#we have multiple cats who lived that long. even if so few survived from that reign then THEIR kids most certainly had to live through stuff

[blue-blue-blooms]

A Little Crush   

Eddie Munson x Henderson!Reader

Part 1

Summary: In which Eddie develops a crush on the Henderson sister.

You weren't sure exactly when your life had gone to absolute shit. Was it when you found a strange, superpowered adolescent girl living in Mike Wheeler's basement? Was it when you walked in on a baby demogorgan eating your cat? Or was it when you were drugged by evil Russians operating under Starcourt Mall? You couldn't even remember a time when life was normal. If someone had told you that you would become best friends with Steve 'The Hair' Harrington and fight literal monsters from an alternate universe alongside Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan 'The Creep' Byers a few years ago, you would've laughed in their face. Now? You'd survived the most traumatising events of your life alongside these people. You were bonded for life.

The last few years had also made you closer with Dustin. You loved your baby brother and his weird friends, especially since you'd spent so much time babysitting them. But no amount of love could make you say yes to what they were asking of you.

"Please?" Dustin begged, following you down the hallway as you made your way to Ms. O'Connell's class.

"No! I have, like, three essays due this week, Dustin. I don't have the time to sub." You respond.

"It's only for tonight! Lucas can't make it and we really need a sub. We're nearly done with the campaign and Eddie will kill us if we make him reschedule!" Dustin pleads.

You were really happy that Dustin and Mike had found a safe space in high school. Lord knows those two idiots needed it. Freshmen year is probably the toughest of them all. You're new, scared, and lonely. You were really glad that they'd found friends, a place where they could be their nerdy selves and feel accepted. Hell, even you'd dabbled in their interests when you'd babysat them. DnD wasn't half bad, and not nearly as hard to undertand as you once thought. You'd spent many nights in Mike's basement playing with them. The first few times, you'd get your character killed in the first fifteen minutes. But after a while, you started making progress (even though you're convinced that the party was exceptionally lenient with you after you once burst into tears over getting killed off).

"I'll do your half of the chores for a week!" Dustin exclaims.

That makes you stop.

"A week?" You turn around to look at him, "Make it two weeks and I'll sub."

"Two? Are you insane!?" Dustin yells, making a few people lingering in the hallway turn and look at you both.

"Two or no deal, Dusty Buns," You tease, "And be quick, I'm late for my class."

"Fine!" Dustin says, "And stop calling me 'Dusty Buns'"

"Why? Is that nickname just for Suzy Poo?" You tease.

Dustin glowers at you as you walk off.

♡♡♡

"So, who's the DM?" You ask as you walk alongside Dustin and Mike.

"It's Eddie, Eddie Munson. He's a senior. Long hair, wears a hellfire T-Shirt, I talk about him constantly. God, do you ever listen to me?" Dustin claims exasperatedly.

"Oh! Eddie as in your new favorite older male best friend who Steve's weirdly jealous of?" You ask, "I've seen him around. Is he the one who jumps on lunch tables and yells a lot?"

"Yup." Mike responded, "He's a bit scary when he's revved up. Just warning you beforehand in case he comes off...a bit intimidating."

You nod.

"Hasn't he been held back, like, three times?" You ask.

Before either of the boys could answer, you reach the room. The first thing you see is the table where the game is set. There are three boys sat around, all with Hellfire T-Shirts on. Your eyes fleet from one to the other until finally landing on Eddie. You recognise him immediately from the amount of times you've seen him yelling in the cafeteria.

Dustin and Mike failed to mention how cute he was, you think.

His hair was long and wavy. He was wearing multiple rings. And he was covered in tattoos. You're pretty sure you saw a few bats peeking from under his sleeve.

"Who's this?" One of the guys asks, making all three turn around and look at you.

"This is Y/N! She's subbing for Lucas!" Mike says, the words spilling out fast and nervously.

Why the hell are they so jittery?

"Yeah, she's my sister! The one I mentioned a couple days ago." Dustin adds.

"Does she even know how to play DnD?" The other boy asks.

"Okay, excuse me, I wouldn't have come if I didn't know how to play," You finally speak, waving your hand a little to get their attention.

"So, this is your infamous sister?" Eddie finally speaks, his eyes landing on you, "You know, I thought he made you up. What's your class and level? Level One Elf?"

Elf? Is he mocking me?

"Are you mocking me?" You ask incredously.

"Is he mocking me?" you turn towards Dustin and Mike who immediately start gesticulating, probably asking you to shut up.

"My name is Aeren Sirenfall and I'm a level 14 chaotic good half-elf rogue. I will sneak behind any monster you throw my way and stab them in the back with my poison-soaked kukri. And I'll smile as I watch them die a slow...agonising...death." You say, your voice slow and hard as you glare at Eddie, "So, are we gonna play this stupid game or not?"

You're pretty sure you hear one of the boys mutter a 'she's terrifying' to Dustin.

You watch as Eddie's eyes slowly soften and a grin emerges on his face, "Welcome to Hellfire Club."

[homesweetgoodneighbor]

As the holidays speed towards us like a bullet train, here are more ways to support/survive the fiber artist in your life. (You might as well print and save these, because we fiber artists will never learn our lesson.):

DO:

Make them stop each day before they hurt themselves. @gootspatrol made mention of this in a comment and I added it to a reblog, but I want to say it again because it is fucking IMPORTANT. All fiber arts are pretty much repetitive stress injuries waiting to happen. People think our crafts are easy peasy and have no clue that even "easy" things can also injure a body if done too much for too long. Do not work through the pain, folks. It absolutely will come back to haunt you.

Tell them to step back and work on another project if they are getting frustrated with the one they are currently working. I promise you we ALL have multiple projects going. Sometimes a project is just being fucking argumentative, and the situation devolves into such cussing and threats that anyone overhearing will be sure you live with a serial killer. Putting it down and doing another for a while, or at least until that one also becomes the bane of our existence, always helps.

Remind them their bladder exists and isn't meant to be ignored. Yes, I know that sounds silly, but many fiber artists already have ADHD, and we are notorious for ignoring bodily processes. Forgettingto eat is one thing, but much as we'd love to, we can't will our bladders to go away.

From time to time gush at how amazing their project is looking. Your fiber artist will always invariably say "It sucks sweaty donkey balls. I want to set fire to it, but I spent too much damn money on it." Ignore that. They say that because none of us can take compliments. Inside we are squeeing that you noticed. (Note: Be genuine or say nothing at all. We can sense false praise faster than a cat can hear the canned food being opened.)

Be a buffer towards those who do not understand. Tell those who dismiss your loved one's work as anything other than "hard work filled with love" to fuck all the way off. Do feel free to be creative when doing so. You will immediately be a super hero and probably prevent that other person from having their brains ripped out through their nostril by a crochet hook.

DON'T:

Laugh when we say "Next year I will start earlier/make less/buy gift cards instead." Yes, we know we are just kidding ourselves and living in denial. It's a design flaw in a fiber artist's nature. Just hug us and move on.

Have a calendar counting down the days to the holiday they are working towards. Do not even mention time. Doing so will send them spiraling into an almost barbaric berserker frenzy. They will become the whirling dervish of the cartoon Tasmanian devil with fiber and notions being flung about. There is high probability you will be sucked into it and put to work. Unless you feel up to being conscripted into detangling a ramen noodle pile of yarn, sorting thread, or being used as a dress form dummy every ten minutes, just keep your mouth shut.

Play the "Let's mess up their counting by nonchalantly telling a story of our ancestor in 1583 who had 5 goats and worked 50 hours a week and made 100 clocks that told 20 different times..." Look, fiber artists are willing to do something that is so repetitive as to be injurous. Do you think a few more of such actions to turn you into a tasteful decoration will discourage them? Remember: we work with fiber, and a noose is nothing but a bunch of fibers twisted together and tied into a neat knot. Don't fuck with us.

Love y'all! Please take care of yourselves! Be safe and I hope to see lots of pics of finished projects!

[mentallyshattered]

This is part 3 of the "What if Yuu didn't want to go back?" Series!

(I, the author of this work, do not consent to this work being crossposted/translated without my knowledge or used to train an AI, ever.)

Masterlist

"Myaah, keep going!"

"Non, chat. You no longer need to be brushed. Vil, how is Yuu's hair coming along?"

Vil sighs. I've noticed he does that a lot. "Not as well as I thought, Rook. Even though the top layer was absurdly thick, the lower layers don't look much better. This is going to take longer than I expected."

I look up and into the mirror in front of me. Vil has cut my hair short, but the process of detangling the remaining mat of hair has caused the detangled hair to be noticeably longer than what's still a total mess. I'd say the hair he's worked through is about 4 inches, just long enough to cover my ears.

"Say, Monseur Mystery, how did you guess Monseur Chat's name?"

"Well..." I hesitate. Even now, the thoughts of his death still hurt. "When I was living in my world, I found a cat. He was my only friend. He was an alley cat, but chubby- not in a concerning or limiting way, just in a cute way- and he was grey with a large patch of white fur on his front, and his tail faded into black at the end, and... he had polydactly. I think that's what it's called, at least. Do you guys know what that is?"

"Nope!" Grim's reply is cheerful, like an island of comfort in a sea of mourning.

"Well, it's a condition where your limbs split off into multiple limbs. So, a two-tipped finger or extra toe or something. Well, my cat had it on the end of his tail. It looked, " I pause, reaching my hand toward Grim and trying, failing, to hold back tears. "Into three. A trident tail, just like this." I'm holding his tail in my hand now, careful, like he might break just as my voice is doing now. I can hardly speak through the lump in my throat, but I can speak.

"A-and that cat's name was Grim. And he was hit by a car when he was eight, and I've never been the same." I'm crying now, my eyes reduced to floodgates and my voice to a wreck. Vil is hugging me, his arms bringing some sense of safe to me, but that sense of safe pales in comparison to the comfort of holding Grim in my arms. His fur is soft, much softer now that he's been brushed, and Rook has joined the hug.

We stay there, just like that, for what feels like forever. Vil's arms are strong around me, as are Rook's, and I'm holding Grim again, and I don't want to lose him again. I can't. I barely survived the first time; I can't survive a second. The guilt would kill me.

"I guessed his name, too. I didn't know how. It just felt right. But... Yuu, you kind of remind me of someone. Another human. He fed me in my dreams, and his name was Yuu, and we were great friends, but one day he just stopped showing up. I never saw him again." Grim's previously sad face brightens a little, like a tea candle with just enough air to burn. "You look a lot like him, but older. Maybe... maybe he was you."

The tears come back. I let them. This time, they're happy tears, and Grim is crying them, too. Vil allows a few more minutes to pass, just like that, before he lets go and resumes his task of unmatting the other half of my hair. Rook pulls away, too, and waves his magic pen.

A tape measure, like you see tailors using in movies, appears in the air in front of him for him to wrap around my waist with skillful hands. Soon, he's removed the tape measure from my waist in favor of wraping it around my chest, and then my arms, and then Vil tells him off for doing something unnecessary.

I laugh. "Say, Monseur Mystery, have you tried to use magic since you arrived?"

I ponder. "Not really."

Rook chuckles. "Facinating."

"Are you okay with others being let into the room, Yuu?" Vil's voice is soft and soothing. I'm a little jealous, but who cares?

"Go right ahead." The lump in my throat is gone now that Grim is purring happily in my arms, just enjoying the sensation of being pet. Rook leaves the room- still holding his tape measure, I notice- and the door shuts behind him. Surprisingly, I don't hear his footsteps as he walks away, even before the door is closed and blocking my view.

Less than a minute later, the door opens again, revealing Rook, Korrak, and Korrak's familiar, whose name I do not yet know. Rook waves his pen, cleaning the cat brush with magic, and starts brushing the strange oppossum as he brushed Grim.

"Hey, what's your name? I'm Grim!"

"Call me Mandible."

Well, I guess I have a name to go with both of my roommates now. Unlike Grim, Mandible needs only a few minutes of brushing before his fur is even and soft, at which point Rook measures him, waves his pen, and voilá: five small stacks of clothing appear on the counter.

