried to find the words that could capture the meanings you didn’t know the words to, words that were not in any of the languages you had learned and spoken, “he and I are bonded. In a way that goes beyond words, beyond simply moments and memories. It is built on an understanding that only the two of us know of, something you have never and I pray that you never will understand, because it is a pain that very few our age knows about, and that is really all I can say of the matter.” With that being the final word, you turned and walked away, leaving the young heir more lost and aggravated than ever.

“Oh Li, my sweet, darling Li.” Robb thought as he admonished your words with tender childing. “How could you be so blind to your so-called brother’s selfish and arrogant ways? Do you not see how he would ruin you, how he would twist your naïve and tender heart with his cunning words and leering eyes?” After all, brother or not, Robb was not as stupid as many would like to him to be. Yes, he would admit that marrying Talisa was in poor taste, especially in letting her believe that she meant far greater to him than her original purpose. A purpose to strictly bring physical comfort and to destress after hard-fought battles, as well as to help him forget that he was to marry one of Walder Frey’s daughters and to forget about you. While he had never meant in their affair to go so far, he will admit that he got carried away with her. He got lost in their conversations and banter, in her altruistic warmth and kindness, he allowed himself to give into the idea of championing love and how it would conquer any obstacle set before him. But most of all, he longed for the idea of sharing a love with someone new, someone who didn’t know him from his youth. He wanted to love someone who didn’t know of the many insecurities that plague his mind whenever he planned for his next battle. He pined at the idea of someone who didn’t see the vulnerable boy he hid away to project the undefeated wolf marching towards the lion’s den. He was desperate for the warmth and frankness that would be rewarded to him from a woman whose love was sweet and generous and easy.

Talisa had been all of that, and more, so much more. She was opposite to you in every way, physical and emotional. The only similarity that could be shared between the two of you would be that your hair was dark, but even in that there were too many differences. You had routinely cut your hair to your armpit, whereas Talisa’s hair flowed past her midback. And upon further inspection, one could see very things streaks of silver and grey as a result of stress, meanwhile there were no such signs in his late wife’s dark locks. Both of your faces were beautiful and similar in some features but your beauty differed in hers not only in the regions of birth, but in evidence of treatment. Both of your faces had a straight nose, downward turned lips, and almond-shaped eyes. But Talisa’s elegant and angular visage contained no markings or blemishes of any kind. There were no crow’s feet, or scars. Even after witnessing her most laborious treatments and amputations, did she contain an angelic maturity that would envy the wealthiest of highborn women. Everything about her… her willowy and pliant frame… unblemished reddish hue complexion…angelic lips…legs that stretched for miles and were connected by full hips…all of it in the form of one truly mythic beauty.  

Whereas you…if Talisa’s beauty could be compared to an angel that glowed compassion and wisdom, yours was that of a survivor that radiated the hardships from years of regimented training for an enduring body and great mental fortitude. Your shoulders and rib cage were broad, but your stomach was slim with a taut core. Your arms were a bit trim, but years in learning how to properly shoot a bow and arrow, along with varying combat made them toned and fine. Your calves were strong and thick and they stretched your trouser legs, and while many insisted you looked more man than woman, you relished in their power in action. Your waist was sinched in a way that showed off the fullness in your hips, and perfectly gave way to your marvelous ass that he stared at more times than he likes to admit, especially with Theon’s overly protective gaze following him no matter the time or place. But he had remained respectful in his gaze if you don’t count the number of times, he spied you while swimming in the springs with the sheer small clothes as your only barrier, or when he watched you bathe in your quarters in the secret compartments or whenever he stroked his cock with an unwavering gaze as you rubbed your clit calling out his name.

While Talisa’s skin bared no markings, there seemed not to be a single patch of skin on your outer framework that didn’t contain a fading mark or scar. Even your proportional facial features: with downward lips that usually remained stoic, and straight framed nose that rarely crinkled even when it was red in the harshest of winters, and eyes that seemed unemotional until one paid close attention in order to see the carefully guarded mirth and gentleness that brightly shone in your peace; were littered with marking brought by you whenever you spied a pimple and removed it, letting it bleed and fester before it healed and scarred. This aggravated his mother and sister Sansa to great lengths, especially Sansa as she would insist that you were spoiling your own beauty and that no man would ever want to marry a woman with such awful scars on her face. You would turn to her stating that you would likely never marry in the first place, nor did you want to leave. Marriage would mean leaving Winterfell, the Stark family, and your new friends, including her who gave you your first gift. This shocked and flustered Sansa, as that “first gift” was a poorly embroidered handkerchief she just wanted to throw away, but instead gave it to you. Not long after, Sansa gifted you a much prettier embroidered handkerchief, one that had little blue flowers sewn across the borders. She insisted that you throw out the first, but you told her that she made both, so both were too important. So, you bought a small wooden box from your meager savings, and tucked both away neatly and lovingly. She still chided you something fierce whenever she caught you picking and scratching your own face. But sometimes Robb would pass by Sansa’s chambers, and double back in shock seeing the two of you conversing (well, more akin to Sansa gossiping and fantasizing about the South while you gave monosyllabic responses) on her bed while she practiced braiding your hair.

