#this wasn't meant to have any plot anyway and rather meant as a way for me to remember what I planned for Altani's special echo power! woo!

[meximango]

Day 27 - Memory - Altani - G

Summary: Altani’s echo manifested differently than her fellow warriors of light.

Ok so this one is basically just a summary so I don’t forget an idea I’ve had for a while, lol. Just like Krile’s echo gives her fancy empathy powers, I tweaked most of my WoLs’ echoes to give them a bit of extra flavor. Luvon’s was touched on/implied a bit in ‘tempest’ this year, and Cahsi’s was in ffxivwrite2022 I believe, I can’t remember the prompt, but it’s on ao3. So it’s time for Altani! 

--

Altani first saw The Starshower in her dreams around the time she met Mogren, almost got her brother killed, and that the entire village determined she was destined to be their next priestess and medium. It was a lively few weeks for sure, everything interconnected. She wasn’t even ten summers old yet, but even so, she understood deep in her bones that it was a turning point in her life. The gate was locked behind her, and whatever had awoken inside her was there to stay. Her life from then on would be full of deceit–lies she had to tell to others, and lies she kept all for herself. 

She had no idea what her dreams meant. That they were a memory. That they would provide her an advantage on her path to greatness. The dreams were scary, and far too real, and instead of offering her comfort as she woke crying and screaming, the elders would praise her for unlocking the ability to see into death itself. They’d ruffle her hair and pat her on the back, telling her to keep training so she could convene with her ancestors and grant them wisdom. She kept up the farce for the sake of Mogren, who’d been mistaken as a spirit Altani regularly spoke to, but it was so much less and more than that. 

In Altani’s head, The Starshower was always Capitalized, because it was very Important. She didn’t know why, but it was a feeling in her tummy she refused to ignore. 

Sometimes she’d wake and remember in perfect clarity as the sky rained fire and desperate screams reverberated all around her. Never was she able to tear her gaze from the sky above, to witness who was with her, what the landscape looked like. It was just the dark red night full of smoke and embers, blazing bright trails falling toward her. It had to be stars. What else could be falling? What could cause such a thing to happen? What if the dream was an omen of things to come? What if it sucked her inside, and she became one of those falling stars, burning up before she could even hit the ground? 

Other times, Altani would wake with a sense of unease, far more tired than was reasonable, completely tangled in her sheets as sweat coated her brow, and she just Knew that she had dreamt of The Starshower. 

It would only make sense years later, after speaking with the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, that she wasn’t alone. There were others who witnessed The Starshower, and it granted them special gifts. That her nightmares were actually a boon, a gift from the goddess of the star herself. But it would be many years before that point, and not even Mogren could understand her plight as a child. 

She turned it into a game, pretending The Starshower really was giving her the ability to delve into the lifestream and pluck stories and messages from long-dead tribe members. Each star that fell was just another of her ancestors coming by to say hello. They were already dead, so they couldn’t feel pain! The screams were actually high-pitched laughs. Her ancestors sure were silly, weren’t they, pulling a prank like that on her. It made lying to everyone easier, and sleeping became a little bit easier too. She was brave, and no way was The Starshower going to overpower her! The dreams became less frequent as she got older, and instead a few other types of visions manifested in her. It wasn’t often, but it did help with her priestess duties. 

Every so often, when someone talked to her–most often when reminiscing about something from their past–she’d suddenly be swept away and forced to bear witness to the moment they were talking about. It was as though she were there with them, as though she could alter reality if she just reached out and tried (she couldn’t, of course. She was an invisible entity able only to watch, but in the beginning she had wanted to find out. Thank Hydaelyn it was just a memory; to warp reality would have been too much power for a child who wished to have control over something in her life to have.) She got to witness the truth, even if the teller couldn’t remember it correctly themself or were lying for one reason or another. The downside was appearing as though she had been spaced out for a few minutes, followed by a wicked headache, but it was easy enough to write that one to the villagers as ‘divine communication’. She often used this to her advantage later, recalling the collected memories to help give merit to her own lies that she wove for the villagers about their dead loved ones and advice for their future. The best lies had a grain of truth to them, after all. Rarer, by quite a margin, were visions Altani had no idea how to explain or what they even were. It wouldn’t be until her trip to Norvrandt, well into her adventuring career, that she would begin to understand. Once in a blue moon, something would trigger her to view whoever she was looking at or speaking to in a different light. It started like a memory, with her surroundings fading out and transporting her somewhere else, but instead of seeing the person the vision was about, she saw someone else. Altani didn’t have the gift of aethersight, but she had a feeling, an instinct, that she learned to accept. The vision was about a different version of the person. Sometimes they looked very similar to nearly identical to the person in question, while other times, their race, gender, skin or fur color–everything about them was different. Except the eyes. That was the one factor that didn’t seem to change. Whatever eye color the present person who triggered the vision had, there would be at least a hint of that same color in there for the person in the vision. Even if they changed into a creature with limited eye colors! As much as she’d hoped this was perhaps the key to unlocking real medium powers so she could talk to her ancestors, it wasn’t meant to be. She never met any of her ancestors that way, as most of visions she saw weren’t of au ra, nor did they take place in the Azim Steppe. The second type of vision was far more confusing and far less useful to her, so Altani didn’t much care for them, waiting for them to pass and observing only with a passing interest, for the most part. It was strange, being privy to other versions of people she met, when those same people had no idea about or access to those alternate realities. She tried not to dwell too much on those. 

Some part of her wished she could have seen another Altani, though. Would they share her same gifts, her same curses? Would they be strong or weak, a natural crafter or a clumsy disaster? Were they a hunter, or a fisher, or a teacher? Would they become a parent, a merchant, a leader? Was their life a lie, forced to pretend they’re something they’re not to keep their village happy and their friend safe? Maybe they led a normal, mundane life, and would grow up to be nobody of import. Altani’s visions didn’t work on herself, so she’d never know what any other Altani was doing except herself. Maybe it was better that way, so she couldn’t become jealous of a life she couldn’t have. 

When she became an adventurer, met her fellow Warriors of Light, and discovered they had similar experiences with The Starshower and being forced into people’s memories, she hid her relief behind false bravado and a strong clap on the back. It was like the weight of Hydaelyn had been lifted from her shoulders, learning her affliction had such a tiny, unassuming name as the echo. That there was an entire group of people studying it, and that this thing she’d been confused and frightened about and taking advantage of for so long already was considering a blessing from the goddess Hydaelyn herself. Hear, Feel, Think, indeed.This gift was shared among a select few, and they were often destined for greatness, which was all she strived for these days. She wanted to be strong enough to protect everyone without the power to do it themselves. She knew what it felt like to be powerless and scared, and so she would ensure to keep others from those awful feelings as much as she could.

While the others shared in most of the same echo traits, none of them ever saw those other versions of people or at least made no mention of it, so Altani kept that close to her chest. Only Mogren knew about that little trait, and they’d probably forgotten about it by now, since she only mentioned it a few times when she was younger and never again. 

Luckily, she’d never had to deal with seeing other versions of her family of friends, but of course that changed when she started adventuring with those others who shared in the gift. Maybe it just triggered more easily for those who’d also seen The Starshower? 

During one of her travels with Luvon, she’d had a vision that couldn’t have been of his past, as it took place in a gigantic forest unlike anything that existed on the mainland. Small streams of unnatural, sickly white light passed through the foliage and dappled the ground. She saw a young qiqirn and an older one carving tablets together. The younger had a yellow-green glint of excitement in their eyes as they speculated about what lay in the ruins, and what their home had been like before a flood of some kind. A fear years later is when that ‘memory’ clicked into place. Her moment of breakthrough came through after she was transported to the First. When all major threats were done being taken care of with Cahsi and Luvon, she was helping the Qitari unearth their history. Among the group in Hopl's Stopple, she noticed the pair she’d seen in her vision. Huh. So the person she’d seen in that vision was not a qiqirn at all, but their equivalent on the First, a qitari. Someone from a completely different shard… She observed them from afar, not wanting to barge in with nonsensical questions, but seeing how the little qitari acted and interacted with others, she could definitely see the similarities between them and Luvon. It was incredibly strange, but she’d come to realize by now that nothing was too strange for this universe. 

Despite having fragments of the same soul, they were still their own people. She’d accepted that already with all the visions she’d seen throughout the years. Nobody acted exactly like their other version’s self, even if there were similarities. Ardbert was pretty different from Cahsi, for example. Altani could have smacked herself realizing one of her echo visions of either Cahsi or Ardbert were not about the memory of their meeting and showdown, but rather showing her that they were apparently versions of one another. That news sure might have come in handy before they had to defeat Emet-Selch–but then again, maybe not. Maybe it would have been even harder or weirder for Cahsi to let go. She’d made a close friend of the warrior in her time on the first, and had taken it hard when he had to leave. Altani had finally been able to meet him a few times before the end, thanks to some ingenious spellwork and alchemy on Cahsi’s part. It was sad that he had to rejoin Cahsi, but it was his own choice, and Ardbert had already been dead for so long, so that’s probably why he was able to do so in the first place. Altani wasn’t about to subscribe to the now-dead ascian’s idea that rejoining all shards of the soul into one was the only way to truly exist and lead a worthwhile life. From what she’d seen, other shards were doing just fine for themselves–independently! 

That said, she was pretty sure if she introduced Luvon to his qitari counterpart, that nothing would happen unless one of them were to die. Maybe. She certainly didn’t want to test that, it was a horrifying thought. They’d probably stay two separate entities, none the wiser of their status as parts of one larger, more powerful soul at one point.

Really, this was all a lot to take in and think about, and nobody she wanted to discuss it with. It gave her a headache. One day, she’d figure this out with her friends. Maybe it was selfish to keep this from them, but she’d seen the heartbreak Cahsi went through with Ardbert, and she just felt it was best at this time. They had enough worries on their plate as it was. 

[ckret2]

Chapter 22 of human Bill's still putting up with being the Mystery Shack's prisoner (title tbd), featuring: Dipper's having nightmares about his spirit floating out of his body, just like the Bipper incident. (He's very sure they're only nightmares.) And Bill, kind and generous muse that he is, would love to help, and definitely isn't offering for secret evil reasons. After all, how could a dream demon benefit from telling his enemies how to control their dreams?

Even though Dipper already knew, intellectually, that dreaming about Bill didn't mean Bill was in his dreams, getting immediate physical proof was a relief. Any time he had another nightmare, all he had to do was get out of bed, go find Bill—sleeping, drinking, reading, meditating, watching TV, staring out a window—and see for himself that there was no way Bill could have been in his head.

So tonight, when he "woke" into another Bipper nightmare, his first instinct was to go gripe at Bill about it.