"What are those?" Mandible is already poking at the piles by the time he thinks to ask. I wasn't expecting Mandible to be more talkative than Korrak, but I guess Grim and I are no better.

"Uniforms! The white one is a lab coat for alchemy, the violet one is a dorm uniform, the one next to the lab coat is a PE uniform, the one next to the dorm uniform is a school uniform, and the one in between the dorm clothes and lab coat are some ceremonial robes. All are sized exactly for Monseur Opossum, of course." Rook looks quite proud of himself.

"Myaah, neato! Do I get some?"

"But of course, Monseur Chat! If you'll allow me a moment..." Rook starts measuring Grim just like he did with Mandible, and Vil lets out a triumphant "Hah!"

"Finally conquered my hair?"

"Not entirely, but I'm done with the hard part." With this, Vil pulls out a brush- not a cat brush, just a regular human brush- and starts running it through my hair in a soothing rhythm. Tired from the short day's events, I allow it to lull me to sleep.

[fallenclan]

Jattelik crouched amongst a clump of ferns, ears pricked. "What is it?" Sparrow wheezed, still catching her breath after the long trek.

"Shh. I heard something. Pawsteps." Jattelik wasn't in much better shape, his own heart racing like a hare being pursued by a rabid hound.

The pawsteps stopped abruptly, a brown tabby she-cat coming into view. A black and white tom was padding after her, tail dragging against the ground. Jattelik could immediately tell that the tom wouldn't be a threat, but the she-cat? The steady fire in her eyes told him all he needed to know. "We should wait," he hissed softly to Sparrow.

"Jattelik. . ." Sparrow whispered, her gaze rounded in shock. She was staring at the she-cat as if mesmerized.

"What?" he muttered, tail flicking in annoyance.

"I think that might be-"

"Who's there?" The black and white tom growled, ears pinning. The brown tabby she-cat's multi-hued gaze narrowed as well. "Show yourself."

"There's multiple of them," the she-cat hissed, her tone edged with cold fury. "Rogues."

"We're no threat," Sparrow mewed, cautiously stepping out from her hiding place amongst a swash of fronds. "We were just passin' through."

"Is that so?" The brown tabby took a threatening step forward.

"Back off," Jattelik spat, spine arching as he stalked forward, emerging from his own hiding spot. The black and white tom's eyes widened slightly upon seeing Jattelik.

"I don't think so." The brown tabby scoffed. "You're on FallenClan land."

"We ain't trying to cause trouble," Sparrow murmured, gaze darting between Jattelik and the brown tabby. "Promise."

The brown tabby seemed to relax slightly at Sparrow's words, claws sheathing. "Fine, but you wouldn't be so deep inside FallenClan territory if you were just 'passing through.' What are you doing here?"

Sparrow glanced at Jattelik. Grunting in irritation, the tom grit out, "I'm looking for some cats."

"Who?"

"Silverbelly, Hailcrash, and Moonstep. Know them?"

"I-" The brown tabby flinched as if she'd been struck. "How do you know them?"

Jattelik took a deep breath, paused. "They're my kits. My surviving ones, anyhow."

"Oh." The brown tabby stared. "I'm Cherrystar. I'm FallenClan's leader."

"Jattelik," Jattelik muttered in reply. "This is Sparrow." He motioned towards the gray she-cat.

"I'm Ripplefade," the black and white tom spoke hesitantly.

"It's nice to meet y'all," Sparrow hummed. "Can you, uh, introduce us to Jattelik's kits?"

"Introduce?" Ripplefade frowned. "You mean he hasn't met them?"

Jattelik's ears flattened in agitation. "Stay out of it."

"I wasn't trying to-to-" Ripplefade stammered.

"Enough," Cherrystar cut in. "Jattelik, how do we know you're who you say you are?"

"Is my word not enough?" Jattelik bristled.

"I don't know," Cherrystar admitted. "This is just a lot to process." When Jattelik didn't reply, Cherrystar continued, "Hailcrash was my mother."

"Was?" Jattelik looked stricken, the loss of another child he'd never even met hitting him like a stack of boulders.

"She died earlier this moon. So did Silverbelly, a few days ago."

Jattelik squeezed his eyes shut. "Oh, honey, I'm so sorry," Sparrow murmured, pressing herself against Jattelik. "Moonstep is still around, then?"

"Yeah." Cherrystar was watching Jattelik closely.

When the tom regained his composure, he asked, "So that means you're my granddaughter?"

" . . . yes. Look, Jattelik, why don't we all go back to camp? I-I believe you."

" . . . thank you."

…

"This place is incredible!" Sparrow exclaimed, eyes twinkling with delight. "Golly, it's no wonder y'all have so many cats living here."

Ripplefade let out a pleased purr. "I can show you around, if you want."

"Would you really? Oh, thank you, dearie. Such a sweet tom. I'm glad Jattelik's grandkit has such a thoughtful mate." Ripplefade seemed to fluster at the compliment, looking away while Jattelik shot him a sour look. On the journey to camp, Cherrystar had revealed a bit about herself, including her relationship with Ripplefade. "Jattelik, will you be all right with Cherrystar?"

"Hm." That was Jattelik's way of saying yes. With a dip of her head, Sparrow padded off after Ripplefade, chattering good-naturedly the entire way.

"Where's Moonstep?" Jattelik asked the moment Sparrow and Ripplefade were gone.

"He's out of camp right now, actually," Cherrystar admitted. "He went out on a walk with Quailcall." At Jattelik's blank expression, Cherrystar elaborated, "Quailcall is one of our clan's mediators. They help cats process things, sometimes."

"Oh." Jattelik glanced around. Several cats were staring at him.

"Why don't we go back to my den? We can wait for Moonstep to get back. I'll have someone come fetch us once he's arrived."

"Sure." Jattelik padded along after Cherrystar, feeling as though he were floating. After all this time, he was really in FallenClan's camp. The same place his second litter of kits had been born. The same place Toro had made her home. The same place his kits had made their home.

Once they arrived in the den, which quite frankly was far larger than any den Jattelik had ever lived in, the two cats sat down. "Can you tell me about my kits? And. . . and my grandkits?" Jattelik asked, gaze sweeping Cherrystar up and down. It was still a shock to him that this strong, well-respected she-cat was his granddaughter.

"Oh, sure." Cherrystar fidgeted. "It might take awhile."

"I have time."

"All right. I guess I'll start with . . ."

…

"Thanks, Quailcall."

"Of course. You can talk to me anytime."

"Yeah." Moonstep's tail swished dismissively. Talking to Quailcall had helped some, but a part of him still felt that the she-cat was too young to truly grasp what he was going through. He hadn't been particularly close to Hailcrash or Silverbelly, but they were still his sisters, his last surviving siblings.

Now he was alone.

To make matters worse, he could feel his clanmates staring. What in StarClan's name was making them all look at him like he might snap? "Moonstep?" It was Pocket who finally approached him, uncertainty in her gaze. "Cherrystar has someone in her den who wants to talk to you."

"Someone?"

"A loner," Pocket explained. Moonstep's brows furrowed. Padding past the warrior who Moonstep knew to be hopelessly pining after his nephew, the tom made his way to the leader's den. It felt wrong calling it Cherrystar's den. It had been Maplestar's den only a few moons ago, it seemed, and Goldenstar's den before that.

When he poked his head inside, he was met with Cherrystar speaking softly with a tom who bore a startling resemblance to the clan leader. "Cherrystar?" Moonstep questioned. Two pairs of eyes snapped to him.

"Moonstep," the stranger whispered, seemingly entranced.

Moonstep rose a brow. "And who are you supposed to be?"

"I'm, ah, I'm Jattelik," the tom rumbled.

"Yes," Cherrystar mewed slowly, "this is Jattelik. Ripplefade and I found him and his," she shot a questioning glance at Jattelik, "friend wandering around FallenClan territory earlier."

"Okay. So they want to join?" Moonstep sighed. As much as it brought him pride to see FallenClan so welcoming towards outsiders, he also knew that realistically the clan couldn't keep letting in new cats, not with so many kits being born as well.

"No," Jattelik interjected. "I wanted to meet you."

"Me?"

"Yes." Jattelik shot Cherrystar a nervous glance, causing the she-cat to nod encouragingly. Moonstep's bafflement was growing by the minute. "I'm your father, Moonstep."

" . . . what?" Moonstep stared. "Is this some sort of joke?"

"Toro was my mate," Jattelik mumbled. "I didn't know about you until very recently."

"Oh." Moonstep sat down. Staring at the ancient tom, Moonstep could see the striking resemblance her bore to not only Cherrystar, but to Hailcrash. Moonstep knew if he looked at his own reflection, he'd seem the same set of shoulders, pointed ears, and narrowed snout reflected back at him.

"How did you find out?" Cherrystar asked.

"One of your former clanmates, actually. I always thought the fella to be quite odd, but Sparrow convinced me to ask him about Toro and, well. . ." Jattelik trailed off.

Suddenly tense, Moonstep hissed, "What was the cat's name?"

"Otterslip," Jattelik said slowly, gaze narrowing. Cherrystar's ears flattened. Moonstep practically leapt out of his pelt.

"Otterslip?" Moonstep seethed. "That two-faced mongrel!"

"What? Did he hurt you?" Jattelik leaned forward, an absurd protectiveness sweeping over his features, as if Moonstep, an elder himself, was only a kit in need of protection.

"Otterslip murdered Stormsight. He tried to kill Silverbelly!" Moonstep had to stop to take a few deep breaths. To think that treacherous friend had been gallivanting with Moonstep's long lost father.

"He what?" Jattelik's voice suddenly dropped an octave, cold fury sparking in his gaze. "That damn brute. I knew he was no good. I'm going to tear him to pieces the moment I leave."

"Leave?" Cherrystar frowned. "Aren't you and Sparrow staying?"

"Can't," Jattelik answered almost immediately. "We. . ." he trailed off.

"I get it," Moonstep hummed, the cold flames of fury still simmering in his chest. It would take a few minutes to banish them fully.

"We can stay for a few nights. Moonstep, I want to get to know you." Jattelik mewed earnestly. "I want to get to know the cats who showed Toro hospitality. I want to get to know my kits' kits. My son."

"I wouldn't mind getting to know you, but I don't want you to have any false expectations. Toro is the only parent I have."

"I understand." Jattelik deflated slightly, but still pressed on, "Even if I can't be your father, I'd still like to be something to you, even if it's just that strange tom who stops by occasionally. For as little time as I have left."

"All right." Moonstep nodded, feeling slightly overwhelmed. "Can we talk later? I think I just need to go lie down." Truthfully, what he needed was to go find Quailcall again. He'd prefer talking to Mudsplash, but the older she-cat was going through her own grief right now.

Jattelik nodded. As Moonstep vacated the den, he could hear Cherrystar offering to show Jattelik around. Moonstep knew that the she-cat would be subtly trying to convince the tom to join the clan at some point. Honestly, the idea was somewhat frightening to Moonstep. In a way, life had been simpler an hour ago.

With a sigh, Moonstep made a beeline for the medicine den, where he knew Quailcall would be inside talking to Bristleheart. Even if Quailcall was busy, perhaps one of the clan's medicine cats would be able to offer some insight, or even some solace in their grief.

What an exhausting day.

...

"How did it go?" Sparrow tilted her head.

"Okay, I guess. He didn't seem too thrilled to meet me." Jattelik sighed, burying his face into Sparrow's fur. "What if this was a mistake?"

"It wasn't, Jattelik. Forming any sort of relationship with your son is going to take time. It'll be okay, I promise."

"I know, I know." Snuggling deeper into the nest he and Sparrow had been offered, Jattelik felt himself begin to drift off. It was weird, sharing a den with so many other cats. He and Sparrow had been offered a place in the elder's den for now, with Moonstep agreeing to give up his nest in favor of temporarily sleeping in the medicine cats' den.

Nearby, a black tabby with a frostbitten tail lay snoring, a fluffy black and white tom pressed against him. With a pang, Jattelik realized the black and white tom must be Flyspots, one of Jattelik's apparently many grandchildren.