This brought up the most glaring difference between you and Talisa, although neither of you were born in Westeros, let alone in the North. But Talisa would never, could never be a Northerner, not in the way he and his family were Northerners as they were Starks, not in the way you grew to be a Northerner. She would never be able to adapt to the bitter cold and snow, could never love the harsh and biting winds, take comfort in the fresh air and scent of smoke wood burning in a hearth the way you had when you were brought to Winterfell by his father. There was no doubt that she would be respected, admired even, but the North and its people would never take to her in the way they took to you. You, who after weeks of careful interrogation and healing, took off running in the Godswoods, climbing its trees, breathing in its holy air, sitting before the weirwood tree with no fear as if you knew it your whole life. While it took a good while for you to gain the castle’s staff trust, it hadn’t taken much time for the village folk to look after you, despite being a foreigner who barely spoke the language. Granted there was the occasional drunk and youthful miscreant who still called after you in offensive terms, but they were quickly taken care of by Theon (who was the third in the keep to take you under his wing, after his father and Maester Luwin).

In return for their kindness, you became somewhat of a silent guardian. You made sure that no wild animals harmed anyone, even those who lived outside the village and in the deep forests; ensured that no child was lost after dark, often returning with bitemarks and long bleeding scratches; and fought off cruel men to the women working in the brothels and the barmaids in the Smoking Log. You even went so far as to “educate” the men who crossed your ire with you... somewhat disturbed skillset from the streets of Qarth. These particular teachings brought you much favor with the town’s women, none more so than Ros (who just so happened to your brother’s favorite whore). So much so that she liked to refer to herself as your “best friend,” a sentiment you returned wholeheartedly, as she was one of the few who heard you laugh, not just a giggle, but a full-bellied laugh, and seen you genuinely smile more times than anyone (besides your brother of course and him). And animals, gods. Don’t even mention to Robb about the animals, he could go on and on about how you seemed determined to take in every stray that wondered around aimlessly, hoping for some scraps of food or a place with walls to keep out the cold. In the first year you were brought, Robb could name over a dozen separate occasions you brought in a stray to care for before being found out. His father had hoped that by letting you keep your beloved shadowcat, you would stop this habit. This caused the very opposite of his hopes to happen, as you had no intention to stop taking in every stray that looked you with sad eyes. You only made sure to hide them in more…discreet locations, mostly in Jon’s and Theon’s rooms, as they shared a fondness for a singular cute creature with sad eyes (you).

But even that was not the limit of your protection. You even provided help to the wives whose husbands abuse them in cruelties beyond imagination, to where these men’s cruelties extend to their own children. These circumstances were tricky to say the least, as there was little to be done as the wife and children belonged to her husband and father, as he was usually the main provider of the family. Very few women dared not indicate any signs of abuse to anyone, much less towards his lord father. Robb was in his father’s solar at the time, learning about his future duties when in you barged in, holding a thick stack of evidence and documentation of not only the alleged offenses, but also proof in showing that these women willingly came to you to bring forth justice, knowing that their Lord Eddard Stark could only do so much. Not only that, but you also found evidence of reports of similar offenses being thrown out, meaning that you took the time and energy to fish out the documents from every trash heap in order to properly present your case.

This is where your true talents laid, in your relentless empathy and your perseverance for change. You may hide your heart in guarded walls made of heavily forged iron, but that didn’t take away the fact that you cared, you cared so deeply. You would use the skills you tirelessly trained for the purpose to protect those who cannot demand protection from those in power and cannot afford to bring attention upon themselves. In presenting the evidence, you asked whether this would be enough to request a change in policy regarding the protection of women and children in not only Winterfell, but across the North. Your body in steeled posture, expecting refusal and rejection, froze in shock in hearing that he would immediately establish a new policy regarding the treatment of familial relations, and punishment in violating that policy would result in amputation or beheading. Immediately, you raced across his desk and hugged him so tightly that Ned Stark was sure you had been possessed by a strange benevolent goblin. Noticing your precarious position, you straightened yourself out and apologized profusely before thanking him and swiftly exiting his solar. When brought up to House Stark’s vassal houses, many protested, though none more so than Lord Roose Bolton, as rumors of him leeching and torturing his wife and smallfolk were legendary in infamy. He questioned why such Lord Stark felt it necessary for such a policy to be implemented, but Robb’s father remained firm in keeping your anonymity, knowing you would be targeted for serious punishment if the lords knew of your identity.

“Being a Lord is like being a father, except you have thousands of children and you worry about all of them. The farmers plowing the fields are yours to protect. The charwomen scrubbing the floors, yours to protect. The soldiers you order into battle.” He paused before continuing, “But it seems, I have forgotten what it means to be a father to many others. I have evidence, of hundreds, if not thousands of reports stating the mistreatment by a family head’s hands. Reports that were never brought to me by men I thought I could trust. As Warden of the North, it is my duty to care for these women and their children, but I have failed in my duty. That is why I have created this law, and any violations of this law will be brought to my attention by the official guards of each house’s town. However, any knowledge of these violations going unpunished will be informed to someone else, someone personally placed and hidden that not even your best spies will find. They will be my eyes and ears; they will be my messengers. Should you bring your own twisted sense of justice upon them, I will know, and as you all know, I’ve never been one to use a headsman to do my beheading.” With that being the final word of the matter, Robb’s father dismissed his men, and called for the ravens to carry out the new law across his land. Robb would never forget those words for as long as he lived.