He'd floated through the bedroom door and hovered halfway down the stairs before he remembered that since he was currently having the Bipper Nightmare, dreaming that he was floating ghostlike outside his body, it meant he wasn't actually awake and he couldn't gripe at the real Bill; but then he decided maybe he'd feel better if he ranted at dream Bill anyway.

The TV glowed from the living room. At this time of night, it could be Abuelita or Bill. Dipper's spectral socked feet settled on the floor at the bottom of the stairs, he turned toward the sofa—and froze.

Sitting on the sofa, legs curled feet-on-thighs in lotus position, was Bill—and he was surrounded by a brilliant light, yellow-golden against the dream fog gray. Like the halo of sunlight around an eclipse, or like a radioactive mass close enough to melt your eyes, or like an explosion rushing closer. The light danced around Bill like solar flares. Dipper had to squint his eyes against the light.

"Whoa," Dipper said.

The light dimmed to a faint yellow aura as Bill turned toward him. Dipper nearly jumped out of his skin, except that he was already out of his skin. Bill said, "'Whoa' what?"

No one ever saw Dipper during his Bipper nightmares. (But then, he supposed, it made sense if he dreamed that Bill could see him, didn't it? Since he'd been the only one able to see Dipper after he stole his body.) Dipper gestured vaguely at Bill. "You're, uh. Glowing."

"Aw, flattering." Bill laughed. "You look like a zombie trying to figure out if he wants to return to the land of the living. Shouldn't you be asleep?"

"Ha ha," Dipper said flatly.

"What, another nightmare? Are you here to tell me how your subconscious is my responsibility again?"

"Shut up." Imaginary dream Bill was just as annoying as the real one; but Dipper decided he'd feel pretty dumb for yelling at "Bill" for invading Dipper's dream while Dipper was still dreaming. (Maybe Dipper's subconscious mind was using the form of a snarky Bill to tell Dipper that he needed to seize control of his dreams rather than blame somebody else for them? That Bill might have caused Dipper's recurring nightmares, but only Dipper could do the work to end them? Huh. He'd look into that when he woke up.)

His gaze drifted to the television, which was displaying a man hunched over a bizarrely-angled desk in a black-and-white movie. (He could somehow tell it was black and white, even though colors were already muted and grayish during his Bipper nightmares.) It was like seeing a dream within a dream. "What are you watching?"

"The Counterfeit of Dr. Calligraphy," Bill said. "A hypnotist sends letters to a sleepwalker that have subliminal messages concealed in the handwriting. He brainwashes the sleepwalker into making fake money in his sleep. It's a comedy."

It didn't look very comedic. Dipper wondered how he'd dreamed this plot up. Anxiety about waking up from one dream into another dream, combined with memories of counterfeiting money last summer?

He leaned against the doorframe and watched the movie long enough to confirm it was not, in fact, a comedy, but rather some kind of gloomy noir-ish silent film; then sighed in boredom. His subconscious couldn't even imagine up a fun movie. "I'm going back to my body," he muttered, pushing off the ground and hovering back up the stairs.

Bill, eyes half-lidded, didn't look up from the screen as he sleepily muttered, "Mmkay."

It took a long moment before he said, "You're going to your what?" He leaned out of the living room and looked up the stairs; but Dipper was long gone.

Maybe he'd misheard "bed." He settled back in front of the TV; but he wasn't paying attention to the movie now.

####

"You look exhausted," Mabel said, ruffling Dipper's messy hair with both hands. "Did you stay up late reading again?"

"No," Dipper groaned. "I just slept badly. I had another Bipper nightmare. I dreamed about Bill making fun of me and watching a boring movie."

"Aw, Dipper. I'm sorry," Mabel said sympathetically. She fixed her headband for the day in the bedroom mirror and pulled on her shoes. "I dreamed about a car race where all the drivers are kittens!"

"Oh yeah?"

"It was really intense! Two of the cars crashed," Mabel said. "Everyone was okay though. The drivers were saved by a firetruck with Dalmatian puppy firefighters!"

When they made it down to the kitchen, Bill was already there, sipping burned coffee with his eyes closed. "Hey, twerps." He peeled one eye open a slit just long enough to figure out which set of twerp footsteps belonged to Mabel, and held his coffee mug in her direction. "Top me off?"

"You got it!" Mabel retrieved her pitcher of Mabel Juice from the fridge, refilled Bill's coffee with it, and poured herself a cup.

"What's today's flavor?"

"Blue!"

"That's exactly what I need." Bill took a deep drink, spat a small plastic horse on the table, and sipped more carefully.

"You look exhausted, too." Mabel poured herself a bowl of cereal and milk. "Did you have a nightmare?"

"I don't have nightmares; nightmares have me," Bill said.

Dipper, the person whose nightmares had Bill, scowled and leaned against the stove to wait for Bill to leave so he could get breakfast.

"But no—I was up late watching a German expressionist cinema marathon," Bill went on. "They don't make 'em like that anymore. Which is good, because I prefer my movies with colors and music; but there's nothing quite like watching five movies in a row about going insane in the middle of the night on twenty-four hours without sleep. Second most likely experience to make you see phantom spiders crawl across you skin." He cracked open an eye again and tried to steal Mabel's cereal. She smacked his hand with her spoon and stole it back.

He dragged himself out of his chair to get some proper food. "Get the fridge?" Mabel opened the door for him. As he rummaged around for something appealing, he glanced back over his shoulder at Dipper. "You missed the punchline, by the way."

Dipper started. "The what?"

"On Dr. Calligraphy," Bill said. "You went back to bed before the ending. The sleepwalker's counterfeits are so good that nobody believes the investigator from the treasury when he says they're fakes. He gets hauled to the looney bin—and then realizes the handwriting in all the letters from his boss is the same as the hypnotist's." Bill laughed. "I told you it was a comedy, didn't I?" He dumped some bagels, squirt cheese, and pickled jalapeños on the kitchen counter, then glanced at Dipper again. "What's with that look? Don't you get it?" He sighed and rolled his open eye. "Okay, so the joke is that both the main character and the audience will never know if he was set up, driven insane, or always insane—"

"I didn't go 'back to bed'," Dipper said, stomach twisting. "I—never got out of bed. I didn't watch a movie last night."

"You didn't," Bill said skeptically. And then, studying Dipper's face, repeated, "You didn't?"

Mabel was staring between Dipper and Bill. To Dipper, she said, "Was... that the boring movie in your dream?"

Dipper didn't reply. He didn't want to say anything with Bill listening—not when he didn't know what Bill knew. Or what Bill might have done. Maybe I just heard the movie from upstairs, Dipper thought—and might have believed, if not for the fact that it was a silent film.

Bill was silent for a long moment—longer than Dipper felt safe with. Like a cat sizing up its prey. "Well, how about that," Bill said. His smile was not reassuring. "Looks like Dr. Calligraphy isn't the only one with a sleepwalker on his hands."

####

"Do I sleepwalk?" Dipper demanded.

Bartholomew stared at him in perfect silence. "You can't tell," he said, "on account of the fact that I can't move; but I just did a confused double-take in my head."

"Do I sleepwalk!" Dipper repeated. "I was—I think I was sleepwalking last night—? If I wasn't sleepwalking, then that means Bill was—was in my head somehow, and I don't know how or what he was doing in there—so either he was in my head or I was somehow downstairs, or—I don't know, maybe I was out of my head—but I really need to know which it was, and Mabel was asleep last night so you're the only one who would know—"

"Dipper," Mabel said, shutting the door behind them. "Hold on. If Bill was doing something in your head, why would he just tell you about it at breakfast by spoiling the end of the movie?"

"I don't know!" Dipper said. "To terrify me? To let me know what he can do?"

"But if we know he can do it, that means we can stop him from doing it," Mabel said. "It doesn't make sense—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Bartholomew said. "I wasn't up here last night. I was watching a picture show marathon through the living room vent."

Mabel laughed. "You call them picture shows. You're so old."

"'Move-y' sounds stupid and I'm willing to die on this hill."

"Was I there?" Dipper asked. "Did I come downstairs last night?"

"Yeah, during Dr. Calligraphy," Bartholomew said. "I could hear you talking to Bill. You said he was glowing. Which stood out to me as kind of weird, since he's always glowing." 

Dipper heaved a sigh of relief. "Okay. Great. So I was sleepwalking. That's..." He paused, gave Bartholomew a funny look, and said, "Let's... let's unpack the thing about Bill glowing later."

"Suit yourself."

He looked at Mabel. "I was having a Bipper dream. Do you think I always sleepwalk during those dreams? Maybe that's why they're always about me wandering around at night?"

"Maybe?" Mabel shivered. "Augh, does that mean whenever you dreamed about trying to come to me for help, you were actually just standing over my bed watching me sleep?"

Dipper dragged his hands down his face. "Mabel. Sometimes I visited the neighbors' houses."

"Dipper!" Mabel laughed, but there was a nervous edge to it. "Have you been walking around in the street in your pajamas?"

"Maybe it's not that bad. Maybe sometimes I'm sleepwalking but sometimes I stay in bed. Last night I really wanted to go yell at Bill, maybe that... got me on my feet?" He dropped onto his bed, chin in his hands.

Mabel sat on her bed with her cereal, and handed over a banana she'd grabbed for Dipper. "We can start locking the bedroom door," she said. "So if you do start sleepwalking, at least you can't get out."

"What if I unlock it in my sleep?"

"Maybe Grunkle Ford could teach me the anti-door curse he put on Bill! And I could cast it on you at night so you can't get out of the room?"

Dipper shook his head. "That's not a long-term solution. What about when we go home? Or what if I need to go to the bathroom?" He gestured emphatically with his banana as he spoke. "I realized something last night, Mabel: I'm sick of these nightmares and I'm sick of just putting up with them. They were bad enough when they were just in my head, but now they have to affect me in real life, too? No! I'm just—not gonna have them anymore."

"Yeah!" Mabel cheered. "I like that attitude! I'm with you. I'm sick of being freaked out by my dreams, too. Do you know how hard it is to rescue kittens from a car crash when you've got to stop and ask yourself if this is a Mabeland thing?"

Dipper hesitated. "Um... probably pretty hard?"

"We'll do it together. We'll both stop having nightmares." She paused. "How?"

"I... don't know yet." Dipper sighed. "Our therapist's given me a few tools to cope with nightmares, but they haven't stopped them. I'm thinking our best bet is magic."

They looked at Bartholomew.

"Sorry," he said. "Outside my wheelhouse. I specialize in creepy dolls and necromancy."

"There's gotta be something in this town," Dipper said. "Maybe dream catchers? Do dream catchers actually work?"

"What about that spell to enter other people's dreams?" Mabel asked. "We could take turns entering each other's dreams to help fight each other's nightmares! That would totally work, right?"

"Except then we'd have to take turns not getting any sleep."

There was a knock on the attic door. Mabel called "Yeah?" and hopped to her feet to open it.