As Jattelik closed his eyes, he felt Sparrow begin to groom his fur, her affection and warmth washing over him.

At least if things didn't work out with Moonstep, he'd always have her. For now though, Jattelik would hold out hope.

Perhaps there was still time to fix things.

-🐉

AUGHHHH MY HEART..... dragon your fics always manage to grab my feelings like a squeaky toy and stomp on them (/positive). I love the idea of Jattelik meeting the clan and his kids,,,,

[random-thought-depository]

A very preliminary, low-detail, and tentative outline of important events in the expansion of hominids through near-Sol space in my main science fiction setting (will likely be subject to some change before the "final draft" that will inform my actual stories):

2-.5 million years ago: Aliens transplant some early hominids to some Earth-like worlds in other solar systems. I have a few different models of how this might have happened:

It was a Star Trek Preservers sort of deal: the aliens did it as part of a much bigger project of encouraging the diversification and spread of intelligent life in our galaxy.

Aliens came to Earth and established a colony here. These aliens were giant beings, at least comparable to elephants or T-Rex, maybe even as big as the biggest sauropod dinosaurs. They domesticated early hominids, finding it useful to have servants who were much smaller than them, had hands, and were smart enough to follow simple commands (so a little like @o-craven-canto's Gods of Salt scenario). They found their new domesticate useful enough to transplant some to some of their other colonies.

Similar to 2), but instead of being domesticated, a population of early hominids infiltrated the alien colony on their own initiative and became something roughly equivalent to urban racoons. Some of them eventually followed the aliens to the stars in approximately the same way mice, rats, and cockroaches will likely follow humans to the stars.

2) and 3) are compatible and might both have happened: domestic animals often go feral and survive as ferals in urban environments (see: pigeons, stray dogs, stray cats, etc.), and domestic dogs and cats probably started out as wild hangers-on attracted to the resources of human communities.

In the case of 1) the aliens would have had only scientific interest in Earth, the entire point of the relocation effort would have been to establish viable "wild" hominid populations on multiple worlds, and the relocation program probably looked kind of like our wolf re-introduction programs and the like. Once the aliens made a thorough study of Earth and were confident that the transplanted hominid populations were doing OK, they stepped back and let nature take its course.

In the case of 2) or 3), the aliens eventually disappeared for some reason (I have one idea that we'll get to later), leaving behind populations of hominids who survived by returning to something much more similar to the lifestyle of their "wild" ancestors. The alien colony on Earth might have existed during an era when sea levels were lower than they are now and been on what's now the Sunda Shelf or something like that, hence why its remains weren't found before the twenty-first century.

Significantly, all this happened long before our ancestors got as smart as we are. The hominids I'm talking about here might have been early Homo erectus who peaked at intelligence roughly equivalent to a human toddler. Or maybe this was even farther back and I'm talking about Homo habilis or something like that. Modern humans tend to pre-empt biological evolution with cultural innovation, e.g. faced with a cold climate, we invent warm clothing long before we might evolve fur, and therefore humans living in cold climates have no evolutionary impetus to evolve fur. Less intelligent early hominids probably did that to some degree too (control over fire is pretty old), but, being less smart than us, they'd have been less insulated from environmental selection pressures. So when these hominids were exposed to alien environments, they tended to start to evolve in different directions from their ancestor species on Earth. There was usually a tendency toward increased intelligence and self-domestication over time, eventually resulting in species about as smart and social as Earth humans, but a lot of these transplanted hominids got kind of weird before that happened or during that process (example: these people). So my setting is a bit All Tomorrows-ish.

15-13,000 years ago: One of the species descended from the transplanted hominids developed a high-tech civilization of their own.

Significant and relevant digression: in my setting, I think I'll go with a multiple filters explanation for the Fermi Paradox - with one of the filters being the Berserker option. I think the history I'm about to outline makes more sense if these not very successful interstellar colonization efforts I'm about to describe were more-or-less waves of refugees. I don't have a clear idea of what The Threat is at this point, except that it's something that's destroys emerging starflight-capable civilizations. I'm tentatively thinking it'll be something similar to the Omega Clouds from The Engines of God, but I don't have anything firm yet.

If I go with options 2) or 3) for how early hominids got transplanted to worlds in other star systems, The Threat is probably what destroyed the civilization of the big aliens. In that case, my guess is the hominids survived but the big aliens didn't because, with their high-tech civilization gone, the large size and hence large caloric requirements of the big aliens made them much more vulnerable to, well, a lot of things that kill off long-lived slow-breeding species.

The Threat destroyed this first hominid civilization to develop, probably within a few centuries of them developing interstellar travel capability, but before that happened this first hominid civilization managed to send out at least one slower than light colonial expedition, aimed at Sol.

Travelling at maybe .1-.2 c, the colonists endured a voyage of maybe 2-400 years by spending that time in a form of suspended animation. They arrived at Sol maybe 14,000 years ago, during the late Pleistocene great warming. They found a cool and wild but warming and relatively inviting planet, mostly thinly populated by hunter-gatherers, though a very early agricultural society existed in the hilly flanks of the Fertile Crescent. The colony ships were parked in orbit and the settlers descended to the new world and established a colony; tentatively, the primary colony site was near the mouth of the Shatt al-Arab, in a lowland that's now part of the Persian Gulf (I'll have to look up exactly how the coast in that region changed over time - I'm aware that technically the Shatt al-Arab is less than 10,000 years old, but I think there'd have been a similar river running through the lowland that's now the Persian Gulf in the ice age?).

The colony did OK at first, including establishing good relations with the native humans. With their advanced technology, it was easy for the colonists to gain favor with the native humans by giving them things from plastic bottles to vaccinations against common local diseases. The various major and minor colony sites soon developed satellite settlements of native humans attracted by the benefits that could be obtained from association with the colonists. There weren't all that many colonists, so the colonial society had a need for labor, so this arrangement was beneficial to the colonists too. Though technologically primitive, the native humans were as clever as the colonists and could be trained to operate and repair high-tech machinery, and their children could be educated to do the same. The colonial society and their native human associates soon began to merge into a mixed society. Though separated by something like a million years of evolution and biologically distinct, the colonists and the native humans were still similar enough to interbreed, so the two populations soon began to merge biologically as well, forming a hybrid species (a bit like the hominid equivalent of coydogs). Even including assimilated native humans and their descendants, the colonial society was never very big (maybe a few hundred thousand people at its peak), so there was plenty of room and resources, especially since the colony continued to maintain some space capacity and supplement their resources with asteroid mining.

Things might have gone OK for as long as a few centuries, until The Threat followed the colonists to their new home. Anticipating this possibility was a big part of the reason the colonists had chosen to maintain their space program, and many of them chose to respond to this development by fleeing again, seeking another, new world where they hoped they would finally be truly safe. The old colony ships, which had been maintained and used as orbital platforms, were refurbished and refueled for another centuries-long journey. It would be a riskier journey than the first one; the ships had deteriorated, and they would need to be modified to carry more passengers; the cryo-tube bays were dutifully expanded to accommodate the results of generations or centuries of population growth, including cultural assimilation of native humans; this meant the fuel tanks would need to be expanded too, or some mass of supplies and equipment would have to be sacrificed, or a lower delta V and hence extra decades of travel time and a proportionately increased risk of equipment failures on the journey would have to be accepted; every extra pound of passenger or cargo meant fifteen extra pounds of fuel; in the end, a mix of all these sacrifices was made.

A minority stayed behind, taking their chances on Earth, not trusting their survival to overloaded decayed rockets that would be called on to operate centuries past their best-by date, not trusting their survival to the hope that The Threat would not follow that exodus to its destination in turn. They watched the brilliant comets of the departing fusion rockets slowly dwindle in the night skies.

It would take centuries for the departing rockets to reach their destination system (tentatively, the star 82 Eridani). When they arrived, they might not have dared send a transmission to notify the ones left on Earth that they'd made it; they were running from an enemy that had found the refuge on Earth, after all. Even if they had dared send such a message, by the time it arrived there might not have been a working radio receiver on Earth capable of receiving it. The exodus had taken much of the colony's population and equipment with it. There was The Threat. And then any remnant of the colonial society that survived that was finished off by the Younger Dryas cold snap and the end-Pleistocene sea level rise. The rising oceans closed over the primary colony site near the mouth of the Shatt al-Arab and the secondary sites in Sundaland and Doggerland. The orbits of any remaining satellites decayed until they fell into Earth's atmosphere and were destroyed. The last descendants of the colonists mixed with the native humans and interbred with them and disappeared into history. On a few near-Earth asteroids some traces left by colonial mining operations remained; they would sit undisturbed for the next 13,000 years.

The exodus from Earth was successful, if one sets the bar for success at survival. The decaying colony ships held together all the way to 82 Eridani. When the time came for braking, the magsails unfurled and charged and caught the interstellar medium, making rockets with exhaust velocity equal to the flotilla's forward velocity, slowly bringing the flotilla to a velocity that would allow it to be captured by 82 Eridani's gravity. The colony ships came to rest in orbit of the Earth-like world in 82 Eridani's habitable zone, and the refugees from Earth went down to their new world in shuttles.

But the effort exhausted the colonial society, which's resources were never very large. The new society on the new world in the 82 Eridani system was unable to maintain a viable high-tech civilization; they had the tools, but they didn't have all the tools they needed to make the tools anymore. So they slowly regressed to a society of low-tech subsistence agriculturalists and hunter-gatherers, not much more advanced than the society that now existed on Earth. In the process, the descendants of the colonists and the descendants of the Earth humans they'd mixed with fully merged into a single hybrid species, though a regionally heterogenous one with different traits in different regions resulting from demographic differences between the initial settler populations of various initial colony sites.

The remaining societies on Earth and the 82 Eridani planet may have survived because The Threat is programmed to destroy starflight-capable societies (and societies with technology advanced enough that they could easily become starflight-capable) and they were now too primitive to trigger its target-recognition systems.

4-3,000 years ago: the Eridani civilization: The humans on 82 Eridani's Earth-like planet eventually developed a high-tech civilization of their own, though it took them about 10,000 years.

The Eridani high-tech civilization followed the same general trajectory as the hominid civilization that came before them: lasted some centuries and then was destroyed by The Threat, managed to send out some slower-than-light colonial expeditions before being destroyed, but these expeditions were launched in desperation and weren't well-equipped to form a viable self-sustaining high-tech society in their destination system, so most Eridani colonies regressed to relatively low-tech agricultural societies within a few centuries of their founding.

The Eridani and/or the Pleistocene hominid civilization may have invented hyperdrive shortly before the end of their civilization, but if so the invention came too late to do them much good, basically just allowing them to send out a secondary wave of refugees.

The Eridani weren't able to give their colonies the best start, but they were fairly prolific at sending out colonial expeditions. Most present-day human populations are descended from Eridani colonial expeditions.

3-4,000 years is long enough for a lot of cultural change, but not long enough for much biological evolution. However, the Eridani were the product of a regionally heterogenous hybridization between Homo sapiens and another hominid species, and the genetic bottlenecking of interstellar colonization sometimes interacted with this in ways that gave the populations of certain colonies a distinct "look." Also, early in their development Eridani colonies sometimes anticipated the loss of high technology (they had the tools, but they didn't have all the tools they needed to replace the tools) and decided to use the window in which they still had functional space age legacy technology to genetically engineer their descendants to better tolerate the conditions of their new world (e.g. colonists on a high gravity world might genetically engineer their descendants for better tolerance of high gravity); this meant Eridani expansion caused a considerable increase in human physical diversity.

The Eridani were recent enough that present society has relatively good records of them and most of humanity has a relatively strong cultural memory of their society (present day Earth humans are one of the major exceptions regarding the second thing). The civilization that sent the colonial expedition to Earth in the late Pleistocene might be about as mysterious as the Minoans, the Eridani are going to be about as mysterious as the classical Romans or ancient Egyptians (that is to say, there's probably going to be some significant gaps in our knowledge about them, but their society will be basically pretty well understood by present humans, we'll know the names of a lot of their leaders and so on, we'll be able to read their literature, and a lot of people and institutions will have used continuity with them as a prestige claim over the centuries).