True to his father’s words, reports of these violations were kept in the known, and the Northern houses were expected to carry out the law’s sentences. Wicked men who violently struck their wives and children without proper justification had their hands chopped off. Those who starved their families were thrown into the dungeons without food or comfort for varying periods of time. And vile rapists had public castrations, and were also faced with beheadings. The lords ceaselessly hired the best spies and sellswords to find Ned Stark’s eyes and ears, but nothing came out of it. Soon enough, crimes of not only this offense, but other unrelated offences started to cease. Time continued forward, and the number of reports continuously dwindled until women felt it safe to walk at night without the need of a dagger, children felt it safe to play with outside after dark, and those with wickedness in their hearts learned what it meant to act properly without needing intervention of a higher power.

Smallfolk across the North sung praises to Ned Stark, for his kind and noble heart, for his true sense of justice, for being a man with true honor and knew the meaning of a lord’s duty of his people. But the women and children of Winterfell knew the truth, and it was you they silently revered. After all, only you listened to their cries, to their pain and anguish. You who searched for proof and evidence until the amount grew so great that you knew it could no longer be ignored. Things were not perfect, no far from it, but they were better. They were so much better, and they had you to thank for that. You were their paragon of justice and truth, someone who pushed for action in their lord’s idleness. One young man came up to you in privacy, and cried his thanks. He revealed to you that he and his brother were raped by their mother since their father’s death, but he could not tell anyone the truth, he could not bear the shame. But thanks to you, that wretched cunt was beheaded, and he could finally take his siblings far down south, where they would hopefully find better work and start a better life. You were silent until you carefully asked the young man if you could have his permission to hug him. When he granted it, you carefully and slowly placed your arms around him before both of you were sobbing and wishing good fortune to one another.

“No,” Robb thought as he almost reached Theon’s tent, “Talisa would never be accepted as his queen, not when you had taken the hearts of Winterfell’s inhabitants.” And as much as he felt guilty for her death and how he wouldn’t truly love her, he knew that this was for the best in the long run. Talisa was intelligent, and kind; but the coming winter would be ruthless, and her warmth would be swept out long before spring would arrive. He did mourn for his child, but he knew that with you by his side, there would be plenty of opportunities to create new heirs, and soon enough Winterfell will be run amok by little wolf pups and laughter once more. “Even if you do not understand it now, you cannot hide your feelings from your mate, little dragon.” As furious as Robb still was by you running from him, he knew that sooner or later that the two of you would find each other once more, and in finding each other, you would rule by his side as his queen and the North would only prosper in your reign together. A reign that would come a lot sooner than later, if he knew where in the seven hells you were off to.

“THEON!” Robb shouted before he stormed into Theon’s tent, he watched with furious eyes at his oldest friend and greatest enemy when it comes to you as Ari off his shoulder and perched on top of Grey Wind’s head. His chest was heaving, his nostrils flared in barely veiled anger, as he vented out the words, “Where is she?”

“With all due respect, your grace,” Theon quipped out as he began to pour himself some water, inhaling it in a few gulps before continuing, “you’ll have to be more specific. I don’t have the faintest idea of who this ‘she’ would be?”

“Oh, so that’s how he wants to play this out,” Robb thought out as he took a deep breath. He should have known better than to expect Theon Greyjoy of all people to give a straightforward answer. He quickly sent Grey Wind out to guard the tent, and not anyone in before curtly replying, “Don’t act dull. You know exactly whom I am referring to.”

Theon sat at his desk before pretended to ponder with his chin in one hand, and elbow in another, before continuing, “No, no, I’m afraid not, your grace. ‘She’ could really be anyone, would ‘she’ happen to be your mother? No, no, no…how about Arya, or perhaps Sansa? No, Arya just got here, and Sansa’s still not here, no thanks to you…Oh! Might ‘she’ be your late wife? The one who you fucked, then married and got killed- “Robb grabbed his throat before he could continue on, fury finally getting the better of him, and slammed the back of Theon’s head on top of the desk.

“Don’t you start with me Greyjoy,” Robb could barely contain himself, but he knew he had to, if only to get the information of where you were heading. He swallowed his pride before loosening his grip, and spoke his next words through clenched teeth, “Where is Long Li going? Don’t even think of lying to me!”

Theon’s eyes softened at the mention of your name, before whispering out, “Are you demanding an answer as my king?” His eyes and voice hardened to prepare saying the next words without spitting at the man above him, “Or as my brother?”

“Aye, I am your brother, now and always, but right now, I come to demand you answer me,” Robb’s voice grew stronger as he stated his next words, “as the man who intends to take her as my future wife and mother of my children and future heirs.” As he finished speaking, Theon felt anger surge throughout his body, and he gripped Robb’s doublet with both hands and flipped him onto his back.

“What makes you think I know?” Theon venomously spat out with a bit of condescension, “And for that matter, what makes you think that I would ever tell you? The boy who threw duty for love, that’s what everyone’s calling you. And for good reason too. Robb Stark, King in the North, the Young Wolf that never lost a battle, almost got 3000 men killed for love, and did get his wife gutted for it.” Theon let out a mocking laugh Robb, who struggled to get out of his grip, only to remain pinned on the desk. “If it weren’t for Li, we’d all be dead, bodies thrown into the river, rotting at the bottom. And because of you, she’s gone, gone with some mad man who could do anything to her.” Theon could feel his throat constricting, but didn’t bother to restrain his worst fears. He wanted Robb to bleed out more than when Roose Bolton shoved an arrow to his chest, “She could be gutted, maimed, or raped by now, and it’d be all your fault.” Theon released his grip and quickly turned away as he wiped the tears running down his cheeks at the thought of you getting hurt, and him not being there to protect you. Recalling your tearful goodbye, filled with gripping hugs and sweet words, and refusal to acknowledge the fear of never seeing each other again. The thought of you, the only person he truly, completely, and unconditionally loved, gone forever killed him. He tried to not completely fall apart as he remembered the final look you gave him before urging your horse into a gallop to put as much distance between you and the camp on your way to Seagard.