Bill was leaning with his elbow against the doorframe, cheek in his hand, one ankle hooked over the other, grinning broadly. "Couldn't help but overhear that you're having some dream troubles! Here, my card!" He handed Mabel a paper towel on which he'd poorly painted his triangle self with coffee grounds and signed his name in an alien language. "Bill Cipher, professional dream demon—at your service."

Dipper said, "We hung up a 'no solicitors' sign."

"I saw it and I ignored it."

"Bill," Mabel groaned. "Get out of here!" She tried to block him with her arms. 

He dodged around her to enter the room with a laugh like this was some playground game, and then immediately tripped over a cardboard box. He recovered his balance by grappling with Mabel's bag of mini golf clubs and drew one out to use as a cane so smoothly it almost looked like he'd planned it that way. "Hey, hold on—I'm here to help!"

"Right," Dipper scoffed. "Like when you wanted to help me unlock that laptop."

"Or when you offered to help me extend summer."

"Or when you were going to 'help' our dimension 'party'?"

Bill said, "I did extend your summer and I did throw a party."

Dipper asked, "And the laptop?"

"No excuse for that! I was just lying to you, kid." Bill laughed.

"Yeah, no," Mabel said, "we don't want your help. No offense, but your help is super evil. Get out of our room."

"No." Bill plopped down in the middle of the floor, arms and legs crossed, mini golf club lain across his knees, smirking defiantly up at Mabel. "Not until you hear me out."

"No! Go. Scoot. Get out." Mabel attempted to shove him toward the door.

"Try it! I weigh more than both of you combined! Physics is on my side! I'm master of this room."

Mabel only succeeded in knocking him onto his side. Bill prodded her back with the handle of the club and said, "Seriously, just listen to me and then I'll go. I'm more or less the reason you're having nightmares in the first place, aren't I? C'mon! How can I make it up to you if you won't even hear me out?"

Mabel paused in her onslaught. "You wanna make it up to us?" Dipper rolled his eyes.

"Sure, why not? Do you think I wanted to traumatize a couple of kids? You just happened to stumble in the way of a force beyond human comprehension! Hey, I stuck you in a paradise bubble, does that scream 'deliberate attempt at psychological torture' to you?"

"You were going to kill me," Dipper said.

"You even left his suicide letter," Mabel said.

"Which was wrong of me," Bill said patiently, with an air that made it sound like he was the one who had to explain this to them, "but I can't undo that unless you want to give me that time tape you're hoarding. On the other hand, I can do something about the nightmares. Just hear me out."

Dipper had been climbing to the end of his bed to try to get past Bill and escape for adult reinforcements, but stopped to stand on the mattress and glare down at Bill. "And then once we've heard you out, you won't leave until we've accepted your offer—"

"There is no offer," Bill said. "I'm giving you information. No 'deals,' no favors, no magic, nothing. Just information. It's your business what you do with it. If you want to throw it away, I've already done my part!"

Dipper hesitated. "I don't trust you."

"You don't have to trust me. Go verify everything I tell you with someone else. Heck, you can even go ask Stanford about it, he'll back up everything I'm about to say."

The fact that Bill was suggesting he talk to Ford threw Dipper off. He glanced at Mabel to see what she thought.

Bill took the momentary silence as a victory. Smugly, he said, "Lucid dreaming."

Dipper blinked in surprise. "Hey, I know what that is. It's when you're dreaming and know you're dreaming, right?"

"You obviously don't know any more about it than that, or else you wouldn't be having nightmares." Now that Mabel wasn't attacking him and Dipper was actually listening, Bill perched on a crate and crossed an ankle over the other knee, getting comfortable. "Knowing you're asleep is step one of lucid dreaming. The next step is controlling your dreams. If you've fully mastered the techniques of lucid dreaming, you'll essentially be a god inside your own sleeping mind."

"Like we did in Grunkle Stan's head!" Mabel said. "When we beat you with kittens."

"And eye lasers," Dipper added.

"And stomach lasers!"

"And 80s music."

"And hamster balls—"

The corners of Bill's mouth twitched a little further down with each sentence. He forced a smile back on. "Right! Haha! You kids." There was friendly good cheer in his voice and wrath in his eyes. "Exactly like that. Except you weren't asleep at the time. That wasn't lucid dreaming, that was imagining. It's a lot easier to do inside of someone else's dreams. You've got to learn an entirely new set of techniques if you want to do it in your own."

Dipper dropped down to sit on his bed again. "Like what kind of techniques? Does it involve meditating, or...?"

Bill laughed. "And here I thought you didn't trust anything I had to say! What, do you want me to teach you how to do it now?"

"No."

"Didn't think so!" Bill grabbed a sparkly pen off Mabel's bedside stand and a scrap of notepaper off their table. "I'll give you some names of authors. Human authors. Experts on the psychology and spirituality of dreams. And if you don't want to trust these authors because I recommended them, fine, just find their books in the library and anything sorted on the same shelves will teach you the same techniques. But master lucid dreaming, and your dreams will be your playground. No more nightmares."

Bill offered the paper to Mabel, but his smirk was aimed at Dipper. "Just like I promised: no magic. Nothing that could invite the big scary dream demon into your precious little heads. All I'm telling you is where to learn your own species's skills. If you don't believe me, go ask for yourself."

####

Sitting back in the guest room's desk chair, Ford frowned at the list of authors Mabel had handed him and stroked his chin thoughtfully. The kids sat on Ford's bed and waited for him to render judgment on the Latest Bill Nonsense.

"That look doesn't look like a good look," Mabel said. "Is Bill up to something bad?"

"On the contrary, I can't think of any way that your learning how to lucid dream could benefit Bill," Ford said. "In fact, if anything, it would be actively detrimental to him. That's what has me so puzzled."

Dipper asked, "What do you mean, actively detrimental?"

"Lucid dreaming is the first line of defense against Bill's mental tricks," Ford said. "By itself, it isn't enough to drive Bill from a dreamer's head; but instantly telling the difference between dreams and reality takes the power out of most of his simplest psychic illusions." He nodded toward Dipper. "For instance, knowing you were dreaming might have saved you entirely from Bill taking over your body."

Dipper blinked. "Wait. What do you mean?"

Ford stared at him. "The computer," he said. "When Bill waited for you to nod off and used a dream to make you think the computer was going to self-destruct."

"He did what?"

"Dipper, Fiddleford never installed a self-destruct sequence on that computer," Ford said. "I... thought you figured that out?"

Dipper stared at Ford. He slid to the floor, lay down, and stared at the ceiling. Mabel leaned forward to pat his head.

Ford did not let himself grin at Dipper's reaction. Dipper had been through a traumatic experience, and finding out there was something else he personally could have done to avoid it all had to be devastating, and therefore—therefore—his dramatic reaction was not funny.

Ford cleared his throat and politely avoided calling attention to Dipper. "And—actively controlling your own dreams won't prevent Bill from controlling them as well; but it arms you with the same weapons he has—just like when you drove him out of Stanley's head. Plus, if there's anything in your dream you can't control, you can be surer that it's Bill's influence rather than a product of your own subconscious. Which... is what makes it so strange that Bill would suggest you look into lucid dreaming. I'm not sure what to make of that."

"Maybe he just told us to be nice?" Mabel asked. "Maybe he really is trying to fix some of his mistakes."

Dipper raised a brow. "Do you really believe that?"

Mabel briefly looked thoughtful; then cracked up laughing. "Okay, I tried! But nope, not for one second!"

Ford chuckled. "Attagirl." He propped his chin in his hand as he thought. "There's a chance that Bill might not be up to anything actively nefarious. I strongly suspect he can't invade others' dreams in his current form—and if that's true, it might not make any difference to him if you know how to defend yourself against attacks he can't even use. And the only thing he's told you is to go look up lucid dreaming—a technique invented by humans, for humans. He might be trying to ingratiate himself with us by offering up cheap information he suspects you could have found on your own."

Mabel said, "So he told us to be nice, for selfish reasons."

"I think that's the most likely explanation. He likes to offer little scraps of wisdom to his 'students'—and then hold them over your head later." Ford hated the possibility that Bill was trying to adopt his niece and nephew as his newest "students"—Mabel especially—but dancing around the uncomfortable possibility rather than pointing it out would just leave them more vulnerable to his tricks.

"That sounds like him," Mabel sighed. "Like the free birthday cake thing."

Ford tried to remember whether he'd mentioned how he'd gotten his cake when they'd been in Portland. "He told you about that, did he?"

"Yeah. While feeling bad for himself about not getting to go to your birthday party."

"Ha."

Dipper said, "So... you don't think there's any risk in learning how to lucid dream? Except that Bill might start bragging about how good he was to suggest it?"

Ford glanced again over the list of authors Bill had given Mabel. "Well... I don't immediately recognize any of these names; but I can double-check to make sure none of them are affiliated with Bill's known protégés or worshipers. But with that risk aside, I'm sure learning about lucid dreaming would be good for you."

"Yes!" Mabel pumped a fist in the air, startling Ford and Dipper. "Time for Mabeland Two, Electric Boogaloo: Democracy Edition! Founded by the people, for the people, with one hundred percent less psychic police states and zero triangle dictators! All the disco coconuts and yarn castles you already know and love, but this time with open borders and free speech!" She ran from the guest room, opened a door, slammed a door; opened the door again, and yelled, "Grunkle Fooord, can you give us a ride to the library!"

Dipper grimaced and looked at Ford. "Uh... Should we be worried about that?"

Ford considered that with pursed lips, then stood and grabbed his keys. "If she starts napping excessively, let me know so we can stage an intervention."

####

Mabel trudged into the living room, lay face down on the carpet between Bill and the TV, and said, "I hate you."

"Sure," Bill said agreeably.

"I mean it. I really hate you." And she said it with such vitriol, such vehemence, that Bill was absolutely positive she didn't hate him at all and would probably never be able to hate him again.

"All right, I'll play," Bill said. "What did I do this time?"

Mabel held a thick, dusty book over her head. It was titled Sleeping Awake: A Meditation and Study Guide for the Initiate Oneironaut. "You gave me homework over the summer."

"Oh, is that it? That's the limit, is it? That's the worst thing I could possibly do to you."

"Yes," Mabel said to the carpet. "It's completely unforgivable." She paused. She lifted her head. "Um. You... do know we're joking, right? The joke is that we're pretending homework is worse than all the other stuff you did, when it definitely isn't? I'm stiiill not exactly sure what your moral compass looks like."

Bill said, "Relax, kid." Bill did not say that he understood that they were joking. "Here, lemme see how painful this is." He plucked the book from Mabel's hand, flipped through a few pages, and grimaced. "Oh wow. Oh, wow, this is drier than the Atacama. This isn't a 'meditation,' it's a textbook. Do they really spend a whole chapter talking about Frederik van Eeden? Gag me with a spoon." He flipped to the index, muttering, "Does this thing even go into milam, or are they completely reinventing the wheel?"