The Eridani probably sent a colonial expedition to Sol, but the Eridani colony on Earth did not thrive, eventually went the way of the Greenland Norse, and had minimal effect on Earth's history and cultural development. There might be a record of contact with them in some ancient Egyptian tomb inscription, if you know what to look for.

[astrolotte]

as much as i love splatoon lore. you all know i love splatoon lore. as much as i love splatoon lore i am not afraid to admit that a lot of the impact is lost via the storytelling methods.

For example, the Sunken Scrolls. a HUGE part of the lore is from here. and a lot of impact is lost simply because these scrolls don't allow for any further exploration. At most you'll get a few scroll pages (a paragraph for each page) on a topic. Like the fact that Judd was from the human time and was cryogenically frozen.

If they wanted to explore that concept, it could be devastating. He had an owner, a human who loved him very much. A human who loved his cat so much that, when faced with the end of the world and the resources to only save one person, he elected to save his cat. But instead of a big story with drama and heartache, we get like 3 paragraphs on it, and then... nothing.

Humanity's downfall is another big devastating lore beat, obviously, and to its credit it does have somewhat of a focus in Splatoon 3, via the Alterna Logs! Instead of a picture of a human skeleton with a Wii U nearby (a canon sunken scroll btw), we have multiple mini stories on how the survived, and how they died. The Alterna Logs are GREAT, and in my mind they're impactful! Even the fact that you can only unlock them a few sentences at a time via completing missions didn't stall it too much, as the logs tell a whole story rather than a tiny lore dump.

But it's.. not always treated that way. There's the previously mentioned drawing of a human skeleton with a Wii U right next to it (a gamer to the end...) and characters regularly mention that humans are dead without a care. Which, y'know, makes sense. Humans are long extinct, and the fish have no attachment to them. But it does negate a lot of the meaning.

Then there's cases where the drear is hidden away within mere implications, like with OE's "hundreds of dead test subjects" beat. While it's fun to sit there and have it slowly dawn on you that many test subjects likely did get blended up, it really messes with the impact of it.

My final point here is the areas of the lore left unexplored. The biggest instance of this, imo, is the Octarian society, which we... know next to nothing about. We know they live underground. We know they are in the middle of a power crisis. We know that they can be inspired by Calamari Inkantation to leave. But what about their daily lives? What is it like deep down in Octo Valley? What is it like to live in the middle of a power crisis like that, and what is it like under Octavio's rule? This could be such an interesting perspective, but we're left with next to nothing. A few Sunken Scrolls, and a few bits of poetry from Agent 8, but after that...

Like I said, I love Splatoon lore, truly. It's fun and it's dark and it's crazy. But a lot of its impact, its meaning, its passion, is left with less simply due to the way its told.

As weird as it might be to suggest, I kinda hope we get a Splatoon spinoff that's not a multiplayer shooter, something that can properly explore the lore and let people process just how devastating it really is. It's one thing to say all of humanity went extinct, and it's another thing to really feel the impact of that.

I know the developers have passion for the world they made. That's apparent with just how much lore we have in general- if they didn't care about the world of Splatoon, we wouldn't even have an explanation for why Inklings are humanoid. Or, well, for the vast majority of things in the game. No one really needs to know that microbes in the air are what make the ink disappear after games, but we have that information because the developers love what they made.

I just hope that we eventually reach a point where this can be properly explored.

[skylar-jay]

So what the heck happened to Felinguard?

A Cat Quest 2 ramble by yours truly. (Spoilers ahead!)

So something that's been on my mind for a while is the dialogue you get in Felinguard's tomb. It goes as follows:

[After the Dragon Wars, King Felingard united the surviving cats under one banner... And thus, the Kingdom of Felingard was born...]

[King Felingard and King Lupus were friends once... ...that is, until the great Kingsblade War.]

[After the Kingsblade War, our king disappeared and never returned... And thus, this tomb was built in his memory.]

The main thing I wanted to discuss was the part about Felinguard disappearing. I find it interesting that's the wording that was chosen. He didn't die, he disappeared. Meaning clearly nobody knows if he's alive or not.

Now, by the time the second game happens in the timeline, he's probably dead, but who knows how long he was alive after he vanished?

Thanks to some of Kirry's dialogue we know Felinguard was a Dragonblood

[Wait, what? A dragon was guarding the Shard?!]

[ ......]

[Well, King Felingard himself was a Dragonblood... so it's not surprurrising... ... but no one's seen a dragon since the Drakoth incident... hmmm...]

(I also find it hilarious that after this you encounter dragons multiple times. And based on a side quest, other people have as well, but I digress)

So, Felinguard was a Dragonblood, but what does that have to do with how long he lives? Well, Drakoth was the very first Dragonblood, and while we don't know how long after the dragon war the first game takes place, it's certainly long enough for a lot of information to be lost and forgotten. And for a few generations of people to grow up and die in this kingdom. So obviously Drakoth had been alive for a while, though we can't say for sure how long he could have lived because he was killed at the end of the game.

Of course Kit and Hotto have been alive for a long time, too. While I personally don't think they have any relation to the dragon war outside of foraging armor and weapons and foraging the Kingsblade, I won't rule it out as a possibility.

Speaking of the Kingsblade!

With the help of Kit and Hotto, Felinguard and Lupus foraged the Kingsblade. While the purpose of it us unknown, we know they did it after the dragon war, and that it drove a rift between them. (Lupus and Felinguard first, then Kit and Hotto as well. It's an interesting coincidence, but we know that it was the war over the Kingsblade that drove Kit and Hotto apart. Why the Kingsblade war even started is still a mystery. All we know is that for some reason tensions began rising between the kings about who should own it, specifically on Lupus' side, but I'll get back to that.) We also know that after the war Lupus and Felinguard agreed to shatter it. I'm assuming here that's the last time Lupus or Hotto saw him.

So, why was the Kingsblade foraged in the first place?

Well, it was done after the Dragon war. From what I remember, near the end of the Dragon war the true nature of the Dragonblood was discovered (that being: Aelius planned to use them to take over). It's very possible the Kingsblade was made just in case Aelius escaped the Zero Dimension (we saw how that panned out (not very well) but it's the thought that counts). Part of the reason I think this is due to the fact that the royal energy is strong against Aelius. (It basically overrides the elemental system, except for Aelius who apparently has his own element separate from the basic arcane.)

So assuming it was created under the assumption Aelius might escape, why was there so much tension between Felinguard and Lupus?

Well, we know Felinguard is s Dragonblood, and according to history, all Dragonblood were loyal to Aelius. In the second game it even mentions some sort of oath:

[Loyal to Aelius were the Dragonblood,

sworn to oath for the coming flood.

When banishment came,

they fought with might and claim.]

We know that Aelius created the Dragonblood through some sciencey shenanigans (I've always assumed it was some sort of magical concoction, due to the fact that the Old Masters were already studying dragon magic and how they fly, but perhaps an oath was formed before anyone could become a Dragonblood).

Perhaps it's this oath that drove the first kings apart.

Another question I've had is: how did the other Old Masters find out about Aelius' plan? Someone had to have let it slip. And if Felinguard had fought on the side of Aelius, would the other cats had even been willing to follow him?

I like to think that Felinguard betrayed Aelius and broke the oath. After finding out what Aelius really wanted to do with the Dragonblood, he told the other Old Masters. I imagine this probably made him enemies especially with Drakoth, who literally died willingly for Aelius.

This does paint Lupus as untrusting and paranoid--seeing as Felinguard betrayed the guy he was supposed to be loyal to for the greater good--and perhaps when Felinguard found out Lupus was worried about the oath still he was a little hurt.

Though Felinguard seems to have been pretty charismatic when he was alive, or at least had a lot of allies--

[A King needs not blade nor trinket to unite his people... ...he need only allies to trust, and peace shall follow...]

(this is implied to be a quote from Felinguard himself, the only thing directly from him that we get. Even then, it's hard to say how much he actually lived by these words)

-- so even if there was evidence against him it was probably disregarded by the people around him.

And, we don't have any information on what happened during the Kingsblade war (perhaps something in the side quest involving Rufus would relate, but I've always saw that as a separate war based on how the corrupt king looked similar to a lynx cat. But that's for another post), but we do know a little about what happened after.

Felinguard and Lupus agreed to shatter the Kingsblade. Thinking about more, it probably really was just a bad argument between them where Lupus was being paranoid, and Felinguard was hurt that his friend would be suspicious of him at all.

(side note, it's really funny how these characterizations of the first kings I'm forming here are similar to those of the second game's protagonists based on Lioner and Wolfen. I have some WIP posts about that, who knows when I'll get to them lol)

In the end, the Kingsblade was no more, and shortly after Felinguard vanished.

Now this seems like the end of this whole ordeal, but not quite.

You see, Lupus lived on after Felinguard disappeared, and probably ended up dying of old age (which would rule out the possibility of him being a true Dragonblood in secret for future ideas)

The reason I think this is: he literally had the key to his own tomb?? Which he then just. Gave to Hotto?

This brings up other things, too!

Like, why isn't the tomb for the founder of this country open to the public? Why did Lupus feel he could only give the key to someone he trusted? ↓

[Also, this was gift from King Lupus when he still alive. Hotto not know purpose till now...]

[Hotto gives you the Key of Lupus!]

(Obviously Lupus had to have given it to Hotto knowing he would be dying soon. Otherwise, why was the tomb even constructed?)

To answer these, let's look back at the game:

Both tombs of the first kings help you unlock your royal arts permanently, where previously you needed the Kingshards to use them (it's a whole 'the powe is in you!' type thing, but the context around it makes it interesting.)

Maybe Lupus knew his tomb would hold the key to this powe for his descendants? (Someone else had to have constructed and hid the key for Felinguard's tomb, unless he had that done before disappearing. And perhaps he hid the key instead of giving it to Kit because he was afraid a friend would turn on him again. That leaves interesting ideas on him intending to disappear, and preparing for it, which leads me down a much, much darker path of thought than I was intending).

But now the question is: what even is the royal arts/Kingsblood power, and how did Lupus (and Felinguard maybe) know it existed?

Obviously they were connected to it somehow, and that power is connected to the Kingsblade, so maybe the power came from the Kingsblade? But where'd they even find the shards to make it? That I can't say. I've always liked the idea of the Kingsblood gene being related to the Dragonblood gene, so maybe Felinguard also stole Aelius' notes on the Dragonblood and his plan and reverse engineered some things. But that's just a shot in the dark, and it's not actually important to this line of thought when the power came from, just where it went.

Speaking of, the only way to get the true Kingsblade was to combine the forces of both cats and dogs, didn't even need the shards to make it! I wonder if, when shattering the Kingsblade, Lupus and Felinguard absorbed some of that energy. Wether it was on purpose or not is up in the air, but I think it would be interesting that, because they didn't plan on being friends after the war, it was another measure to make sure the wrong person didn't get their hands on it, and it could only be remade when peace was ensured. (So much for the not getting into the wrong hands thing.)

That then, could be why the Kingsblood gene exists at all (and why Lupus has it). And perhaps Lupus and Felinguard stored some of that power in their tombs to keep their descendants from abusing it.

But I've gotten wayyyyy off topic. Wasn't this post about what happened to Felinguard?

Well, let's go back to that other thought I had.

My original thought was that Drakoth had something to do with this, but just making this post has given me far more ideas than I expected (I really should be sleeping... But I gotta get this out or doom this post to the WIO graveyard)

While I won't completely rule out Drakoth's involvement, it's possible he was doing something else at the time, like figuring out how to free Aelius.

So, let's say Felinguard really did plan on disappearing: why? And in what way?

Maybe he left to protect his kingdom, perhaps there really was something up with the Dragonblood gene and he had to leave, or maybe he knew Drakoth would come after him. Or maybe it was suicide. (While I don't particularly think it was that, it's certainly a possibility. Just not one I want to think about too deeply at 1am.)