“I begged her to not go. I told her that no duty was worth her, that she’s done enough for others and that she should just stay here, where she could be safe.” He let out a bitter laugh before persisting while pacing around his tent, “But she wouldn’t hear of it, said that she had to go, and worst of all, I couldn’t go with her. She said that she needed me here, to make sure that you had your head an’ wits still with you after you wake up. She told me, ‘Robb’s lost too much already, and you’re his best friend. He just lost the woman he loves and their child, he’s going to need you to keep him grounded more than ever now.’” He poured more water, and swung it back before continuing, “‘Keep you grounded’, yea’ fat load of grounding I did before, eh? No matter what me, your mother, or Li told you…you still married your pretty healer queen, because you thought you were entitled to more happiness than the rest of us. Some king you are, you fuckin’ piece of shit.”

Theon finally stopped before sitting on his bed, elbows on his knees and head in his hands, sounding so tired and small that Robb wouldn’t have believe it was him if he weren’t right in front of him, “My sister is gone and might turn up dead and it’s all your fault, Robb Stark. And even if she’s alive, she can’t come back. You’re a shit king for making her doing this, for everything she did so that you’d and your family be safe.” Theon looked up, tears still streaming down his eyes, and stared directly at Robb as he scoffed out the next words, “She left feeling guilty, for so many things, all out of her control. First, for being too weak and injured to outfight the Tarth bitch; second, for not guarding those Lannister boys well enough, and the final part? The last’s the worst ten times over, because she thinks it’s her fault that Talisa and your child got murdered, that if she were just a little quicker and a little smarter and a little better, she’d get there earlier and both of them would make it out breathing. She almost went mad over it you know. I almost had to talk her out of throwing herself off the fucking Frey bridge, as if she hadn’t lost enough of her sanity already.” Both of them went silent after that, only until Robb walked over and sat by Theon and broke the tense silence.

“I didn’t love Talisa,” he rasped out, “I thought I did, I wanted to, but I couldn’t.” He looked at his feet, shame overtaking him as he only just realizes what Theon had lost as a result of his selfishness. “I cared for her, I loved our child, but I didn’t love her. I couldn’t, not when I already love Li, not how I will always love Li.”

“I know,” Theon responded, “I know.” Because while he was still angry, he knew Robb was genuinely sorry, even if he was an entitled prick.

“So,” Robb looked over to ask his old friend, “what happens now?”

Theon took in a deep breath, eyes closed in careful thought before answering, “We get out of this tent, execute some Bolton’s and Frey’s, meet with the bannermen, and make the preparations to Maidenpool to meet with Stannis to bend the knee or some shit.” He then turned his head to look at Robb with his trademark smirk and quipped out, “But before that last part, we’re going to find the biggest barrel of ale we got, and then drain the whole damned thing.”

Robb barks out a quick laugh, and tries to grip himself together in saying, “Perfect, what comes after the ale and before Maidenpool?”

“After the ale, we fight some more, drink some more, and then probably piss ourselves in our sleep.” Theon lists off before the two young men erupt in laughter, both tired of being mad at their best friend. “And before you ask, we’re meeting Stannis at Maidenpool because we got no bloody ships, and it’s going to be you, me, Arya, and Blackfish.” He saw the confused look in Robb’s eyes before going on, “The note asked for me specifically, probably to call me out for treason in being a Greyjoy or something. You’re coming because you’re the King in the North, Arya because two Starks are better than one in this case and your mother is in no state to continue on, my guess is that the bannermen probably want to send her back to Winterfell. And Blackfish is going because he’s a Tully of Riverrun, but he’s not your fuckup Uncle Edmure Tully of Riverrun.”

Robb chuckled out, “Aye, at least he’s not Edmure. And it’d be good for my mother to return to Winterfell, she likely wants to see Bran and Rickon more than she wants to see Sansa.” Satisfied with everything out in the open, the two men got up and called for their animal companions who guarded the tent from onlookers as they had their squabble.

“Come on now,” Theon slapped his king’s back as Ari flew to his right shoulder, “let’s spill some traitor blood and finish this meeting quick. Ale waits for no one.” And Robb laughed and smiled, remembering how good it felt to be laughing with Theon like he had in Winterfell. When everything was alright, his father alive and well, his sisters bickering but together, his mother with all her children, him with Jon and Theon in the training yard teaching Bran and Rickon how to shoot. No war to fight, no battles to be won, and most importantly, you were still by his side.

Please like, reblog, or comment your opinions if you want to, but please remain respectful. If I missed any warnings, let me know.