Mabel propped her chin in her hands. "Is it that bad?"

"Well, at first glance, it's not promising." He flipped toward the middle to skim some of the recommended exercises. "Pfff. I think the closest it'll get you to lucid dreaming is boring you to sleep."

Mabel groaned. "Dipper and I checked out like a dozen books on dreams and that was the least boring-looking one."

Bill shut the book and studied the cover. It showed a lush fantasy world with rainbows and colorful planets in the sky. "You know what they say about judging a book by its cover?"

"I know, I know." Mabel rolled over and flopped onto her back, staring at the ceiling. "I guess I'll try reading one of the other books." She let out a sigh. And then, deciding she hadn't expressed herself properly, she let out an even louder, deeper sigh.

Bill laughed, then considered the cover of Sleeping Awake again. "Ahh, what the heck," he muttered, "what else am I gonna do with myself today?" He waved the book at Mabel. "Hey. What if I read through some of them for you? Let you know which ones are a waste of time and which ones might be helpful?"

Mabel considered that. "Seriously? It's a lot of books and they all look boring."

"Sure, why not? If it's too boring to stand, I'll quit. But oneironautics is one of my specialities, I'll probably find the contents more interesting than you would. And, anyway—" Bill glanced away from Mabel self-consciously, voice dropping a tad, "anyway, I recommended lucid dreaming to fix a problem I caused, didn't I? I get why you kids won't let me teach you how to lucid dream—but it's not fair if I throw a couple names at you, make you do all the hard work, and pat myself on the back for helping out. The least I can do is endure a little boredom."

"Aw, Bill..." Mabel offered him a warm smile.

Bill looked at the ceiling. "Don't look at me like that, jeez. You're a sap, you know that?"

"You're the sap! You're like a tree: all bark on the outside and sap on the inside."

"I'll kill you if you ever say that again."

"I'll be right back!" Mabel sprinted upstairs; and a minute later, trudged back down, carrying a double armload of books. "Here." She dumped them in Bill's lap. A couple spilled on the floor.

"Whoa!" Bill scrambled to catch the escapees, and dropped another one. "Is this all of them?"

"All except the one Dipper's reading. The Encyclopedia of Dreams or something."

"That sounds like a waste of time. There's about as much overlap between dream interpretation and lucid dreaming as there is between astrology and astronomy. But hey, toss it my way when he's done with it. I wanna see what it says about dreams with pyramids and all-seeing eyes."

"Your ego's so big."

"Big as a universe, kid!" He started stacking the books beside him on the sofa, setting aside a promising-looking one that mentioned "Tibetan Dream Yoga" in the subtitle.

"I'll let him know. Thanks for the help, Bill!" Her afternoon now freed up, Mabel went upstairs to call Candy and Grenda and see what they were up to.

Bill listened as her footsteps ascended. He waited to hear the attic bedroom door shut.

And only then did he allow himself a small triumphant giggle.

He adored that girl. She was so trusting. He'd never have gotten his hands on this kind of educational material without her help. Finding her the most short-attention-span-friendly book was the least he could do as thanks; maybe he'd go the extra mile, leave bookmarks on the most useful chapters. Let her know just how good he could be to the people who did what he told them to.

He turned off the TV, cracked open the first book, and settled in to re-teach himself how to control dreams with a human mind.

####

(Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed, I'd really appreciate a comment!)

[finniestoncrane]

Two Heads Are Better...

KTJL!Boomer x Fem!Reader, word count: 500 this is completely cheesy smut with no plot whatsoever but please enjoy reader and boomerang giving king shark the time of his life for no other reason than he deserves it 💙 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: oral sex, two dicks YEAH, idiot boomer my beloved

George's pace got faster and more aggressive as his own arousal grew. He was proud of himself, smugly satisfied with his skill-level, which meant even the act of giving any pleasure made him feel exponentially good about himself. Though he really did prefer getting his cock sucked rather than slobbering over someone else's dick, if he had to choose.

In the throes of his passion, and down to the fact that he had begun to grin wide, his teeth pressed down a little too hard on the sensitive skin, grazing along the head of the cock in his mouth.

"Be careful!"

The deep, booming voice was stern, disappointed more than angry.

"You do not need to approach this with violence and speed. It is not a competition, Boomerang."

Nananue took time between heavy, ecstasy laden breaths to chastise Digger. Looking up at him, George let one of Nanaue's cocks fall from his lips with a saliva enhanced 'pop', letting it bounce mid-air as strands of drool fell from it. With a familiar shit-eating grin, and his hand holding onto Nanaue's length at the base, he spoke.

"Yeah, but if it was, Sharko... who would be winning?"

George glanced at you from the sides of his eyes, smiling wide as he waited for what he hoped was the correct answer.

"I refuse to acknowledge this, although I will say that you have stopped, while your 'opponent' has continued."

Your heart fluttered at the minor semblance of praise, knowing that you were right not to get dragged in George's childish behaviour. Instead, you had kept your lips around Nanaue's second cock, bobbing your head down the length as far as you could go without gagging, knowing that the sound often upset him. You could almost see a sliver of a smile on his thin lips as you caught his stare, eyes focused on him as you holloed your cheeks and slid your own mouth down his shaft.

The moment of connection was ruined, however, by George's hand suddenly snaking up your thigh. Shooting him a sideways glance, you watched him back off immediately, hands in the air before curling one of them around Nanaue's cock and starting to stroke it.

"Alright! I just thought maybe we could all get a go! No need to be a baby about it."

In a strop, he turned back to face Nanaue's thighs, his hand listlessly stroking his cock, very little enthusiasm in his efforts now that he knew that he wasn't going to get any praise, and he certainly wasn't going to receive any pleasure in return either. In a churlish tone he mumbled some more, griping and somehow managing to stroke his ego in one swoop.

"How come he gets to have all the fun anyway... just cos he's got two. Size of mine, it would take both of you to cover it anyway."

His insolent muttering was quickly stifled as Nanaue gripped the back of George's head and pushed his mouth to his cock, which was immediately enveloped in his wide, open maw. The only way to truly get him to shut up.

[vanishedinvain]

𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐩

summary: the night before anthony and simon's duel from benedict's perspective.

warnings: angst, anxiety

a/n: wc: 546. this is a cut scene from ch. ii. of perfect all-american bitch, my benedict bridgerton x reader series where benedict becomes the viscount, but can be read as a standalone since this is a flashback sequence! despite how long the chapters already are, that's after i've spent a full day editing them lol, so i'm thinking of posting scenes that i've cut/would've liked to include in the main story but wasn't super relevant to the plot (like this one)

Benedict and Colin exited the study feeling about a decade older than when they walked in. Anthony had provided them grimly detailed instructions on what to do in both of the worst case scenarios. The two younger brothers congregated in Benedict’s bedchamber to go over the logistics one last time. 

Colin was to remain on guard at the home. He would arrange for a hired hack to be at the house to transport Anthony to either the docks or the hospital. He needed to keep Daphne from interfering, their other siblings away from any violent sights, and their mother calm.

Benedict needed to contact the solicitor to secure their financials. They would need to give notice of either death or disappearance to the people of Aubrey village and to Parliament. They might have the Bow Street Runners called on them in a few days time. Benedict might have to arrange for the funeral and a casket and—

Oh dear, the room was spinning.

Benedict had been running through the list in his head for the past few hours, his cursed version of counting sheep. Colin was snoring on the bench at the foot of the bed, occasionally bumping against the frame. 

Colin seemed a great deal calmer than Benedict. He seemed quite sure that the duke would yield, or that they would both fire their pistols wide. Perhaps, he was truly that optimistic, if a bit naive. But perhaps, he was only putting up a front. Because when Benedict suggested Colin go back to his own bedchamber once they were through, his younger brother had insisted he was too comfortable to move.

It was a bald-faced lie if he ever saw one. Colin was taller than Benedict, which meant his legs were scrunched up when he was horizontal on the bench. But he managed to fall asleep anyway, and Benedict draped a spare blanket over him before retiring to bed himself. 

And truthfully, Benedict did not want to be alone either. If this was their last night of normality, he would rather spend it together than apart. He laid staring at the ceiling until the first streams of sunlight threatened to breach the inky sky.

It was time.

They made their way down to Anthony’s study. This would be Colin’s post; close enough to the main entrance to execute his tasks, but hidden away from the staff, and more importantly, their mother.

Benedict clasped a hand on Colin’s shoulder; he hoped the gesture came across strong and reassuring, but Benedict felt more like he was grasping onto a life-jacket.

Colin was still boyish, the baby fat not quite melted off his face, and looked entirely too young to be dealing with this. He mirrored his brother, also grabbing Benedict’s shoulder. “This whole affair will all be over in a few short hours,” Colin said with a small smile.

Benedict couldn’t bring himself to agree as it would be disingenuous. There was something peculiar in the air this morning, as hokey as that sounded. Something just wasn’t sitting right with him, but he couldn’t put doubts in Colin’s head. 

He was the older one, so act like it. “The only way out is through,” he said with the solemn resolve to bring this business to an end.

why was this cut? as much as i liked exploring the relationship between colin and benedict (tbh i love getting the chance to explore any bridgerton sibling relationship hence why beneloise got a whole prologue), but 1. i was approaching a ridiculous word count and 2. it didn't entirely make sense for benedict to start the story from the night before.

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[itsnothingofinterest]

So was the quirk singularity dropped entirely or was it just a reason to give shigaraki a body horror power while still having erasure stop his quirks all along and never meant to be a problem. Like it’s never come up or been used except for as a reason for afo deku and shigaraki to be stronger.

Yeah that plot point was never resolved, not even in a super contrived way like the bystander effect thing.

I guess humanity's just going extinct sometime in the next century or so.

Although as I believe I've said before, I'm reasonably sure Shigaraki's body horror hands weren't related directly to the singularity, but instead to the singularity-proofing procedure he went through. Like hey just come with the improved hardware to handle more complex software (quirks).

And as for Deku...how did he relate to the Singularity again? I mean Yoichi says OFA passed it, but it never really got uncontrollable for Deku (except that one brief time, does that count?) and it almost seems like Yoichi was just talking about the threshold where Deku could talk to the vestiges rather than anything related to Garaki's theory.

(Honestly the term/concept seemed to kind of just get thrown around haphazardly to things unrelated to what Garaki & meatball boy described to us once or twice like that, basically just attached to any quirk looking really strong or scary.)

I'm pretty sure the only semi-confirmed basic quirk we saw to be truly post-Singularity all by itself is Eri's Rewind.

Goodness was the Singularity a very weirdly handled plot line in the end, wasn't it? Anyway, sorry I went on a tangent there. But yeah, doomsday plot line got dropped, guess that means the world is ending. Sucks I guess.