Though up to this point Felinguard has been portrayed as noble and kind, willing to put himself on the line for what he believes, so I feel one of the former is more likely. It's really hard to say though since we know next to nothing about these guys, any interpretation works as long as you can support it I guess. (I personally like the idea that Lupus was somewhat justified in hid paranoia, and there really was something wrong with Felinguard due to being a Dragonblood, and whatever that oath was (didn't specify what kind of oath!), and that it was actually Felinguard who started the war.)

I think it could also be neat if Drakoth did the same thing with Felinguard that he did with the first game protagonist, and had a fight to the death (that he clearly won) to free Aelius. It obviously didn't work. Maybe he did it wrong, I don't think he would have had access to the Zero Dimension at this point after all.

Anyway, end of post, I need to sleep.

[sylwanin-was-right]

It seemed like Spider didnt mind who his dad was as much as he was treated for who his dad was, which honestly makes me question his motives for the next movies and whether he'll truly side with Na'vi after he made the decision to save Quaritch (despite what a threat he was to entire clans and his semi-adpoted family).

I say this because its questionable how much sympathy Spider extended to Quartich over the course of a few months despite what Quaritch did and what he exploited him for. Spider was understandably desperate for parental figures since his mother died in the war when he was a baby, Quaritch was possibly cold to him in infancy, and Jake and Neytiri didnt fully accept him as a son ("...like a stray cat"). Quaritch technically died, which Spider could have been old enough to understand the impact of that early in his life, and Quaritch's artificial peservation and literal transformation could have revived his interest in knowing him. However, whats troubling about Spider's paternal-origins crisis to me is how much it overshadows a theme of collective family the film could have explored.

He lived for a long time without nuclear parental figures because much of the science crew (Norm, Max, etc) and to limited extent, Jake and Neytiri (though moreso Jake) were many people Spider could to look up to. In the scene where Spider is a baby running around the base in his diaper, a woman catches him and picks him up affectionately, and at the Camp, Spider is playfully teased by Norm. Soider is met by Max with warm affection at the lab. And of course, Jake and Neytiri's kids adored Spider and treated him as a brother. We can even speculate that Spider had chances to find parental figures among the Omatikaya Na'vi, like Mo'at and other surviving clan memebers. So its believable that Spider got adequate affection and attention from a collective "family" of humans, Avatars, and some Na'vi for most of his life. I feel that this makes his character's desperation to see a father figure in Quaritch a weird writing descision, because it doesnt make much sense for how old Spider is (how long hes been without a singular paternal figure) and how many parental figures he's already gotten opportunities to have between Na'vi and humans.

I havent read The High Ground so maybe there will be explaination there. Perhaps Spider didnt recieve much affection from the human crew, and perhaps most of his childhood was spent isolated among the humans and not amongst Na'vi. Maybe Spider felt he didnt know enough about Quaritch to take everyones word that he was a threat rather than just a dutiful man completing a mission. Whatever his motivations, they werent very clear in the movie, and the progression of time in the film wasnt very clear to me, so his initial hostility then sudden mellowness around the humans and RECOMs when offered protection felt a bit unjustified.

Also I know that people say Spider being a traumatized, isolated teenager—a first gen Pandoran human—is what led him to sympathize with Quaritch, even in a stocholm syndrome way, which is understandable. And I see how it can feel gratifying knowing someone whos still somewhat your dad has spared you from torture and death many times out of need and maybe even out of sympathy. And maybe Spider felt some typa way about Neytiri baiting his life to free Kiri (though he seemed to understand and remained relatively calm when in her clutch). But when you witness your father in charge of a fleet that put knives and guns to your siblings heads, captured and tortured them to bait and kill your adoptive dad (the nicest to you out of your nuclear family), then saw your father bait your closest sibling's life with a knife to her throat, its a bit hard to sympathize with... sympathizing with your father figure, especially since Quaritch could have had multiple motivations to spare Spider that had nothing to do with him as a son (like the liability of having a child killed on his mission, the dissatisfaction of having your arch nemisis get her way, the disturbing nature of witnessing child death firsthand in an intimate attack rather than from a distance by impersonal means, like missles, etc).

To me it just feels like Spider was written to have a crisis specifically about his father to parallel with Kiri (and to better flesh out Quaritch's gradual change in character), but it feels disproportionate since Spider doesnt seem to wonder or care who his mother was in the movie, and doesnt seem to have a similar connection to her as Kiri does with her mother(s). It honestly feels a little unnecessary? Or rather hamfisted, because of the flaws I described, and because of how Spider's actions dont really add up considering how much we didnt see in the movie and how poor Quaritch was as a father figure in that context (using Spider initially as hostage bait then as an interpreter).

So Spider's dilema about Quaritch isnt necessarily a bad thingjust to be clear. I think its an interesting story. I just think the eay it was presented in the movie leaves a lot more questions about the writing choices than about where his character is headed. I just dont care for all these religious and male/patriarchal based parallels, personally, and Cameron's focus on paternal relationships in the form of Spider's confusion about how to feel about Quartich just.... doesnt add up imo. I feel this is a main reason I dont care for Spider's character (aside from the actor's performance and his placement almost exclusively as fodder for Quartich's arc, imo).

Hopefully A3 and reading The High Ground will have more answers and make Spider's sympathies to Quaritch and his desperation for a father figure make more sense in context.

[angelnumber27]

love u so much! sometimes life will seem like it has more downs than ups, but just know we (humans) are ever changing and we have the capacity to literally rewire our brains. it's never easy to change from 0 to 100 or even 0 to 50, but it is possible. i am truly so proud of the growth you have shared over the past few years and always remember you are special. you are truly beautiful inside and out. your intelligence, humbleness, and inner charisma is something no one will ever take away from you ❤️. even in times where you think there is nothing for you in this world, just know you have a little community here cheering for you (some quietly and some loudly)

I love you! ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

My goodness thank you SOOO much for saying this. I currently live solely with someone who has never acknowledged my strength or things I have overcome as far as my severe mental health struggles, being close to death multiple times, suicide attempts, addictions of all kinds, and the work I have done in recovery and healing. I have some people who are really wonderfully supportive of me and remind me that it was a very difficult thing I did and that I’m so strong and survived so many things and that I should be proud and for that I am beyond blessed and grateful but in my day to day environment I unfortunately do not get to see said people.

And exactly! I have made text posts similar to what you said about how we are all unfinished beings and oddly enough I actually have posts about rewiring your brain as well!

Anything is possible for anyone if I did what I did as far as getting clean from fentanyl in my own bed all alone half dead in horrid withdrawals w no meds or help like… anybody can heal from or overcome anything if I was able to do that, especially under the circumstances of being amidst the worst heartbreak I’ve ever experienced (5 years gone) and having to attempt to put the pieces of myself back together after horrible daily severe abuse and awful trauma. On top of really really bad mental issues I was having at the time. And he took our sweet angel cat in the breakup which tore me up. All of that emotional agony on top of the physical agony I was feeling after suddenly not having the incredibly strong pain killing drug my body had become so accustomed to taking every hour in my system for the first time in 3+ years was so unbearable. I am truly surprised I made it through that. And I’m still going through it. But I’m here. I’m alive against all odds and statistics

Message to everyone: if I did that, you can do that thing you swear you aren’t able to do. I promise. You will never be 100% ready and sometimes things will be very scary but you owe it to yourself to try your hardest anyway.

This is the most sweet beautiful thing…. Thank you endlessly for your kindness, the world needs more beings like you 🧚🏻‍♂️🥹 I don’t deserve this omg you’re so damn sweet

I absolutely adore my little community on here. You guys are the greatest most supportive loving angelic people and I’m sooooo lucky to be able to interact with all of you!!!!

This is so long I’m so sorry lmfao

Have a wonderful day/afternoon/night wherever you may be my love 😇🧿

[dm-clockwork-dragon]

Ok, like, I do get the concerns people have but as someone who grew up with 15+ cats in an urban area (yes, my mom was an animal hoarder to some degree, and that is its own issue), I have a few things to say on this:

Is going outside dangerous for my cat? Yes. Of course. Anything other than sleeping is dangerous. Especially if you declaw your cats or otherwise remove their natural tools of survival. Especially if you cat has only ever lived inside. But if your cats are primarily rescued strays? They are prepared for that danger. We lost cats on occasion, sure. We even had one shot by a neighbor once. But "I want to keep my baby safe" is no more an excuse to deny your cats a fulfilling life outside your house than it is to keep a child locked inside for their entire life. That's just sorta a bunk argument to me. Cats are natural predators and survivors. We bred them for that. Locking them inside is not any more humane to the cat than letting them take risks in the big scary world outside your doorstep.

Are housecats an invasive species that threatens native animal populations? Sortof. Yes, cats are invasive, and they do totally prey on native wildlife such as birds, rodents, snakes, and lizards. Its literally why we domesticated them. But my friends, that ship sailed about 100 years ago. I'm not saying we should let feral cat populations run unchecked. Spay and neuter your goddamed animals, please. But my one tabbycat is not destroying the ecosystem, and neither are the 200 housecats in a 10 mile radius of me. That honor goes to the population of 2000+ feral cats, who have already carved out a niche - albiet a destructive one - in my local area.

The thing is, felis domesticus has been around for longer than some species have even existed, and genetic investigation tells us that cats have been domesticated multiples times around the world in total isolation of each other. At this point, while they *are* invasive predators, they have been around long enough that the ecosystems have adapted.

What the native ecosystems have *not* adapted to is urban sprawl, deforestation. And total habitat loss. Feral cat populations skyrocket in highly urban areas, not because they are super predators capable of outcompeting native predators, but because humans kill off native predators and natural habits in favor of artificial environments that We - and our domesticated friends - find more favorable.

So no, I don't feel bad about letting my cat loam the neighborhood and live life as he was bred for centuries to do. I feel bad that they are currently bulldozing half the forest a few blocks from my house, which supports a thriving population of deer, coyotes, birds, rabbits and other native biodiversity, despite the presence of a similarly thriving population of feral cats, that has been here for more than 100 years. "Cat owners are destroying the environment" is just one more example of scapegoating individuals to distract from the damage done by human industry and corporate greed. Garfield is not the fat cat destroying ecosystems for profit.

[translations-by-aiimee]

The Husky and His White Cat Shizun - Chapter 27

Original Title:  二哈和他的白猫师尊

Genres: Drama, Romance, Tragedy, Xianxia, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 27 - This Venerable One Will Cook You A Bowl of Noodles

Chu Wanning felt completely faint.

He blamed himself for being so distracted and unsuspecting on Life-Death Peak. He didn't even notice someone come over.

What was going on? Where did this child come from? His last name was Mo, but Mo. . . what was is again. . . ? Mo Shao? Mo Zhu? Mo. . . Yu?

He composed himself and put on an expression that screamed: "get away". The surprise and panic in his phoenix eyes were quickly masked by his usual harsh and threatening demeanour.

"You—"

He raised his hand out of habit to discipline him, but something suddenly caught his wrist.

Chu Wanning was stunned.

He had been around for a while yet no one had ever dared grab his wrist so casually. For a while, he was frozen in place, not knowing what he should do.

Pull it away and give him a backhanded slap?

. . . It felt like a good word to describe that would be "indecent," like he was no different from a woman in this situation.

Then pull his hand away and not slap him?

. . . Wouldn't that seem like he was being too nice?

Chu Wanning hesitated for a long time and didn't move but the young man laughed: "What's this on your hand? It's pretty good-looking, do you teach how to make stuff like this? Everyone else has introduced themselves already but you haven't spoken yet. Which elder are you? Hey, do you have a headache?"

With so many questions thrown at him, while Chu Wanning's mind hadn't hurt before, now it did.

His mind felt like it was about to split in half. . .

As he got irritated, a golden light in his hand started to glow. When they saw that Tianwen was about to be summoned, the other elders were horrified and moved - Chu Wanning was crazy, right? He would even dare to whip Young Master Mo?

Then, Mo Ran was suddenly holding his hand.