[ppenguinpperson]

The Admission of RT002-465

Zh. I. Alferov National Institute of Anomalous Research LOG: XXXXXX Written by Dr. Gabriela Kozlova (EN. XXXXX) 23. 08. 2009 Authorized by Dr. Gabriela Kozlova (EN XXXXXX) 23. 08. 2009 Regarding Anastasia Komarova (Lacking ID)

BASIC INFORMATION Subject is 13 years old (F). It came to the facility on 21. 08. 2009. We have not been able to reach the subject’s legal guardians. It is presumed they are avoiding contact with us/law enforcement. Subject voluntarily gives information on itself, but it is not clear whether it’s telling the truth. The information it’s given us, and information that has been brought to our attention by observing it, goes as follows:

First name: Anastasia Last name: Komarova Mother: Anna Komarova Father: Anatoliy Komar Date of birth: 01. 09. 1995 Place of birth: XXXXX, XXXXXX Address: XXXXXXXX, XXX, XXXXX/XX Disabilities, allergies: — Appearance: 158 cm, 62 kg – Eyes are blue. Skin is white. Hair is long and ginger. At the time of capture, the subject was wearing a school uniform (white shirt, black skirt, black shoes) with its hair in 2 braids. No scars, no piercings, no birthmarks. Subject’s appearance holds no abnormality. Extra information:

It is presumed the subject is mentally unstable. It cries at random times with no fixed schedule. It yells at staff if displeased. It refuses to eat the food and wear the clothes we provide it with. It only calms if it deems it has been treated fairly.

It is presumed the subject’s homelife was unhealthy. See above. The subject claims both legal guardians were aware of its anomalous nature and chose not to report it.

The subject’s mutation has regenerative qualities (read for more information).

The subject’s capture is unusual. I wish to document it for future reference. All parties were interviewed separately, but recounted the events in a near identical manner. The event prescribed here took place 21. 08. 2009, ~10:15-11:00. The security guards (EN XXXXXX, EN XXXXXX), posted at the entrance of block A. claim the subject approached them ~10:15 AM. They claim it requested to be let inside the institute, and declared itself a mutant. Neither of the guards have the ability to detect anomalies, and due to the subject’s human appearance, neither believed it was telling the truth. Both claim it grew distressed upon being repeatedly denied access. XXXXXX claims he panicked when it approached him. He then raised his gun at the subject (Note: At the time, he was not aware he was in contact with an anomaly), in what he claims to be self defense. XXXXXX claims he had no intention of shooting the anomaly. From my office in block A, I heard 2 gunshots ~10:20. Dr. XXXXXX (EN XXXXXX) and Dr. XXXXXXX (EN XXXXXX) can confirm. XXXXXX shot the subject in the chest, in its left lung. He claims he missed the second shot (This is true: a bullet was found in the grass where the incident took place). He shot it with the Glock 22, which has bullets 10 mm diameter. Both guards claim nothing happened between ~10:20 and ~10:30 while they were alone with the subject. After ~10 minutes of the subject being injured, XXXXXX called for help. Dr. XXXXX, Dr. XXXXXX, and I rushed it to the 2A operating room. (Note: This is NOT something we should practice in the future. I agree the situation was difficult , but we CANNOT afford to operate on people when we don’t have clearance to, especially CHILDREN. Had the subject turned out to be a human, it would not only have died, but we would have been liable. Do NOT do this again.) The subject should have been in critical condition, but it was only moderate. The subject managed to speak short coherent sentences (It repeatedly said “Help me” and “Don’t shoot me”). The subject was exhibiting abnormal behavior during preparation (ex: not bleeding as much as expected, not coughing up blood, not passing out from blood loss). It turned unconscious when Dr. XXXXXX administered anesthesia. We successfully managed to reach the bullet located in the left lung, only to find an anomaly. The lung tissue had already begun to grow over it and fixed the bullet in place. The bullet was successfully removed with minimal damage done to the subject’s lung. Halfway during the operation,~10:40, the subject woke up. It should have been unconscious for another few hours. No more anesthesia was administered so as to not risk its health. Subject was restrained for the rest of the operation. The operation ended ~10:50 when the subject was deemed stable. Subject later confirms the events prior to administration of anesthesia. It only claims it was not ‘distressed’, as the guards and I claim, and instead says it was perfectly calm. It is presumed it is lying about this to appear more mature.

REQUESTS Written Dr. Gabriela Kozlova (E.N. XXXXX) 23. 08. 2009 Authorized by Dr. XXXX XXXXXXXX (E.N. XXXXXX) 25. 08. 2009 Regarding Anastasia Komarova (Lacking ID)

Request to give the subject proper ID. Request it to be categorized as Regenerative Type. Request for the third digit of the ID to be 2. Request for the last three digits of the ID to be standard (Ex: RT002-XYZ – I do not know how many Regenerative Types we’ve had.) Request for minimized contact with other subjects. Request to be primary handler of the subject. Request to get different clothing for the subject.

REASONS: Reason for Type: Subject is breathing well despite being shot in the lung. Dr. XXXXX and Dr. XXXXXX can confirm the visuals of tissue growing over its wound. Subject agrees that this Typing would be accurate. If my request for Typing is denied, I request more tests to confirm my theory. Reason for Class: Subject has not yet shown traits that would deem it deserving of 01 treatment. Subject has not yet shown violent tendencies and claims its Anomalous nature holds no dangerous properties, which I am inclined to believe. Undeserving of 04 treatment. Subject is very eager to help and has repeatedly stated, I quote, “I love you”. Classing it as 03 could discourage it from cooperation. It is deserving of 02 classing. Request for Other: 

 Primary Handler: Multiple times, it has expressed gratitude to me for ‘saving it’, and has requested me multiple times for unimportant reasons, such as ‘feeling lonely’. In any other case, I would request to be as little involved with the subject as possible, but because this one has spent its life disguised as a human I suspect it’s important for it to build an attachment to the institute. I will keep the relationship strictly professional. I will not pursue this request if it is denied.

Clothes: Subject refuses to wear what has been picked out for it. It claims that ‘(it) didn’t come here to be treated like a little kid’. It will be easier giving it the clothing that it wants. This would provide comfort and build trust.