[expectopatronum18]

Unpopular opinion

Ron and/or Hermione should have died in the deathly hallows. And I say this as someone who loves these characters (probably Hermione more than Ron), but here me out

Now let's be fucking real, I really like ron, but he really wasn't skilled or prepared enough to fight in a war against voldemort, be it magically or mentally. And that's ok! He's still 17, he's not meant to be fighting a war. And to some degree he probably knew that the chances of him actually making it were pretty slim too. But he still stuck with Harry anyways coz there's no way he was going to let his best friend go through with this alone. Because that's who ron is, he'd rather die fighting beside his best friend, for his family, his muggleborn gf and for the cause than play it safe and hide.

Now coming to Hermione, things get a tad trickier here. Yes, she is very skilled and powerful and quick on her feet. But is she powerful enough to take on an army of adult DEs who've trained for years and have experience from the first wizarding war? To win against the darkest wizard who ever lived, who's said to be worse than Grindelwald, who's the most powerful wizard in the whole world after Dumbledore? No, I'd say she isn't. Because she's also fucking 17, she's not even done with school yet. But I think she'd live longer than Ron, or that there's a better chance of her making it out alive. But if she did die it would be extra heartbreaking coz a) Harry (and the readers) just lost 2 of the people who had been there from the very beginning, b) Hermione's parents would live on in Australia, not remembering that they had a daughter, not knowing that their daughter gave her life in hopes of saving her friend and creating a better world.

I majorly have 2 specific reasons for being this sadistic. The first one is the fact that the plot dumbs down it's main villain and his followers just to make the kids win. Voldemort (during Harry's time) is probably the dumbest villain ever written, he doesn't live up to his hype. People have already discussed how stupid his gof plan was. In ootp, during the DoM fight Lucius says that voldemort can't come get the prophecy himself coz the ministry is filled with ppl and he would risk revealing himself. But it's possible for 6 mostly dumb teenagers and an army of DEs, (who hv just escaped azkaban and are sought after by the ministry) to enter in undetected? Doesn't 👏 make 👏 any 👏 sense. The supposedly feared DEs who were trained by voldemort himself can't win against a group of teenagers. It's surprising how long it takes them to take the kids down in the DoM battle. The thing is though, this is out of character for ALL of them. It seems like they were dumbed down just so the MCs could make it out alive. Voldemort during the first WW started out as absolutely no one to having the highest class of the wizarding society obeying his every command. The whole wizarding world was so afraid of him that they wouldn't even say his name. The DEs picked out member after member of the original ootp, mostly coz they were outnumbered but also coz they're fucking death eaters. And ur telling me these guys can't fight kids? Pathetic. Also it doesn't make sense that most of the adults from the first war are dead but all the kids live. Like did the war become safer or sm shit? Instead i would have loved it if the trio got away with things in the first few books, but then realised what a war against voldemort actually means later on. But they won't back down, and they'll still stick with their friend and fight for each other and the cause anyways, and that vil have real, legitimate consequences

Now, the second reason is that it would have been an amazing but heartbreaking callback to book 1. Ron sacrifices himself in a game of chess and Hermione says that there are more important things than books and cleverness, like friendship and bravery. Ron's line of "It's you who has to go on Harry, I know it! Not me, not Hermione, you!" would have also come full circle. Back then they were still 11, so they could still get their happy ending. Now they're in a real war and the stakes are higher, but they'll stick to what they started anyways. Ron sacrifices himself so the other 2 can move forwards, Hermione's intelligence gets her further but she still needs to part with Harry. Harry needs to leave them behind and face voldemort alone because that's how it was always meant to be

And finally, it would have given us a more bittersweet ending to the series instead of that vanilla 'all is well' epilogue. Harry has lost almost every one he loved. But there's still life, there's still hope, and he lives by cherishing their memories and making their sacrifice have meaning. Kinda like the ending of the hunger games. Ik this is a kids book, but Harry Potter as a series is incredibly deep and deals with a lot of fucked up shit, so I think it could handle it if it was written well.

Thank you for coming to my TedTalk

[galvanizedfriend]

S5 rewriting which season five? what are you re-writing? I have questions many questions

Hi! Thanks for your ask! 😊 Also, apologies beforehand because this is me right now:

I have a toxic trait and that's wanting to rewrite the show. 🫠 I was once talking to @definedareasofuncertainty and we started talking about what TVD would've been like if The Originals had never happened, and we started imagining what season 5 of TVD would've been like in that scenario. We unearthed an interview where Julie Plec 🤢 said that the baby plot was always going to be a part of the story anyway, they just didn't know whether they'd actually get greenlighted by the network to move forward with the spin off. So then we started thinking what TVD would've been like with the magical mystery baby in it, and the S5 rewriting was born. 😂

So it's not what dream S5 would've like for me, but rather a more realistic take on what the show could've been like. Because hear me out.

When you think about it, there are certain aspects of TVD S5 that suggest that Klaus was always meant to be a part of it, which explains why S5 is so bad tbh. Everything feels so very pointless. It's the most forgettable season of TVD, and that's saying a lot, considering how bad some of the other seasons were, because the entire thing is just fillers. If you consider the idea that the Travelers abhored vampires, thought they were abominations and wanted to free the earth from them, then it would make sense for them to want to get rid of the Originals instead of just going for a bunch of teenagers who are at the very base of the supernatural food chain. And if you add in someone pregnant with a mystical anti-Christ, then it makes even more sense that the Travelers would want to obliterate Mystic Falls and everyone in it to make sure the baby wouldn't be born. The whole 'we know what's coming, this child will be the end of magic as we know it' makes much more sense with Travelers than regular witches because how would they know that? The whole concept of Travelers just make more sense to me if we put them up against the Originals. Even the Augustine society plot makes more sense with Originals thrown in. I'm sure Wes knew exactly who Klaus was and would be dying to get an introduction, not to mention the idea that they would've probably had close relations to Mikael when trying to create the ripper virus.

And it also kinda justifies the choice of Hayley as the mother figure, something that never made any sense to me. It's because she was completely expendable. She was barely an extra on the show, so it would be very easy to get rid of her. And in my head, she would definitely be dead by the end of the season. Where the witches caused her death in TO, it would've been the Travelers, except in TVD she wouldn probably not come back as a hybrid, she would've just stayed dead. She wasn't that important to the plot throughout S1 of TO, just carrying the baby around, which to me means that she was never meant to be a central point, but suddenly she had way more screen time than they'd anticipated she would get (also because Claire Holt decided to leave the show), so then they had to figure out how to write her as a lead.

Anyway, the source of all of this are the voices in my head, so take it with a grain of salt. 😂 I just think there are CLUES about the fact they did mean to write those two storylines as one at some point.

And that leads me to the fact that everything pointed towards Klaus and Caroline being together in S5. That part wasn't even subtle, S4 was a huge build up to them becoming a thing. And I think it would start with them kissing in that last scene of S4, Klaus showing up to save the day and Caroline's ass and gifting her with allowing Tyler to come back to town (I'm sure that would've been a greater discussion between them if he had stayed on the show for the final episodes prior to that, plus it would be more meaningful if Klaus was actually in town 😂 What was he going to do to stop Tyler anyway?).

So in my rewrite they'd start the season by showing the two of them had spent a hot secret summer together. Then school starts and Caroline sort of expects things to go back to normal because it's conveniente to her and how she excused herself in her guilty head, by rationalizing it all as a summer fling. She's leaving for college, where she will be rooming with her two best friends, and Tyler is expected to join them at some point even though she hasn't had any responses from him all summer, and in her mind, Klaus doesn't fit into that. There's no way to reconcile a romance with the big baddie and still lead the normal-ish life she expects to have. Klaus is obviously pissed off because he knows Caroline is in denial, and there's also the fact he's way too proud to be someone's dirty secret. Meanwhile Caroline is miserable and faced with the harsh truth she'd been denying all summer which is that she likes Klaus a lot more than she expected to but she's terrified of what everyone would think of her (and I personally think the next step in Caroline's TVD development would really be to let go of how much she tried to please everyone all the time just so they would like her. She had been on this journey since S1, of 'trying to become a better person' by shaping herself to meet other people's expectations, and it was about time she realized that she shouldn't have to change who she is in order to be liked or accepted, she shouldn't have to beg to be anyone's priority, which then leads back to Klaus and the fact he always admired her big personality, flaws and all, and the fact she gets to be 100% herself around him is a huge part of why she feels so much more at ease with him than she did with Tyler, for instance, but I digress).

While they are caught in this crossfire of sorts, him sulking in MF and her pretending not to sulk in Whitmore and having to deal with the mysterious new roommate's death and all, Elijah shows up with someone he just rescued from the hands of an angry witch mob in New Orleans: pregnant Hayley. And that's where the two plots would come together.

Obviously the whole baby thing would've been a much smaller plot within the whole of S5 than it ever was in TO, for obvious reasons. But it would be a point of contention between Klaus and Caroline and it would tie in the several different running storylines of the season at the end. I'm thinking Caroline would probably be the one trying to save Hayley and the baby from the siege of Mystic Falls at the end. And obviously, by the time we get there, with Tyler having come back and tried to kill Hayley, and revealed the secret to the whole town, etc, etc, Caroline will have come to terms with how she feels for Klaus and the two of them will be unapologetically together.

In a broader sense I also think this would offer a good chance to explore Elijah's character and his relationship with Katherine and everything she meant to him. The fact he wasn't there when she dies (and Klaus was) was just baffling to me. We see him him giving up on her in a 1 minute scene and that's it. Bringing him back to MF under these circumstances would create a much broader opportunity to explore what is his character's eternal conflict of family duty x self satisfaction, where he would realize that in order to keep the whole home situation in control, and mantain Hayley hidden and as secret, he'd have to stay away from Katherine, and then eventually she would die, and he would realize he'd once again missed a chance of being happy for the sake of his family while Klaus gives fuck all to fatherhood and all that.

I ALSO think it would've been so much fun if Caroline would invite Klaus instead of Katherine to help cure Stefan's PTSD. Klaus would have the time of his life tbh. And this is 100% my wishful thinking, but Klefan is real in my heart and it was about time the show incorporated that into its canon (although I very much doubt they'd ever do it, the cowards).