Now Mo Ran had trapped both of his hands. Mo Ran didn't up on the danger of his situation. He pulled him closer and stood in front of him. He tilted his head and said with a smile: "My name is Mo Ran. I don't know anyone here, but just from looking at you, I like you the most. How about I worship you as my shizun, okay?"

This was completely unexpected. The people around them were even more horrified. Several elders gaped with mouths ajar.

Elder Xuanji: "Huh?"

Elder Pojun: "What!"

Elder Qisha: "Oh?"

Elder Jielu: "Uh. . ."

Elder Tanlang: "Hah, ridiculous."

Elder Lucun was the most feminine of the bunch with wavy hair and eyes flooded with peach blossoms: "Ah, this little boy is so bold. He's truly a courageous young man. He might even be so bold as to touch Elder Yuheng's ass."

". . . I beg you, can you not say something so repulsive?" Qisha said with disgust.

Lucun rolled his eyes gracefully and hummed: "Fine, let me put it more eloquently. He's truly a courageous young man. He might even be so bold as to touch Elder Yuheng's buttocks."

Qisha: ". . ." Just kill him and forget this ever happened.

The most popular of all the elders was the gentle and jade-like elder Xuanji. His techniques were easy to learn, and he was a modest gentleman. Most of the disciples on Life-Death Peak worshipped underneath him.

Chu Wanning originally thought that this Mo Ran would've been just like all the others. If not Elder Xuanji, then it should be the energetic Elder Pojun. It never should have been his turn

But Mo Ran was standing so close to him. His face showed a kind of intimacy and affection that was unfamiliar to him. He was like some clown that was just chosen. It was all so distressing for no reason.

Chu Wanning only knew how to deal with "awe", "fear" and "disgust". Something like "affection" was too complicated.

He didn't even have to think about it. He immediately rejected Mo Ran.

The young man froze. Hidden under his slender eyelashes, there was a sense of loneliness and unwillingness in his eyes. He lowered his head, thought for a second, and unreasonably muttered: "Anyways, I still choose you."

Chu Wanning: ". . ."

The Lord was watching with great interest. He piped in with a smile:, "A-Ran, do you know who he is?"

"He didn't tell me, how would I?"

"Haha, since you don't know who he is, why would you pick him?"

Mo Ran was still tugging on Chu Wanning's hands. He turned his head, smiling and said to the Lord: "Because he looks the most gentle and easiest to talk to."

In the darkness, Chu Wanning's eyes snapped open, everything appearing fuzzy.

. . . That was one hell of a scene to see.

He didn't know what the hell was wrong with Mo Ran's eyes back then to actually think that he was gentle. Not to mention that all of Life-Death Peak heard about it. They all sent affectionate greetings to Young Master Mo Ran with looks that said "look at this foolish kid".

Chu Wanning lifted his hand to the corner of his faintly throbbing forehead.

His shoulder hurt, his mind was in turmoil, his stomach was hungry, and his head was spinning.

It seemed like he wasn't going to sleep anytime soon.

He fumed on the bed for a while. He sat up and was about to light a stick of incense to calm his mind when suddenly there was another knock on the door.

Mo Ran was outside.

Chu Wanning: ". . ."

He didn't answer. He didn't say whether to stay or leave.

But this time, the door opened by itself.

Chu Wanning looked up gloomily. The lit match in his hand hovered in mid-air but never reached the stick of incense. After a while, it went out.

Chu Wanning said: "Get out."

Mo Ran strolled in.

He was holding a steaming bowl of noodles, fresh from the pot.

This time it was a bit simpler. The noodles weren't as fancy. The rich white noodle soup was garnished with chopped green onion and white sesame seeds, small spare ribs, bok choy, and a slightly browned poached egg.

Chu Wanning was incredibly hungry but he didn't let it show on his face. He glanced at the noodles, then at Mo Ran. He turned his face away and didn't say anything.

Mo Ran put the noodles on the table, and gently said: "I asked the inn's chef to make another bowl."

Chu Wanning lowered his eyes.

Sure enough, Mo Ran didn't make this dish himself.

"Eat some." Mo Ran said. "This bowl isn't spicy, has no beef, and no bean sprouts."

After speaking, he left and closed the door for Chu Wanning on his way out.

He apologized for Chu Wanning's injury.

But he could only do so much.

In the room, Chu Wanning leaned against the window, not knowing what to think. He crossed his arms and stared at the bowl of spare rib noodles from a distance until the heat of the noodles dissipated and they grew cold.

He finally walked over and sat down. He picked up the chopsticks, stirred up the cold and soggy noodles, and slowly ate them.

The case of the Chen family's haunting had been closed.

The next day, they picked up the black horses they had boarded from inside the stables and returned to the sect the same way they had arrived.

In the streets and alleys, tea stalls and rice shops, the people of Caidie Town were all talking about the Chen family's affairs.

The not-so-small town had broken out in scandal, one large enough for the townspeople to talk about it for a whole year.

"I didn't expect that Young Master Chen had been secretly married to Miss Luo for so long. Miss Luo is so pitiful."

"If you ask me, if the Chen family hadn't gotten rich, they wouldn't be able to survive this affair. Sure enough, men can't handle their money. Once they have money, only misfortune will await them."

One man was unhappy and said: "This wasn't Young Master Chen's fault. It's his parents' fault. Mr. Chen, that son of a bitch. His children and grandchildren should only give birth to children without assholes in the future."

Another said: "The dead are pitiful but what about the living? Look at Chen Yao, Yao Qianjin. She's the one who's truly been wronged. That black-hearted mother of the Chen family deceived her. Tell me, what should she do now?"

"Just get remarried."

The man rolled his eyes and sneered: "Remarried? Are you here to get married?"

The mud-coated man who was teased bared his teeth and picked at them, grinning: "If that woman at home agrees, I'd marry her. Ms. Yao looks so beautiful, I don't mind her being a widow."

"Bah, the toad wants to eat swan meat*."

(T/N: 癩蛤蟆想吃天鵝肉 - means having unrealistic wishes or expectations)

Mo Ran sat on the back of the horse, ears perked up, listening to all the conversations in high spirits. If it weren't for Chu Wanning's closed eyes, frown, and the words "extremely noisy" essentially spelled out on his forehead, Mo Ran might have wanted to go join the villagers.

They walked together and finally left the main city, arriving at the outskirts.

Shi Mei suddenly gasped and pointed to the distance: "Shizun, look over there."

In front of the ruined Master of Ceremonies Ghost's earthen temple, there was a large group of peasants in brown clothes and shorts. They were busy moving the bricks and stones. It seemed that they were planning to repair the damaged earthen temple and remould the golden body of the Master of Ceremonies Ghost.

Shi Mei said anxiously: "Shizun, the old Master of Ceremonies Ghost is gone but they've made a new one. Will this be cultivated into an immortal body again and do evil?"

Chu Wanning: "I don't know."

"Should we go and persuade them not to?"

Chu Wanning: "The custom of ghost marriages in Caidie Town has been around for several generations. How would you or I be able to persuade them in just a few words? Let's go."

As he spoke, dust flew up from the horse's hoof and he walked away.

It was already dusk when they returned to Life-Death Peak.

Chu Wanning said to the two disciples in front of the mountain gate: "You go to Danxin Hall and explain what happened. I'll go to the Court of Discipline."

Mo Ran looked puzzled: "Why would you go to the Court of Discipline?"

Shi Mei, on the other hand, looked worried: ". . ."

Chu Wanning nonchalantly said: "To receive my punishment."

Although it's said that an emperor commits the same crime as the common people, what emperor would actually have to go to jail for killing someone? The same goes for the cultivation world.

The elders who break the sect rules are as equally guilty as the disciples - in most sects, it's just empty talk.

In fact, if an elder breaks a rule, it was good enough just to write an apology letter. What fool would actually go to be punished with a willow vine or dozens of sticks?

So, after listening to Chu Wanning's explanation, Elder Jielu's complexion turned green.

"No, Elder Yuheng, did you really. . . did you really beat your client?"

Chu Wanning was indifferent: "Yes."

"You're so. . ."

Chu Wanning raised his stare and gave him a sullen look. Elder Jielu shut up.

"According to the law, for breaking this rule, the punishment is two hundred cane strikes, kneeling in Wushan Temple for seven days, and being forbidden from leaving the grounds for three months." Chu Wanning said. "I have no defence, and I voluntarily accept the punishment."

Elder Jielu: ". . ."

He looked around and hooked his fingers, and the door to the Court of Discipline closed with a clang. The surroundings fell silent, and it was only the two of them that stood opposite each other.

Chu Wanning: "What's the meaning of this?"

"Well, Elder Yuheng, it’s not that you don't understand the rules and their consequences, it's just that it shouldn't be something that you should be overly concerned with. This matter is finished. Let's forget it. If I beat you, won't the Lord be angry with me when he finds out?"

Chu Wanning didn't bother to talk such nonsense with him and simply said: "I hold people accountable according to the law, and I should also be held accountable myself according to the law."

Kneeling down in front of the hall, facing the plaque of sect rules, he said:

"Punish me."

[aceopmari]

If the Straw Hats Had a Reality Show Dedicated to Pirates Headcanon! Ft: Law!

With how infamous the pirate crew gotten, it was only natural that they were soon granted the rights to have their own reality show, like other famous pirates in the Grand Line and the New World.

Get ready for Keeping Up with the Straw Hats!

Luffy: Whether it was his strength, or his childlike innocence, Luffy was a fan favorite!

He often ignored the producers suggestions to make the show more interesting.

Luffy didn’t like when the producers told him to punch a random person on the street when they were visiting an island.

Was not getting paid, as he owed the producers over 10,000 berris for punching the camera one time in anger, when the director attempted to take his meat away. The director was only making a suggestion for a much healthier diet for the star of the show.

Luffy also skipped out on a lot of confessional sessions. Mainly because he really didn’t have much to hide to begin with. But if he did go, it was mainly to either show appreciation for his crew or to make public declarations:

“Sanji’s cooking the BEST!”

“Do we get free meat with this show?”

“I’m going to kick Mingo’s ass!”

Zoro: The viewers found Zoro amusing! Whether it be him constantly getting lost, or his heated arguments with Sanji. The producers would rush over to him, cameras and all whenever they caught the two together.

Zoro was surprisingly popular with female viewers. They enjoyed watching him sweat whenever he would work out in the crows nest.

Zoro didn’t care about the show really. Just as long as he gets to work out, drink booze, and sleep, he’s good.

The producers always looked forward to his confessionals after he fights with Sanji:

“That damn shitty cook! Just who the hell does he think he is?!”

“That curly brow dumbass is gonna get himself killed one of these days!”

Sanji: Was angry that Zoro was racking in more views from the female viewers than he was!

Why him?! Why not me?!

He kicked the camera man straight in the chin when he told him that Zoro was naturally more popular than he was.

Sanji desperately tried to win over the female viewers by showing off his fighting skills or his culinary expertise.

He was excited when he finally got some fan mail from the fans!

It turned out to be from the okamas though…

If Sanji went to the confessionals, it was usually to cry about why women weren’t interested in him…or to talk shit about Zoro:

“Just what does he have that I don’t on this show?”

“Why aren’t all the beautiful ladies watching me?”

Little did Sanji know, he caught the eyes of Violet and Pudding.

Nami: An absolute slut for the camera! The producers LOVED her!

One couldn’t tell who was using who more. All that mattered was what would bring them more views and more money.

Whenever it was filming time, Nami would purposely wear a bikini without the jeans to draw in the male viewing audience.

Add the extra seductive act she would put on, and nosebleeds would cover millions of transponder snail television screens.

Loved to give tours of the Sunny and show off her designer clothes.

Would parade around the islands, using Momonosuke as an accessory to manipulate the fans into loving her more.

Nami LOVED to take advantage of the fanbase, often subtly asking for gifts mainly money through the fan mail she receives. Next to Robin, she had the most.

Nami became very vain and strict with the crew on how to present themselves for the camera and had to keep members like Luffy in check to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid to cause the show to be cancelled. But just in case, as a backup, she could always start an Only Fans.