RESPONSE: Written by Dr. XXXX XXXXXXXX (EN XXXXXX)                                                25. 08. 2009 Authorized by Dr. XXXX XXXXXXXX (EN XXXXXX)                                          25. 08. 2009

ID: APPROVED (Subject will receive ID)             Type: DISAPPROVED (It is too early for Typing) – APPROVED request for more tests (On the requirement that there are results)             Class: APPROVED (On the requirement subject will be demoted to 03 if it shows signs of aggression, or to 04 if it shows signs of desire to leave)            Other:

Primary Handler: TBD (02 Class subjects do not usually get PHs. I was planning to let group AA get control of it, but it’s true it’d be useful to create an attachment early on. Many factors to consider here.)

Clothing: APPROVED (Don’t push it, it’s not getting new clothes. There’s a bunch of old clothes that should be the subject’s size in block C. Give it those.)

CONCLUSION: Written by Dr. XXXXX XXXXXX (EN XXXXXX)                                                     02. 09. 2009 Authorized by Dr. Gabriela Kozlova (EN XXXXXX)                                             02. 09. 2009 Regarding RT002-465 (Anastasia Komarova)

ID: RT002-456 Primary Handler: Dr. Gabriela Kozlova (EN XXXXXX) and team AA Extra Information:  RT will have no contact with other subjects for a minimum of a month. This includes giving it its own room for the time being. RT’s legal guardians have agreed to pay child support until the subject turns 18 years old. RT will receive a psych. evaluation. RT’s antics will not be tolerated. RT will receive checkups by its PH twice a week for the next month. The PH will then monitor it as he/she sees fit. RT’s mutation is still a mystery. Take care to keep it alive during experiments.

[papermoonloveslucy]

RIP CINDY WILLIAMS

1947 - 2023

Cindy Williams was born in the Van Nuys California on August 22, 1947. Her family moved to Dallas, Texas when she was a year old, and returned to Los Angeles when she was ten. She had one sibling, a sister named Carol Ann. Williams wrote and acted during childhood at a church and later acted at Birmingham High School, graduating in 1965. She attended Los Angeles City College where she majored in theater .

Three years after playing small roles in film and television, Williams landed the role of Laurie in American Graffiti (1973) which she repeated in the 1979 sequel.  She was nominated for a BAFTA Award for the original film. 

That same year, Williams shared Ringmaster duties with Lucille Ball and Telly Savalas on “Circus of the Stars 2″. Ringmaster Williams introduces her future co-star Penny Marshall, who works with a baby elephant named Tika. Williams also does a stunt with Michael York that ends with her being shot out of a canon. 

Williams was first introduced to Penny Marshall by Marshall’s brother Garry, who had written 11 episodes of “The Lucy Show” from 1964 to 1966. 

Garry cast them on “Happy Days” as Fonzie’s dates on a November 1975 episode of the popular series. She was reunited with her American Grafitti co-star Ron Howard. A spin-off followed in 1976. 

“Laverne & Shirley” ran six seasons, although Williams departed the show after season five and 158 epsisodes. 

Laverne and Shirley’s high jinks were reminiscent of those of Lucy Ricardo and Ethel Mertz on “I Love Lucy.” Williams demonstrated a flair for portraying the awkwardness of youth in broad physical comedy. Both series featured redheads and both took place in the 1950s. 

Although Laverne and Shirley were evocative of Lucy and Ethel, sometimes the homage was a bit more specific.  

“Laverne & Shirley” - “The Diner” (May 6, 1980) inspired by “I Love Lucy” - “The Diner” (April 26, 1954)

No other female comedy team in the history of television has been so often compared to Lucy and Ethel as Laverne and Shirley. Add in their pals Lenny and Squiggy, you’ve got a reasonable facsimile of the Ricardos and Mertzes, especially when the plots pit men against the women. In this episode, which has the same exact title as its inspiration, Lenny has inherited a diner that he gives over to the girls to run.

Just as Ethel was confined to the kitchen, so is Laverne. She even does a bit of business with a pop-up toaster, something that Lucille Ball often did. Both sets of ladies indulge in “diner lingo” and get overwhelmed by their new business ventures.

"Laverne and Shirley” was filmed at Stage 20 on the Paramount lot, which was formerly Desilu. The show was known for fearless physical comedy not seen since the days of “I Love Lucy.”  

“Lucy was a physical comedienne, and she would be all over the stage, so Desi Arnaz, being the genius he was, put all of their cameras on these dollies. So [on Laverne & Shirley] there are three cameras, you’ve got the stage, as though you are watching a play, and you have the cameras moving with us on dollies. Usually, [sitcom] cameras are set in place and stagnant, but our cameras were like Lucille Ball’s cameras.” ~ Cindy Williams, 2001

Actors who also appeared with Lucille Ball that appeared on “Laverne & Shirley” include Hans Conried, Mary Treen, Robert Alda, Gino Conforti, Dick Patterson, and Leoda Richards.  

In 1995, she participated in “The Laverne & Shirley Reunion”. In 2002, Williams once again re-united with Marshall for “Laverne & Shirley: Together Again”, a TV special. 

In 1978, Williams and Ball were part of “Gene Kelly: An American in Pasadena”, a variety show tribute to Kelly that also featured her “Laverne & Shirley” co-star Betty Garrett (Edna Babish). 