I'm so sorry for how long and rambly this is. 🥲

[itsdefinitely]

Definitely, can you pretty please go into depth about the MC outfits because I would LOVE to hear that /gen

WOOHOO!! YIPPEE!! DANCING AROUND MY LITTLE CORNER FULL OF RED TAPE AND MADNESS!!

gonna start in no particular order

TINKY COSTUME my beloved and beloathed (the colors fucked me up). to be honest most of it is pretty obvious. the maze design on the sleeves and the box on the shirt is meant to represent the bastard's box, but i imagine that box glowing in the game. for important plot or something. i just want the box to glow. the pants are pretty much directly because i wanted to give the MC boots (i didn't draw shoes because hell if i was gonna design six good looking pairs of shoes) and they fit in with the pattern on the sleeves + the overall steampunk-ish vibe tinky has. the outfit itself wasn't really steampunky or yellow, but these outfits were made to compliment the lord, so rather than two engineers, it's like a mad scientist and his loyal lab rat. so something that would be easy to move around in

and now is a good a time as any to mention this. all of the outfits were made with the CoTSC designing them in mind, which is why they look all different, because i feel like the church has different views on how each lord wants to be treated. like they're pretty sure nibbly is good with things being more modern, but wiggly and pokey would be more "traditional" i guess. the church is just convinced some of them need to be held to the same standard they were given decades ago

anyway. blinky. the whole thing with the blindfold is that the CoTSC thinks you're not meant to look at blinky. blinky actually doesn't care whether you look at him or not, but there's this air of "you're not supposed to do this" when the MC tries to take the blindfold off. the eye button-thing was very fun for me to think about because i saw this button a while ago that was the pupil as the button, and i've been trying to incorporate it into something ever since. the pants are more of a stylistic choice than anything, so interpret it how you will

nibbly's costume was actually so fun for me to draw. i wanted it to look like something out of a fucked-up twisted willy wonka. the base for the top is really similar to tinky's but that's fine because they probably all steal something from the others. tinky's costume steals the specific yellow from blinky's costume, who steals the midsection part from pokey's costume, who steals the whole robe thing from wiggly's costume. also there's no cape or flowy thing for nibbly's costume because if the MC failed i don't think the CoTSC would want nibbly mad at them for having to chew extra fabric. also you need to be able to run without tripping over yourself if you try to escape him :]

pokey's costume was also really fun. obviously the grey, blue, and the cracks (it's also supoosed to be lightning!) are from his canon design, but the glasses are because i wanted something on the MC's face like the mask. it couldn't be another mask because pokey would get offended by that i think, and sunglasses are in the superstar/thespian ballpark. this costume also has the most stars on it (they go all the way around the hem of the robe) because of pokey's connection to space

finally, wiggly's costume. this is the one i think i have the most to talk about. first and foremost: there's a full black outfit under the robe. the fingerless gloves and pants are actually one jumpsuit, like president howard's suit in black friday. the collar thing is connected to the cape, which is split into six parts to be kind of like wiggly's tentacles. the fluffy collar is meant to be like the doll's fur. the whole thing is meant to keep the MC insulated, because i imagine the temperature drops whenever a lord is around, and especially when THE lord in black shows up. all of the sniggles (+ blinky) have fur, so they've probably had to adapt to the cold. now that i'm thinking about it, the CoTSC aren't that antagonistic in the costume design process. they cater to both the lords and the MC's needs, or whatever they think those needs are. like i said before, wiggly's costume is meant to be more "traditional", like the robes they wear. this costume is similar to what they'd put you in before sacrificing you

thanks for coming to my braindump

[esta-elavaris]

From @softdandelion for this writing ask ✨ (thank you!!)

hc + 🐈 for a pet/animal-themed headcanon

Early on, the dogs would be one of the few points of actual contention in their relationship - the kind that leads to arguments rather than just their usual love language of bickering.

When they get them, Theo would absolutely see them in a modern sense "these are my babies, they are to be treated as such" from a standpoint of like, pampering them (but she'd also have them well-trained because she's not one of the stupid types who's all "let's get a BIG dog and then let them be insanely aggressive and pretend it's cute, y'know?) -- and James would uhhhh disagree. He'd have much more of an "these are animals" view rather than Theo's "these are members of our family."

Lots of "if you're going to let the dogs sleep in the house that's one thing, but for the love of god they're banned from the bedroom - why...why is the dog on the bed? No. Absolutely not. This is ridiculous." while Theo insists that it's just as much the dogs' house as it is their house, and not allowing a pet on the furniture is basically fascism.

Eventually, though, I think James would have big "dad who said he didn't want a dog" energy. Theo would catch one (or both) of the puppies sleeping on him and just give a look while he's furiously pretending he hasn't grown stupidly attached to them.

I do think he'd be less permissive with them than Theo, but I also think he'd come more around to her way of thinking than vice versa, not just from being actually convinced, and not even from a weird boomer "happy wife happy life" thing, but because it would matter more to her than to him and he knows which hills to die on. I also don't think he'd have much of a heart to really fight her on it, because of how stupidly happy the dogs would make her.

But he'd still be adamant about keeping them off of the bed.

Any time he goes away for a few nights and then returns, it's a habit that has to be trained out of them once again. Theo pretends she has no idea how it happens.

hc + 🗡 for a weapon-themed headcanon

Theo never actually ends up with any kind of big weapon attachment in CTW. Like, you know how there's the thing with James' sword, and Jack's hat, and there are certain items you see in fiction and just associate them with their owner? That doesn't happen with any swords for her - although it might in As It Was, because it feels like a missed opportunity.

There just wasn't room for it in terms of plot and logistics, based on what happens she really would just need to get by with what she had available to her (which is a strong Theodora-ism, anyway).

Seeing as the action doesn't completely stop for them after the events of the main story - they can still sail with their company's ships any time they have a hankering for adventure - they'd definitely have to end up splashing out for a proper weapon for her. Like, one made to her preferences/measurements, and one that's meant to be hers, rather than just whatever she can grab and cause damage with.

At some point, James would also take it upon himself to see her fitted with a firearm. Probably because he'd despair at how happy she is to abandon "proper" fighting methods and dive in for close quarters in order to grapple with an opponent, because that's where she's comfortable and that's where she has the upper hand. She kinda sorta uses a gun in the final battle, but by that point everything's been done for her and all she needs to do is point, aim, and make the most of the shots she has because there's no chance of reloading. So I think they'd make A Day of seeing her educated on that. James would have a "well, that's awakened something in me" moment watching her fire it, but he's late to the party considering she had that moment all the way back during the battle at the end of the first movie, when he shoots the member of Barbossa's crew who's attacking her.

[thegrimreaperisanerd]

About DUCKLINGS, can you tell us more about Julien? I am so curious to know what he was/is like and what was your thought process for creating an ex boyfriend for Kim.

(You don't have to answer everything of course, especially if you plan on expanding on that later as you write more)

Sure, he's not a fleshed out character or important to the plot in any way so I'll condense what I've got in my head. Under a readmore since I'm waxing poetic about fic stuff again.

I actually didn't think this would be interesting to anyone! It just made sense to give him a name since Kim's probably not going to think "my ex" but whatever the guy's name was. Hence "Julien" (named after my favourite song from Placebo's Battle For The Sun album; which is underrated, but that's entirely irrelevant...)

I don't have an appearance in mind for the guy since that's usually the last thing I conceptualise about characters (apart from instances where it's important OR I just get a vibe from them. The shopkeeper from Imprinting popped into my head with red hair and teardrop shaped glasses for example, I knew Dom was going to look "exceptionally white" as part of his narrative foil)

Anyway: This is a relationship Kim entered into due to its convenience. I imagined Juvie cop Kim being sent to a school to do a "join the RCM" (boo) stall at a careers fair, then *clocking* a guy putting WAY too much effort into his role in a "don't do drugs!" play for the kiddies.

They bone a couple times, the guy does RCM adjacent work so he's not put off by Kim's job (tends to be a deal breaker), they go on a few dates and Kim generally has a good time during. J: "Do you want to make this exclusive?" Kim (wasn't having sex with anyone else anyway): "Sure." A few months pass. J: "My lease is up, can I move in with you?" Kim (paying rent for a flat he only really sleeps, shits, and shaves in): "Okay."

Suddenly (as can happen when you spend most of your waking life working) a significant amount of time has passed, J has become significantly attached and Kim didn't really notice until he has to decide how to respond to "I love you." "Oh..." (O-O)¬ "Okay." Wasn't really the response Julien wanted.

There's a fight, and Kim *does* feel bad about being a bit blasé with the guy's feelings, but when J says "You work way too hard for a place that doesn't respect or appreciate you anyway." It hits *a bit* too close to home, and as such when that's punctuated by "You need to spend less time working and more time with me, or I'm gone." Kim let's the guy pack his bags and go.

I haven't thought about how *long* the relationship lasted but they probably knew each other for a year at the minimum.

Main concrete personality type for the guy would be egotistical and self-obsessed, despite not being particularly good at what he does. <- Kim finds this grating.

He wouldn't care to ask Kim how his day was when he comes home from work. <- Kim actually prefers this.

He has opinions on art and acting and speaks about that *a lot*. <- Kim doesn't care, but was happy to let Julien talk since it meant he could sit quietly and drink his coffee in relative peace.

Despite the time they spent together J never really got to know Kim that well, Kim doesn't like to talk about himself unprompted and J didn't care enough to badger him like Harry does.

He would have been honest with Kim at least (which he appreciated) hence Kim knowing that J thought he was a bad cook.

Kim would have been in his late 20s - early 30s, not as mature, *genuinely* still believes he's just not working hard enough and THAT'S why he's been passed over for promotions. He's still scared of his Captain, and most superiors, at this point and EASILY bullied into picking up extra shifts.

At the age I'm writing Kim now he would have ended the relationship himself rather than let it fizzle out over time.

Kim at least liked him enough to share a living space, and still thinks about the guy fairly often considering a decade has passed. <- lonely.

That's about all I've got concrete! Thanks for the ask!

[the-teapot-hatter]

Okey this is for pure comedy and nothing else since this would never happen BUT-

In the Off Script AU what if MC gets a little taken of the Saintess?? Like a puppy love crush or maybe MC is just nicer to them then everyone else (aka the suitors who are trying to win over MC heart-)

Because you said in the ask about Saintess that the only characters who will be "Taken over" by them are characters that either don't affect the plot that much or at all and MC originally meant nothing to the plot (I think they still don't matter but that could have been changed)

This is great and honestly the perfect request for this AU, since it's kinda pure crack already--

Anyway, here's the ask, I hope that you enjoy! And If this isn't what you wanted, or you would like to see this with a different character, feel free to let me know and I'll make sure to write it. ^^

Malleus had a hard time keeping himself from twitching. As the Crown Prince, he couldn't afford to have a bad relationship with the Saintess. And truly, he didn't dislike Cersei. In fact, she was one of the few people he had an applicable relationship with. She was like a little sister. As such, Malleus thinks she was taking to her job of the annoying little sister a little too well.

Currently, she was feeding both (Y/n) and Grimm some of the sweets only nobles could attain, a delicacy afforded to her by her status. Maybe it wouldn't have been such a big deal, if it hadn't been for the fact that Malleus had tried to do the same thing and was denied. (Y/n) had shown no interest in him at all, yet they had no problem with Cersei cooing over them as if they were a small puppy. What exactly was he doing wrong?