One might say that the fame and fortune was getting to her head, as she would purposely start up drama whenever she was out on an island. Would probably steal from a city mayor if it meant she could get the fans taking for weeks.

Whenever she was in the confessionals, it was mainly to complain about Luffy’s or Zoro’s antics.

Would probably shit talk about Robin, although faking it the whole time, to get some drama started:

“Honestly! I wish Luffy would just use some common sense for once!”

“Robin thinks she’s all that! But everyone knows, I’m the prettiest girl on the show!”

“I’ll let you film me in the bath. It’ll cost you 1 million beri!”

Franky: Loved the camera! One sided on the producers part since they didn’t enjoy Franky’s sense of…ahem…style.

He would dance, be loud, or show off his cool body.

If he was in the confessional room, it was to complain openly to the producers on why they did him dirty.

“Hey! I saw last weeks episode! Why did you cut my scene out, bro?!”

Ussop: Although not nearly as popular as Nami, Ussop was interesting enough to get some viewers watching the show, even unintentionally.

Ussop used the show to make himself seem cooler, mainly through the confessionals.

The lies he told caught the attention of viewers worldwide, though very few could sees past his lies.

The producers didn’t care, so long as there were viewers.

“Yes it was I! The Great Captain Ussop who defeated CP9!”

“Wait wait! Cut that out! Cut that scene out! I meant SniperKing!”

Chopper: The Worlds Favorite Cutie Pie!

Choppers looks alone were enough to win the hearts of viewers! Mostly the female reindeer mink.

Combine that with his child like innocence and he’s instantly a popular household name!

On top of that he already has many sponsorships from multiple sweet brands. (Mainly cotton candy ones.)

Choppers pretty shy on camera and often does his usual dance when he’s nervous. The audience eats it up.

He doesn’t gossip. When it comes to confessionals, he’s usually talking about Zoro’s recklessness when it comes to bandages, or Sanji’s nose bleeding habits.

Jimbei: Not particular interested in TV or fame, but used being on TV to his advantage to spread his word and try stop discrimination against fishmen.

The producers found him boring and didn’t look forward to filming him, especially at confessionals…but at the very least, he was able to bring in views due to his former status as a warlord.

Robin: Had many admirers! She enjoyed being on the show. Often is seen on screen on a lavish shopping trip with Nami.

She does her part to make the show more interesting, whether it is be her dark sense of humor or putting her devil fruit powers to good use.

She once used it on a producer when he asked her to do something suggestive for views. After that, the producers never messed with her again, out of fear for their lives.

Not much for confessionals though, except when she’s expressing how amused she is at Luffy’s antics.

She may appeared to be calm and quiet but you better believe that the rumors she would stir up, would get the people talking!

Piers Morgans was having a field day with the headlines:

“Did Cat Burgler Nami Get Breast Implants?!”

“Roronoa Zoro: Honorable Swordsmen or Man Thot?! Gets Caught Sleeping with Wano’s Most Beautiful Woman!”

“Is Monkey D Luffy, Secretly Seeing His Crewmates Sister From the Germa Kingdom?!”

Brook: Fans loved seeing Soul King on screen. In some episodes he’s either playing music or he’s attempting a panty raid in Nani’s room. Which often results in him getting beat up by her every time.

Anything he says in the confessional‘s ends up with his signature laugh.

Law: Made a special guest appearance since starting hiw alliance with Luffy.

You can imagine his look of surprise, when the crew showed up on Punk Hazard with a camera crew and all.

He wasn’t at all interested in being on TV. His famous “I hate bread” made him an instant fan favorite. And meme along the fanbase.

He didn’t like that…

Law hated being followed around by the camera crew on the Thousand Sunny or when he simply just wanted peace. He frequently scolded the producers to stop or told Luffy to call off the cameras, but neither listened.

He only wanted to discuss the alliance plans in private with the crew and didn’t want the producers to catch any of it for the world to see.

As time went on, and Law was getting sucked into the Straw Hat shenanigans. He found himself wandering into the confessional where he would frequently complain about the crew. Mainly the captain.

“Mugiwara-ya will be the death of me…”

“Rorona-ya has no sense of direction…”

“How has the crew survived this long? They don’t ever strategize when it comes to making a plan!”

Viewer Reactions:

Sabo: Enjoys watching his little brother on screen, and always has a good laugh. Koala would often scold him for abandoning his duties to go watch the show.

Hancock: Would briefly abandon her duties as Pirate Empress for the whole day if it meant, she could watch Luffy on screen.

Took up most of his fan mail, and gifts that had meat.

Hancock would be envious of Nami and Robin on her screen, wishing she was their with Luffy.

Mihawk: Reality shows weren’t his usual choice of television entertainment, but he did watch, soley to watch over Zoro’s progress as a swordsmen. He would lie if Perona asked him if he found what he saw the slightest bit amusing.

Ace: He got a kick out watching his little brother on screen. Often laughing at Luffy’s antics. He saw that Luffy’s crew was slowly riding in more views on the reality show The WhiteBeard Pirates had. Ace wasn’t too worried but he knew he had to step it up.

Shanks: Often shaking his head and smiling in amusement at the sight of Luffy on screen. Would sometimes watch the show with Ace as the two spoke fondly of him.

Big Mom: Was furious that Luffy was racking in more views than her crew combined. Everyone used to love Big Mom’s wedding cake special episodes.

“MUGIWARAAAAA!” *Smashes TV*

Garp: Nearly choked on his crackers at the sight of his crazy grandson invading his screen.

“LUFFY NOOOOOO!”

Smoker: If any marine soldier was caught watching, Keeping Up with the Straw Hats, you better believe that he’ll would be raised at HQ. in secret though, he would watch it. Not for entertainment, but more so to study the Straw Hats moves.

Buggy: Screeching out in jealously seeing Straw Hat Luffy was popular enough to be given his own show and not him.

Kid: Was sitting at a bar one night and spat out his drink in anger at the sight of Straw Hat on his screen.

Nearly popped a blood vessel when he saw Law on screen.

“The hell?! Even Trafalgar?! How come those bastards get their own show?!”

Killer remained silent. He knew the reason why the Kid Pirates never picked up the rights to a pirate reality show was because of how scary Kid was.

Dragon: Used the show as a way to keep up with his son. Although in secret, since he didn’t want his army to notice.

Germa 66: Mixed reactions.

“That’s no son of mine.” Judge would say.

Reiju giggled at the sight of the screen. After a mission, she would look forward to watching the show to see her brother.

Ichiji, Niji, and Yonji expressed annoyance and criticized Sanji. Although would never admit that they were each jealous that Sanji got to be on a reality show instead of the Germa Kingdom itself.

Yamato: Wants to be on the show. Not for the fame, but mainly to spread the word and tell the world what a horrible father, Kaido is and spread Oden’s legacy to the world.

[tideswept]

Life updates under the cut! As it deals with uncomfortable topics, please do not read unless you a) truly want to know and b) feel that you can handle it.

if the answer is no to either of those, this is the casual tldr: I'm fine, just tired and busy. 💖 love you all, hope the holidays have been treating you well, fics coming soon!

HMM. Are you still here? Last chance to turn back. Think wisely.

Welcome concerned friends and busybodies alike. I'm not a sentimental person, so forgive the blunt rundown.

My mother killed herself in September as a final "fuck you" after I told her I wanted to move out. She had undiagnosed B(orderline)PD. If you know what BPD is and how it manifests in extreme cases, well, there you have my mother.

Unfortunately, I'd quit my job in order to essentially do her job for her, because I couldn't do two full time jobs and take care of her 24/7. I won't go into the thick of it, but for context's sake, let me just say that in the background of this whole sordid tale also skulks a) her HIV diagnosis and multiple months-long stays in hospitals where she became so infamous for her mental breakdowns that hospital staff to this day flinch when she's brought up, b) an abusive asshole stepfather who didn't let me leave the house for almost a decade, c) Scientology and d) 16 years of being illegal in the US.

Skip forward to now, and the only reason i survived this long was because of the kindness of you all, a few distant relatives, and my best friend--and pity from my landlord, who should evicted me weeks ago, but are seemingly waiting until Christmas is over.

There is no social help where I am. Perhaps there was pre-COVID, or pre the Republicans that have been destroying Florida, but it doesn't exist now. The help that there is (from churches and such programs) are exclusively for families. Pregnant women. The one shelter that's available I was warned to not go to no matter what by every volunteer and social worker I spoke with. They all told me the same thing; the informal name for that shelter is Rape City.

My last hope, as well as my last resort, was my mother's younger sister who lives a few cities away. Two days before Thanksgiving I laid my case out to her, the things I'd attempted (in trying to get a job, programs i'd applied to, etc.) and if I could please sleep in her garage for 4 months while I saved up money, because I truly did not think I would survive on the street.

Her responce was not kind. In the end, I accepted that she truly did not care and bid her goodbye. (It's very unfortunate that my mother named me after someone who hated both of us. I hope to be able to pay for a name change eventually, as we have the exact same first and last name.)

In the end, the landlords didn't kick me out when I kept bracing for the knock on the door that somehow still hasn't come. And my best friend has gone above and beyond to help me on a path out.

So, I'm okay. Currently been living without power for a few weeks, turning the house inside out to consolidate what I want to take with me. Heck, I even deleted my Animal Crossing save to start over. (Judy, I will get you back, I swear.)

Been applying for a new place to live, playing mental Tetris for what to take. I found homes for two of my cats, but three will be going with me. I leave so much behind and... it's fine. I'm taking what's important with me.

SO ANYWAY, that's the update, sorry for all the introspective nonsense 😅. I'm done packing and cleaning the house. I'll be moving either into a hotel or a new place in a few days. All is good. Been writing on my phone/tablet when I have the battery to spare, so sorry for some SERIOUSLY overdue updates and replies. I will be getting back on top of things this weekend. ❤️

Now, back to writing unrepentant smut.

Oh, and in case you might be wondering; yes, I'll be spending Christmas alone in less than ideal conditions, but holy fuck do I LOVE Christmas. And I intend to have the very best one I've had in many years. 🎄

Friends! Fellow countrymen!

My time online will be limited for a few days, I'll reply to things when I return. ❤️ Leave me reminders here if needed!

[the-abysmal-and-aberrant-bard]

Shout out to my corrupted Minecraft world

R.I.P. to “Survival Oley” my first serious survival world that I shared with my brother. Before this world all we had done was mess around in creative and pretend to be in survival. The world was named after the pledge that we would be “survival only”, except my brother misspelled the word “only” and the rest is history. It’s data was corrupted today and the world is no longer with us.

We had this world since 2018 (possibly 2017), not very long in the grand scheme of things, but long enough that we had a lot of memories there. We hadn’t been on it in the last year or so, but we thought to revisit it today. The system crashed for whatever reason and the whole world was corrupted. When we realized it was gone, my brother broke down and cried.

This post is my final goodbye to this world. Survival Oley was where I truly experienced Minecraft for the first time and I became a better player because of it. We never defeated the ender dragon or the Wither on it (because we weren’t that good). I’m really going to miss it.

Good bye to:

Geo the orphaned polar bear (a personal favorite)

Cat the dog

Dog the dog

Cactus the dog

Snack the pig

my many sheep (I believe I had almost every possible color)

All of my brother banners and flags

the house we built together

the docks we built together

the tower with NO purpose, but looked cool (it had fire on top) that we built together

the farms that I built

the cobblestone wall surrounding our base that I built

every cursed Nether portal my brother built

the enormous cobblestone sign outside of our base that was my brother’s name (guess who built that)

that one wither skull that my brother hung up in his room (it was the first one he had ever gotten that wasn’t from creative mode)

the mountain side I dug out for our enchantment room

the giant cave I dug out because I didn’t understand how strip mining worked, but we still used as a battle arena against mobs

My Impaling IV trident with mending and loyalty III (I was really proud of this because I got all the enchantments from fishing, so much fishing)

all of our diamond armor

the multiple sets of iron armor we left around (I swear we traded them like Pokemon cards)

the mesa biome that had a woodland mansion plus a savanna/desert village next to it and was within a thousand blocks of our spawn point

that one snowy village that my brother had claimed, where I had “fixed” the paths

the desert village that neighbored the snowy one, which I promptly claimed and tried to “fix”

the two ocean temples next to each other

the cursed buried treasure I never found. I had accidentally wasted multiple treasure maps on this thing. Even after setting up a base on site and digging out the entire chunk, I still never found this chest. I had considered digging out the chunks surrounding the “X” on the map, but at that point I decided to walk away. This thing was my literal nemesis for a few irl days 

Anyways, there is some good news. We have a saved version of this world, the problem is that it was saved at the point where we still lived in house with a dirt roof. Big oof, but it means we have the seed, we can rebuilt if we want to. Knowing that makes the lost less impacting for me, my brother on the other hand is still pretty bummed out. To any Minecraft players who might read this, keep mining and crafting and whatnot. To everyone, treat people nicely, keep playing video games and try not to rage quit.