That same year, Lucy and Cindy were also seen on “General Electric’s All-Star Anniversary.”  Here she was teamed with her former co-star Penny Marshall. 

Williams was also seen with Ball at "The Sixth Annual American Cinema Awards” honoring Bette Davis on January 6, 1989. This was one of Ball’s last appearances before her death. 

Williams was married to Bill Hudson in 1982. Together they have two children: Emily and Zachary. The marriage ended in divorce in 2000. Cindy Williams died at home after a short illness. She was 75 years old. 

[daily-linkclick]

(im sorry if this sent twice my computer did a weird thing as i was typing out my ask and idk if it sent prematurely)

i just caught up to the orv manwha on webtoon (ep 158) should i pick up the novel where it leaves off or should i pick it up from the beginning? like... how different is the manwha if it differs majorly anywhere in the story (personally got a lil annoyed at it misgendering nirvana in the chapters following after they said theyre neither man nor woman :/)

dw you're good it only sent once!

i'm not the best person to ask this because i'm (apparently?) one of the uncommon ones who read the webnovel first! from what i've heard the webtoon is fairly accurate, but it skims! there's some really good subtle character moments that don't get shown (which i can see why, a webtoon is more costly both in time and budget than making than a novel). and also from what i've personally seen they removed a character's line teasing kdj's romance with yjh. it was pretty funny and i'm sad they removed it LOL

plus if you start from the beginning you can get used to how the novel is structured! it has honorifics for a lot of characters and the names are structured as last name then first name which looks more natural to me LOL. i read a *bit* of the webtoon because i wanted to see how some things looked, and the webtoon does not capture kdj's thought process as well as the webnovel. a lot of his personality and how we get to know more of him comes from his thoughts, and i assume the webtoon cuts most of them for time and readability.

(also my god im so sorry to hear about nirvana, iirc they use they/them for them in the novel with the occasional gendered pronouns? so not as bad as what you mentioned lol)

so tl:dr, i personally recommend reading from the beginning to get used to how the novel is structured and written, and to get those very nice characterization that might be lost in the webtoon!

[lurking-latinist]

reviving a meme I previously got from @swinging-stars-from-satellites

1. How many works do you have on Ao3?

158 (one currently unrevealed).

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count?

103,185. I cracked 100k recently!

3. How many fandoms have you written for?

All the Doctors Who + Gallifrey + Iris Wildthyme + The Time Travellers + GoR etc.; Ancient Greek Religion & Lore; WtOVPIC; Blake’s 7; Dracula; Discworld; Windrose Chronicles & Sun-Cross series also by Barbara Hambly (one crossover); All Creatures Great and Small; Lost at Christmas, heaven help me. That makes nine as I count it. Most only for one small thing or crossover.

4. Top 5 fics by kudos?

Skipping kudos bot victims:

Ms Smith (13 and Sarah, fun with fake names)

don’t worry, he’s with me (Ten and Donna five-times-fic)

Vicarious (Six & Martha drabble)

Time Flies Like an Arrow (witches fly on a broomstick) (Discworld, Lancre Witches, having a philosophical conversation about time) (I have come to detest this title but I’m glad people enjoyed the fic)

to all our nights and days to come (Seven/Romana Time War AU)

It’s helpful to include extremely popular, well-known characters in your fics. Or, apparently, to write a slightly darker twist on your rarepair OTP and happen to plug it one day on a relevant popular post.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why/why not?

I do, because I love getting comments and I am always genuinely grateful to hear that someone has enjoyed my work!

6. A fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Wow, last time I did this meme I said it was That Which We Call. That’s changed. It might actually be to all our nights and days to come, or else one of the Six-post-Trial ones.

7. Do you write crossovers?

Apparently! But not much, and not well.

8. Ever received hate on a fic?

Nope, touch wood.

9, Do you write smut?

Not my thing.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

11. Ever had a fic translated?

Yes!! @sci-firenegade translated Making History into Portuguese! It is so cool.

12. Have you ever co-written a fic?

Sort of, with Moki! We more tend to write sequels to each other’s stuff, but we also have listed ourselves as co-authors on a couple of things.

13. All time fav ship?

Seven/Romana.

14. WIP you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Never say die! Probably the Eight/Charley babyfic AU, though. If I go back to it it’ll be as a very different writer and I’ll probably want to rework what exists and it’ll be technically a different fic.

15. Writing strengths?

Character voices & dialogue. Also, focalization. I always know what A thinks of B and what B notices about A, which is hilarious as I absolutely do not know any of this in real life.

16. Writing weaknesses?

Used to be length; I’m still very brief but I feel like I have more control over the length of a fic now. Like it comes out more or less the length I expect it to; I can tell what size something’s gonna be. Probably now I would just say plot. I’m not great at Things Occurring. And like everybody else I get hung up on how to describe basic actions like walking across a room.

17. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in a fic?

Don’t do it if you can’t get the other language right (as well as how code-switching actually tends to work). Also, translation convention exists for a reason. Probably don’t pull an ‘opening lines of War and Peace’ unless you are in fact Tolstoy, in which case you don’t need my writing advice. Nothing inherently wrong with it though.

18. First fandom you wrote for?

Officially, DW. Unofficially, probably something as a kid before I knew fandom existed. Redwall or something.

19. What’s your fav fic you’ve written so far?

to all our nights and days to come, probably.

Not tagging anyone, but memes are for stealing!