"Something wrong, Malleus?" Cersei asked, a look that was much to smug settling across her features. She knew exactly what she was doing. And while Malleus was grateful that Cersei didn't have any romantic affections for (Y/n), he was still a little annoyed with the ease of which she could get close with (Y/n). At least, Malleus didn't think Cersei liked (Y/n) romantically.

"Of course not, though I am curious as to when you got so close to (Y/n) and Sir Grimm." Malleus casually spoke. (Y/n) glanced up at him with judgmental eyes, as if they could tell what he was thinking and wasn't caring for it. Malleus wasn't so sure they actually knew what he was thinking. At times, they could be incredibly perceptive, and others, they remained oblivious. In particular, they didn't seem to understand, or willfully ignored, when others had any sort of romantic interest.

"Oh! They helped fix an old tool of mine. They're incredibly smart!" Cersei cheered. Clapping her hands together. Grimm nodded, looking particularly smug.

"Thafts rifpht! I'ff fe Grutest!" Grimm spoke with food still in his mouth, but vaguely Malleus could make out an 'That's right! I'm the Greatest!'.

Contemplating to himself, Malleus wondered if (Y/n) just wasn't interested in men but rather, preferred woman. Well, there were such transformation potions that would do the work, but he isn't so sure if that would be the best political move. Hmmm.... A prospect to consider at another time.

"I've heard that (Y/n)'s skills are to be revered." Malleus lightly fibbed. While Idia had said that (Y/n) had potential, it wasn't anything that a certified professional couldn't do. But Malleus had also heard plenty of people praise (Y/n) in such a way that his Fea roots didn't stop the light fib from leaving his lips. "In fact, I would be most interested in offering you a position as one of the Palace's handyman, if you would allow (Y/n)."

(Y/n) certainly had more manners than Grimm, waiting to finish their food before speaking.

"I'm afraid I'll have to decline your gracious offer, your Highness." (Y/n) rejected, as they had many others before. Malleus couldn't help the pout that settled across his lips. And to make matters worse, Cersei jumped in with her own offer.

"I'm sure the temple could offer you a position of a handyman! None of the Priest, or Priestesses around here no what to do with most of the magical tools or anything similar." Cersei suggested. Instead of the instant rejection that Malleus had gotten, (Y/n) had paused and seemed to be considering the offer.

"I'll think about it." (Y/n) finally responded. Cersei squealed and jumped onto (Y/n) with exuberance unbefitting of a lady such as herself.

"Won't you!? Then we'll get to see each other more often!" Cersei cheered, awkwardly (Y/n) wrapped their own arms around Cersei not seeming to know what to do. A crackle of thunder roared from outside. Yes, maybe Malleus should see if that transformation potion would get him a different response.

[melonteee]

I enjoyed OPLA and really did like some of the changes they made but now that it's marinated in my brain a bit. It's hard out here being a Sanji enjoyer fr

I feel like it didn't really show his sensitivity and vulnerability. You said something about Baratie arc feeling like a checklist and GOD yeah it really felt like that :'D I always forget the Mihawk fight happened there honestly and am disappointed that parts of the episodes were dedicated to tension between Nami, Luffy and Zoro about the duel rather than... you know... blorbo from my shows

He really did feel like a side character to his own story cause some of the most memorable things about him were completely missed or skimmed over. I h8 that he just talks about the All Blue and it's not that goofy smile from the animanga. Also that he doesn't watch the fight or have this moment of "wait, my dream is worth fighting for". It's kinda said to our face that "he doesn't leave cause he owes Zeff" but I don't feel it the same way I do in the animanga. I have so many weird feelings cause I love some aspects to OPLA. But as a Sanji fan, I'm sad that he's kinda barely in it? And that what they left in were just surface level observations about him: "he's a chef who fights and flirts" um, where's that self-loathing and self-destructive kindness huh??

At least he calls Zoro mosshead once though and I got the joy of replaying that scene in different languages and now know what "mosshead" is in a plethora of languages.

...also have you seen the YOUTOOZ figures for OPLA cause I'm haunted

I just...everyone was stripped of character but Sanji and Usopp were especially so ruined I really do not understand it. Like I'm sorry, using Sanji's pain and trauma as a lesson for Luffy IS a despicable way to frame it, even worse with Luffy not even ACKNOWLEDGING IT??

One's pain in One Piece does not exist to teach any other characters a lesson, Sanji starving on a rock for 2 months does not exist so he can just tell Luffy how hard it is to be a captain. Which doesn't even make SENSE because Zeff wasn't even SANJI'S CAPTAIN AT THE DAMN TIME. NOR HAS HE EVER BEEN?

I feel crazy because everyone seems very lukewarm on it, and maybe I am just insanely attached to Sanji and feel greatly touched by his story, but is using a character's original written trauma as a plot device for ANOTHER character not insulting? Is there ANY respect for Sanji's 2 months of hell there? There's a damn good reason Sanji's story existed to be his OWN and not a motivational speech for LUFFY??

Imagine if Zoro was like "My best friend died, changing the course of my life and putting me through a grief so heavy I now carry her dream with me. Sometimes death of a loved one is an inevitable factor" and Luffy's like "L+ratio+I would kill MY best friend for Sanji" LIKE...WHA....

This is pure insanity I feel like I'm being shot left and right with everything I hear, like I'm glad people are enjoying bits and pieces, truly, but the flaws and disrespect of original character are just so apparent they're doing my head in - especially with how tons of people are choosing to just ignore it.

They tried to give Luffy this weird Water 7 moment, where he had to learn how to be a captain, but this script failed to consider Luffy had to learn that HIMSELF of his OWN circumstances and decisions with Usopp. Yes he was helped by Zoro in Water 7, but Zoro didn't suddenly just trauma dump about how awful a past he had for Luffy to go "Cool. ANYWAYS!" LIKE I JUST...REALLY? Am I crazy or overly biased or what because god damn I'm just jaw dropped at all of this fhgkd

The Baratie is meant to be Luffy witnessing SANJI'S character, and learning of SANJI'S personality and morals - with Sanji then being inspired from Luffy. Where was that? Where was any of that? Why was Sanji's kindness, stubbornness and self-sacrifice side-lined for a character we've been with LONGER at that point to get a bigger spotlight? It's so weird I don't GET IIIIT DFGHJKD

HOWEVER, yes I have seen the merchandise and it scared me KHDFGJKD sorry for that I...truly had a lot of thoughts hhh

[cheesetalia]

and the crown tumbles down

For @aphcardverse-week's Day 2: You Should See Me In a Crown | coronation | celebration | chosen one

England/America | 959 words | warnings: noncon, major character death

Summary:

Political power lost, shackled to an obnoxious and despicable king, Arthur spirals a bit. But a mind can be a terribly fun thing to lose.

Can be read on the Archive of Our Own or underneath the Readmore:

"You're shit at giving head Artie," Alfred laughs, "but don't worry, you'll get plenty of chances to practice."

Alfred's cock, laying out hard in front of him, is long and thick and veiny, and the strong musk of it makes Arthur want to gag.

His eyes are full of tears as he glares up at Alfred, who's sprawled out on the throne.

He can't believe he's being made to do this.

*****

Later, rinsing his mouth out over and over again with mint water, Arthur plots.

*****

"Chosen king" Arthur's foot. Arthur had ruled the kingdom for over a decade with wisdom and good temper, bringing nothing but peace and prosperity to the people.

And what had it gotten him? Tossed aside, pushed into a submissive position, the minute some idiot yokel with the King's mark had been found. "Thanks for keeping the throne warm, now step aside."

And now there was mass mourning, the streets packed full of citizens wearing black, openly weeping as the funeral procession passed through. All this show over someone who hadn't even ruled a year! Arthur was grateful for the black veil he wore. It hid his features, which were twisted in fury rather than grief.

If they wanted downfall he'd let them have it. A good monarch was sensitive to the wishes of his people.

There was a rational part of his brain that saw the way he was reacting, understood it was illogical, announced this to him, and then was completely ignored. The people had betrayed him, it was that simple.

If they wanted to love Alfred more than him after all he'd done for them, then he was done with bending over backwards to make their lives better.

*****

The order to raise taxes was given out the next morning.

"There will be complaints," Yao warned.

"I don't care," Arthur said.

He was still dressed all in black, albeit trimmed with dark blue, and would be for the next year. He was like a dark shadow on the otherwise bright and glittering throne room, which was all bright blues and shining brass and copper. Arthur didn't mind; dull clothing was a small price to pay to be rid of that oaf Alfred.

"And why are you diverting all the funding from health, education—everything but defense?!" Yao exclaimed.

"It's not the kingdom's responsibility to cater to every individual's whim and need. There are more important things to spend state funds on," Arthur said.

His voice was toneless, empty, but his fingers tapped restlessly against the throne's armrest.

"Perhaps you should hold off on making any major changes right now, your majesty. It's only been a week since King Alfred passed—" Yao tried.

"What does he have to do with it?" Arthur asked, his green eyes boring into Yao.

Yao was taken aback.

The Queen had been...odd, since the King took the throne as co-ruler. And he was only getting stranger now that the King had died. Before, the Queen had seemed to simmer with a smothered anger. Now, the anger was still there, but it was as cold and cleanly cut as a shard of ice.

Yao found it harder and harder to talk to Queen Arthur. Dealing with his fits of temper had been easier when King Alfred was around; then, Yao could just go to the King about things whenever Arthur was in a bad mood.

It was the King who had had the final say anyway.

"Are you trying to preserve his rulings? Don't bother, Yao. He never cared about the finances, unless it was to get funding for some stupid project of his," Arthur said.

"No, that wasn't what I was trying to do at all!" Yao protested.

He'd just meant that the Queen was still in mourning, likely still in shock. Not in a state of mind that was good to make major decisions in. But Yao had a feeling if he said that it would only make things worse. Arthur wouldn't appreciate the insinuation that he was ever less than capable.

Arthur's bushy eyebrows furrowed as he stared at Yao. He'd already rid himself of one "appointed by the gods" menace; if he had to get rid of another, so be it.

"Are you going to have a problem carrying my orders out, Yao? I know you—just like everyone else—preferred to work with my husband," Arthur said.

"No your majesty, there will be no problem," Yao said. He could feel a bead of sweat rolling down his back.

"Then see to it," Arthur said, and waved a hand in dismissal.

Without a backwards glance he strode out of the throne room and towards his private rooms. Not the royal bedroom or walk-in closets or the parlor; he allowed servants in those. But he allowed no one in his personal library and laboratory. The spellbooks and potions in these rooms were too precious to be snooped through or damaged by some careless maid.

Now in his time of need, he turned to the one thing that never let him down: magic. There were powerful old spells and rituals he'd mentally toyed with but never crossed the line to cast. The magic too dark, the requirements too steep, the risks and collateral damage unacceptable.