[semper-legens]

158. For Thy Great Pain Have Mercy On My Little Pain, by Victoria Mackenzie

Owned: No, library Page count: 161 My summary: Two women receive visions from Jesus, telling them to devote their lives to God. One is a widow, a childless mother, who has lost almost everything but gained Heaven. The other is a wife and a mother, who has to support her family and failing husband. Their lives will entwine and wrap together in unexpected ways until they finally find each other, together in their divine knowledge. My rating: 5/5 My commentary:

This book was written for an audience of one person, and that person is me. I am very grateful for it! Julian of Norwich and Margery Kempe were two completely fascinating women. Both lived in the 12th and 13th century. Julian was an anchoress, a woman who lived in isolation for prayer and contemplation of God. Anchorites were considered to be dead in the eyes of the world, and were meant to live entirely Godly lives without the distractions of the world - kind of living saints. Margery was a wife and mother, with an entirely typical life for her time period, but for her relationship with Jesus. Both women saw visions of Jesus in times of illness, and both were meant to have had great revelations given to them by the visions. Both wrote of their experiences; Julian in the Book of Divine Revelations, which is used by the church to this day, and Margery in the Book for Margery Kempe, where she essentially wrote her own saint's life. Fascinating women, and this fictionalisation of their stories is a really good read!

I'm going to talk about our two leading ladies here, because really, this book is just their lives. Because they were women in the medieval era, we don't really have many solid facts about their personal lives other than their books. We don't technically know if Julian was Julian of Norwich's birth name - it was used as a girl's name at the time, but the church she was attached to was St Julian's church, and she might have taken her name from that when she became an anchoress. Her revelations appeared to her when she was near-dead (to the point of being given last rites) from an illness, and she wrote them up in later life. This book's account of Julian is a very plausible imagining - and I mean that as a compliment. Julian's life is by necessity fictionalised here, but the author shows what is very typical life for a woman of her class and vocation. She was married, had a child, but the child and her husband died of the same illness that almost claimed her. As a woman, Julian had to keep her visions to herself, since she would not have been believed and treated as a heretic. The fact that her writing did get out is something of a mystery - it was never traditionally published, and only came to light centuries later. This book posits that Julian got it into Margery's hands, something that is historically plausible given that Margery definitely did visit Julian.

Speaking of, Margery's story has the same historical plausibility. More is known of Margery's personal life, as she told it in her book, but her emotions and specific incidents are expanded upon. One thing this book does that I really like is that the truth or otherwise of the visions isn't really examined - any inference that the visions were just hallucinations is implicit. Julian was literally dying, and Margery exhibits signs of mental illness. But the book isn't here to judge, just to lay out the facts and assumptions of these women and their lives, and I really admire it for that. The other cool thing it does is that it interweaves Julian and Margery's narratives, right up to the point where they meet, which is presented as a dialogue between the two. It's a neat narrative device, and the payoff where they actually have a conversation and talk about their ideas and shared experiences was really sweet! I loved this book, and if you're the kind of person who vibes with weird medieval ladies, you will also love it.

Next up, CHERUB's back, and James is picking up on an old mission.

[silverfoxstole]

Fic Writer Meme

Not been tagged but I’m going to play anyway. I’m also going to expand beyond Ao3 because I have a lot of fic elsewhere too.

AO3 Name: silverfoxstole. It’s the same at ff.net and I would have changed it at A Teaspoon and an Open Mind but I no longer have the related email address so because I was useless at thinking up usernames at the time I signed up there I’m still under my first name, Suzanne.

Fandoms: Doctor Who, Hornblower, Sherlock Holmes and Phantom of the Opera.

Number of Fics: 108. (45 at Ao3, 41 at ff.net and 22 at the Teaspoon. Some are cross-posted so I’ve only counted them once.)

Fic I spent the most time on: Beyond the Green Baize Door/The Garish Light of Day. I wrote and posted a chapter once a week for two years.

Fic I spent the least time on: A Recommendation. My shortest fic, written in about five minutes probably.

Longest fic: Despatches. Clocks in at 435, 281 words. And it’s technically not finished, my muse has just wandered off. I suppose you could say it doesn’t count as one fic as it’s a collection of smaller ones, in which case Garish Light would take the crown at 244, 084 words.

Shortest fic: A Recommendation. 146 words.

Most hits: Jottings from a Doctor’s Journal on ff.net at 95, 511. For a one-shot it’s First Blood in the same place with 5507.

Most kudos: Shafts of Light, at 158.

Total Word Count: (deep breath) Ao3: 1, 044, 086 words. Ff.net: 598, 166. Teaspoon: 72, 391. That’s 1, 714, 643 words over a period of nearly 20 years.

Favorite Fic I Wrote: Oh, God. This must be like trying to choose a favourite child! I am still very fond of my rather silly Eight-and-Charley-meet-Paul-and-India-and-chaos-ensues fic Mistaken Identity and its sequel Unreality, which I wrote way back in 2004. It’s the one and only time I have ever fictionalised real people but it was fun to write and having reread it recently after many years I do still like it. It’s difficult to choose otherwise; it can vary from day to day.

Fic You Want To Rewrite/Expand On: If I ever summoned the inclination I’d probably rewrite some of my early Hornblower stuff as it was written a long time ago and is a bit too fluffy for my tastes now.

Share a Bit of a WIP or story idea you are planning on: I have an idea for some Eight, Liv and Helen fluff but it’s just started percolating in my brain so I don’t have much to share beyond the fact that it will probably contain a library and some snow.

I wasn’t tagged so I won’t tag anyone else but join in if you feel like it!