But nothing would hold him back now. All those funds he'd pulled from public services would be needed to make his dreams a reality, to obtain rare and nearly priceless ingredients. Some couldn't be gotten for any amount of coin, he would likely need to wage war to obtain them. He could afford it.

Arthur was never going to relinquish his power again. Not to an upstart King, nor to the decline of old age and death either. He would rule forever.

[tasmanianstripes]

Re that post about content warnings...

I suspect I'm the person you saw reblog this--and I think that some of the OPs original point/intention might have been lost. It is mostly to emphasize that there's some degree of responsibility on the reader -- by this I mean, you can't get mad at an author for hiding behind tags like "creator chose not to use content warnings." It's kind of a two way street. Because if you put "cw: (triggering thing)" it protects the people who are avoiding it--- but it also may spoil the story for the people who arent. This can be problematic if that major content is actually a huge plot element and having it spoiled kind of removes the shock reaction that comes.

I'm of the opinion personally that people can and should use creator chose not to use warnings and then just a vague "this is going to deal with problematic content that could trigger you; be in a good headspace to consume" type note at the start of its something specific. I reblogged because I really wish more authors would lean into that tag function; it exists to protect both reader and writer, lets us keep our spoilers and surprises while alerting the reader that There May Be Dragons here.

Anyway, I know you don't want discourse and I'm hoping this ask just clarifies why I reblogged it rather than sounding disrespectful in any way. If you wanna reply feel free, but you don't gotta. I just felt bad when I read your post, thought you might have misunderstood my intent behind the reblog, and really wanted to explain myself.

Oh no it wasn't from you, and I totally agree with you!

This is why I mentioned that option of AO3 too because I think it's a good compromise, it doesn't spoil the story but also makes it so people know there might be some potentially triggering things if you read it. When you click on that you kind of accept that risk.

I was more so talking about when there's no warning at all, not even "Hey this has some triggering stuff in it but I can't say what because that's a spoiler, read at your own risk", and my absolute frustration with it. If that is not what OP meant then my bad, but that post came off as also defending that, mainly thanks to the inclusion of the line (paraphrasing) "the author only has the obligation to add the trigger warnings the website they're posting to requires them to" which in cases for websites like Tumblr is none (or was none for a very, very long time (untagged graphic SA fics in the Moomins tags my beloathed)) and is generally a problem where websites don't really have filters like AO3. If it's only about AO3's option to not include warnings and an AO3 post that broke containment then I agree (and my bad also), because it's clear when there are triggering subjects and the author simply chose not to include them vs if there are no triggering subjects.

I still take issues with the wording even then though, though this feels like a nitpick and I generally don't like nitpicking people over wording they use. I'm just generally frustrated because it feels like the discussion of trigger warnings is about courtesy and comfort when treating it like it is is massively underselling it and feels like intentionally picking the words to trivialise the issue and making the people who need them out to be needy and nuisances. Trigger warnings are an accessibility feature, and I'm tired of people boiling it down to simply comfort of the reader, it feels like accessibility is always an afterthought and even a nuisance to some people to deal with. It's genuinely frustrating, and maybe my personal experiences affected my reading of that post.

Sorry if my post upset you also! I admit I was pretty frustrated when writing it so I wasn't the most polite. I totally agree with you here though.

[daylander1000]

Will rhaena ever confront corlys for his treatment of laena's children in your fic? That guy needs to get someone to yell at him about how he treats his family.

Even vaemond in the show, the guy was his bro who helped him in his travels and fought beside him and all he does is complain that he deserved it for being too greedy, when he was just trying to save his home? How can that be greedy? I think vaemond grew up there too right?)

I also don't understand how laenor was ok with his (elder) sisters kids being usurped by non-velaryons. I thought he loved laena. That guy confused me a lot, i don't even think he loved the strong kids that much to give up driftmark for them if he wanted to escape with his boyfriend the first chance he gets.

Love your fic so much by the way ❤️

Thanks for the love. Back at ya. 💕

I think the problem with Corlys and Laenor and the Velaryons in general is that they're not really meant to be characters, just background plot devices no one thinks about for more than 0.2 seconds. If you look at them for 0.3 seconds, they fall apart.

I can't go too much into plans for swhhw without getting into fic-spoilers, but this is a justice fix-it fic, so trust that there'll be some by-his-own-petard-hoisting for Corlys at some point. Justice for Laena, Rhaena, Baela, Rhea, Vaemond... I don't know if I'm doing a confrontation scene tho because it's like Rhaena hardly knows him? He's not been visiting her in Pentos or Dragonstone. I kinda want her to treat him with the same disregard he shows her.

In the show, Laena was sort of a hostage on Pentos. Laenor's sort of a hostage in KL. Rhaena's sort of a hostage on Dragonstone and Rhaenys has Baela on Driftmark. No one ever really takes any action to protect them, help them, love them, look out for their best interests, etc. They're not allowed to look out for themselves or each other either. Hell, they're not even allowed to see and speak to each other. Each of the Targs just get to have one. Like house pets. Or worse house plants.

Or house cacti rather that no one ever waters. That's the level of development hotd gave them imo. They're really loyal house cacti.

Daemon's like "Mine died. It was kinda annoying."

Rhaenyra's like, "I know, right? Help me get rid of mine, I don't want it anymore."

He's like, "Fire works. Excellent Velaryon remover. But I have two more..."

She's like, "Well, Jace and Luke can have them. Velaryons are very loyal and can be handy to have around. Very useful. If it can bear a cup, it can bear a child."

And Rhaenys is just like, "Well, mine is actually a borrow from you, remember? Wasn't using it anyway, so sure, take it back if you need it."

So I'm Team Vaemond 4eva😅. Fluent in Valyrian, but unc chose to speak High Facts.

He lost the argument to Team Alternative Facts, but at least he said something.

Laenor... I can rationalize him by thinking that everything he's done since Joffrey's murder has been under duress. That's how he makes sense to me.

I mean, I doubt it was his idea for an immediate wedding while his boyfriend's blood was still being mopped up. He's sort of in the Criston situation imo. Yes, he's a man, with a much higher social position than Criston and a dragon... but can he truly say no to his father, Viserys or Rhaenyra?

I mean, what happens to him the minute he decides to say out loud that those children aren't his and that he dgaf? In the one episode we saw of their adult relationship, he's just being gaslit and taking jabs with no fighting back. We saw Rhaenyra pull rank on him when he just wanted to take a break from the shitshow and constant negging. What happens if he tells Daemyra he doesn't want to spend the rest of his life in exile? Is he afraid of the Divorce Rock™ being re-activated? 🤔

Corlys is in a vastly different situation and is just a horrible brother, father and grandfather. Like, I have him even below Otto and Viserys.

Viserys is a horrible idiot, but he still believes he's protecting at least 1 child and that the rest might be more or less fine in his batshit Legoland version of reality.

Otto clearly underestimated how shit Viserys was going to be. Probably thought, "Dude still plays with Legos. Not a drunkard, murderer or wife-beater. Relatively decent compared to most Targs and Westerosi lords in general. Kinda sickly, might die soon. Perfectly harmless and controllable."

In normal Westerosi circumstances when you have no inheritance of your own, getting your daughter married off to a supposedly kindly/soft/spineless king can be considered a good move for her security. I mean, how was he supposed to know that Viserys was going to descend into overt tyranny and become the "I'll have your tongue cut out" guy? Probably didn't expect Rhaenyra to take up Daemon's Heir for a Day energy either. Probably didn't expect her to become an "I want this ten year old who just lost an eye tortured" type person.

He's not Tywin. He can't do a Castamere on House Targ. So yeah, he put his daughter in a bad situation but he's right there with her in it at least, kinda, trying as best as he can to get her out alive, risking his own neck too. I feel like he'd be the only one of all the old fathers to confess that mistakes were definitely made and he definitely saw it going differently in his head. He has no dragons, no banners, no power other than his Hand job which can be easily taken away the moment he gets out of line as Viserys demonstrated. Like, Aegon is his best option and only hope. If your life depends on Aegon stepping up, you are not in a good place and I know you are crying in the shower.

But Corlys has a navy, a dragon through Rhaenys, is lord of the richest house, and seems to be actively trying to throw all his children and grandchildren onto a Targaryen pyre for no clear reason other than a desire to serve them up as tribute.

Even Rhaenys, the actual Targ, is like, "Maybe we should stop sacrificing children and give Driftmark to Baela so she has a home?" And he's just like "Naw... Fuck them non-Luke, non-Jace kids."

He's just the worst to me. If you take people's motivations and beliefs into consideration, their options, what they're working with, their goals, he's just indefensible. I cannot think of a single possible defense for Corlys. Not one.

Dude woke up from a coma, heard his brother had been murdered and thought "Vaemond had it coming. Lemme go bend the knee real quick anyway."

This is the character the showrunners used to pat themselves on the back for their diverse casting.

So I really really really hate Corlys. Like in a meta way. Cannot put into words how much of a disappointment watching him was.

Definitely getting his just rewards in swhhw.

Now that I've written this out, I actually want to kill him off.😅 You make a good point. If Vaemond deserved to be beheaded for his greed then surely Mr "I will sacrifice my children for likes" deserves worse.

[just-a-bookish-reader]

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

The Fireborne Blade by Charlotte Bond

Well I'm finally back - I'm going to try to post more regularly soon - but this is the most recent book I just finished, and have so many others I need to blab about from the last book I posted about.

Anyway - at about 168 pages before acknowledgements, holy shit this was quite the book.

Gifted to me as a 23rd birthday gift by my brother's girlfriend, (who I talked to extremely vaguely while reading it since I want her to read it too) this book sat on a shelf for a handful of months. And now it sits at a rather comfortable 4 star rating (with potential in either direction depending on how the sequel is).

This novella was shockingly fun and quick read, though I'll admit, I like apparently many, wasn't exactly expecting any plot twists in an under 200 page book. Until I was in the car the other day (in the passenger seat, not driving) and had the book with the cover face down and started looking at all those little reviews from other authors.

Most of them mentioned something about a plot twist. In fact there was. One I could not have seen coming ever, one that had my jaw dropping at work.

I will also take this opportunity to warn fellow sapphics out there, yes there is some hints of an extreme slow burn but it looks like nothing super physical or even official is going to be happening until The Bloodless Princes in October.

For such a short book, I found the world more believable and enjoyable than many two or three times its size - really proving that a high epic fantasy does not need to be 800 pages. In fact I would love more novella series like these, I would eat them up.

The only difference I wish had been explored was to use different ways to portray the stories when switching out of our main character's point of view - I've seen footnotes be used, and having an image of a scroll on the page with the story typed up - and I really think this would have been even better utilizing one or both - as I just really wanted more of Maddileh and her potential love interest and their moments together.

While I know this is simply meant to be a duology, I can easily see Charlotte Bond writing more and more in this world, it has so much potential and can only grow from here.