[youarejesting]

Sea [1/2]

Beta: @lillielil @aroseforyoongi​ @seokjinssymphony​ @kpooplifeforever​ @explosiveranga​​ & my good friend Z (let me know if I left anyone out.) Rating: 17+ Pairing: Idol!Yoongi x Reader Genre: Action, Adventure, Angst, Fluff, Comedy, slow burn, slice of life. Words: 6.8k

Summary: After your plane to Korea takes an unexpected detour, you are stranded with someone you aren’t even sure speaks English. As the race begins to stay alive, emotions run high and tempers short. The unlikely contender in the survival race is love which snuck up on you both.

The thought of a thirteen-hour flight didn't bring you much joy. Why would it? Being trapped in a small box with wings, not to mention being stuck in said box with multiple people breathing recycled farts and eating some sort of wet styrofoam they called food that would most definitely give you food poisoning. Oh yes, what a joy it would be to be in a seat for hours on end, letting your skin slowly dry up. 

Arriving at the terminal, you stood waiting for them to start boarding. You would have been sitting if there was a single seat free. Seriously, some asshole had even dared to lay across no less than five and a half seats, his bag resting on the empty chair at the end. 

He was wearing all black and looked comfortable in his jeans and hoodie. His black cap pulled down over his eyes and you could see the bleached blonde hair sticking out from underneath. Big chunky headphones on his ears made it possible for this man to drown out the world around him.

You glared at his legs, growing tired, knowing that within a few hours you would be begging for the chance to stand up. If you were to take a mental count, there hadn’t been any nice experiences you could recall in regards to traveling on a plane.

Did that reflect the quality of service or your standard of air travel? No. Obviously, your standards were realistic, not expecting the flight time any shorter or the staff to give a foot massage or anything outrageous. 

You really didn't want any extra luxuries other than what was offered in the pamphlet — and yes, that meant you chose first-class — because if you were to suffer, you would do so in the best environment.

Unfortunately, the reality of it was that there was no better or more comfortable way to travel. Checking in, you would be boarding first before the other passengers, not really a privilege. However you got in line anyway behind the young man who had previously been lounging across the airport seats. He was holding up the line having lost his passport and you were getting more and more pissed. 

You were simply just having a bad day. 

A woman behind you started openly arguing, exclaiming that this man was not allowed to ride first class as he clearly wasn’t fit for it. Bringing up his style of dress and the headphones around his neck. You turned, glaring daggers at the woman until she became silent. 

Society taught people to judge based on appearance, that everyone fit into a category, never mind the old adage to ‘never judge a book based on it’s cover’. Stil, you were always respectful and treated others equally, maybe even getting to know a person that you wouldn’t in other circumstances. It always surprised you how much you enjoyed taking a risk and getting to know them.

Once you showed your ticket and passport, you traveled down the long hall towards the plane. You saw the man in front of you talking with another man. He seemed to respect him and was reading him a schedule from his phone. You raised your eyebrows and smiled at the young stewardess who welcomed you on board. Her hair was pristine in a tight bun and her crisp, dark blue outfit was paired with a red scarf.

Stepping over the small gap, you felt the cold of the air conditioning, yet the air still felt thick. There were three places you could go to feel this type of cold: the dentist, an airplane, or the movies. First class was spacious with only a single cubicle on either side of the aisle. You took your seat. It was like personal rooms where you could close a sliding screen for more privacy, even though you were sitting next to someone, you wouldn't be able to see them at all.

The seats were more like arm chairs that one could lay back completely in, made with a brilliant blue leather. The cubicle room was complemented in a similar shade but with red features. You had a tv and a tiny minibar that had a small selection of drinks and snacks.

The flight attendants took all the passengers through the safety instructions. You could practically write them at this point. However they added a few things you had never heard. You had never heard such in-depth instructions going beyond the general life jackets, floatation devices, and first aid kits. 

Never before had they told you about the airbags that would be deployed if you crash in the ocean. Apparently the emergency escape slides doubled as floatation devices and could hold up to one hundred and thirty people comfortably. They even explained how they detach these rafts from the fuselage and that they have ropes that allow them to be tied off to each other or the airframe. 

Distracted by a tired male sighing beside you, you wondered who would fall asleep during the safety messages. Sure they were boring, but even you pretended to care. When you turned to see the culprit, he was disappearing behind the plastic divider of his cubicle dragged by his long pale fingers.

Well, at least you had some privacy. It was something you were thankful for, you wanted to get comfortable, or as comfortable as you could.

Perhaps these new instructions and information were deemed irrelevant to domestic flights. Or perhaps it was for the very enthusiastic kid they led through the first class discussing more of the plane's anatomy. “What if a wing falls off?”

“The plane is really sturdy, the wing wouldn’t just fall off” She grinned, “Let’s see what the pilot is doing and we can get your mum a picture wearing the captain's hat!” 

After the flight attendants thanked everyone for listening, the plane took to the sky. You closed up all sides of your cubicle and requested to be only woken for meals. The stewardess was very diligent and for that you were grateful. 

The journey was nearing the six hour mark and all that one could see was clouds and the ocean. The collection of empty water bottles were a poignant reminder to relieve your bladder. 

You stood up and waddled determined to go to the bathroom. It was inconvenient to drink so much water but you didn't want to get dehydrated. 

Feeling much better, you took a few minutes to look in the mirror and moisturise as your skin was feeling particularly dry already. Startled from your self care routine by a light rapping on the door, you packed up your things and pulled open the door. Unfortunately, at that moment, the plane shook.

It was like something from a romance novel, the way you fell against him and yet, there was nothing elegant or poetic in the way you fell against him.

Your face slammed into his chest and his head hit the wall with a heavy thud. "Sorry, I'm sorry"

"Shibal" he said, his language was something unlike you have ever heard, it was rhythmic and sounded like a song. His voice was so low and rumbly it almost sounded like he was purring. 

You weren’t well versed in other languages or cultures, so you didn’t know what he was saying. This was your first time leaving your country. If it wasn’t for the damn holiday raffle at work, you wouldn’t have even left your house. Every other flight you had ever been on was domestic and therefore your suffering was short lived, but this flight was long and you were getting rather bored. It seemed your mind was reeling trying to absorb all that it could and currently that meant the poor man you had body slammed into the wall was under your perusal.

His body was thin unlike yours which was curvaceous. His hair was dark and shaggy making his pale skin almost ghostly. He had sharp cat-like eyes that were quite intimidating as they glared at you and his small downturned lips were yet to speak. He seemed like a man of few words. All this coldness was juxtaposed by his cute round nose. You could tell from his features that he was from Asia, but you couldn't pinpoint where.

Grabbing your shoulders, he started to push you off of him, when the plane shook again and you both fell back into the small bathroom. Your back hit the toilet, and a searing pain bloomed from the impact causing your body to lock up as it radiated through you.

The seat belt light came on. You both scrambled to your feet bumping into the walls, sink and each other from the unstable winds shaking the plane. Struggling back to your seats when the cabin pressure changed. There was a creaking sound and the plane started shaking. You immediately felt a sick sense of dread. The pilot spoke calmly about turbulence and requested everyone return to their seats. But the pair of you couldn't move down the aisle to your seats.

There was a sound like a car backfiring and someone from economy class shouted about the wing being on fire. Your grip on the young man's coat tightened and a terrifying sound like metal groaning filled the cabin. That didn’t sound like regular turbulence, you were sure of that.

Sharing a horrified look with the young man, you got up the courage to try to push off from the wall. Unsuccessful, you were once more pressed against the wall. The plane was plummeting. Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted the emergency box. What was this emergency and what in that box could fix this situation?

"You need to return to your seats,” the stewardess said. The smell of smoke was strong and it filled the inside of the plane quickly. You hadn’t even seen the stewardess trying to climb through the plane. Her grip strained on the walls and seats as she fought against the force pushing her back. “We are making an emergency landing." 

The metal sound was louder. Shrieking like nails on a chalkboard, it pierced through the cabin. You watched as the side of the plane ripped completely off with the ease of someone removing the plastic off a new fridge. There was a feeling of being weightless before a drop on a roller coaster, and then it was like your stomach was left behind. The stewardess was sucked out from the cabin behind you. 

You and the young Asian man were sliding backwards down the aisle trying to find something to grab onto. The floor in first class was some sort of linoleum and gave you a nasty burn as you slid. It was like fire against your skin. As the pilot fought with the plane, you practically bounced off every seat. 

It felt like you were weightless for a brief moment as you were lifted off the ground, your back hit the roof before you smacked the floor again. All the wind had been knocked out of you. 

The pilots were fighting against the drop, so in the moment of calm before the plummet, you grabbed the leg of an economy class seat as it was bolted to the ground. You looked at the young man, watching the panic as he realized he was too far away to hold on and dangerously close to the large opening. He began slipping out of the plane, his hands flailing before clamping around your ankle. The two of you were almost hanging outside the plane. 

Everyone in economy class was panicking and wearing oxygen masks. No wonder you couldn’t breathe. Gasping for breath, you cursed yourself for liking all those action movies that made this look easy. 

“Hold on!” You all but screamed more to yourself than the poor guy holding your leg. He was being completely battered by the wind. You felt his hands slipping and you reached down with one hand to grab his wrist and he grabbed yours. He looked thankful.

“Shibal,” he groaned, his voice straining. Your body was being stretched. The cold metal was unforgiving, and it tore apart the skin on your palm. Your eyes were watering in protest to the wind and smoke that was drying them out.

The drink trolley that the stewardesses had been moving through the aisles had gotten loose and went flying down the plane. It hit an old man in the back of the head. You knew he wouldn’t make it, and speaking of, it was headed straight for you. You watched in fear, like some horrifying game of chicken as the trolley came for you. Thankfully, it bounced on the floor inches from your hand and flew out of the plane. 

It was a mix of flinching and the force of the wind that made your hand on the chair slip. You slid further out of the plane, grabbing the exposed shell of the plane with your free hand. Your other hand desperately clutching the young man's hand watching in horror as he smacked into the side of the plane unconscious. “Shit!” 

His body was limp and you had to do something. With all the strength you had, you tried to pull his flailing form closer to protect him. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the ocean quickly advancing. You were going to hit the water.

The breeze pressing against you was fierce. Your eyes were dry, making you think of your eyedrops in your carry-on luggage. You could see the water coming up quicker now; you tried to gauge what would be a survivable height. Knowing you had a higher chance of surviving freediving as opposed to hanging halfway from the plane, where you would both slam head first into the plane. You decided to take the leap.

Screaming in absolute terror as you watched the fast approaching water, you let go just in time. It was equivalent to a few stories on a building from the ground. Wrapping him in your arms, you pointed yourselves down deciding to break the fall. Lifting your free hand above your head like you were doing a high dive, you hit the water. It was such a shock, the liquid was so cold it caused your muscles to lock up.

Your adrenaline was pumping, and one of your arms felt numb and unresponsive. You swam oddly to the surface, gasping when you felt the air on your skin. He was unconscious, and you held his face out of the water.

The plane wasn't too far away and for now was on the surface of the water. The emergency exit inflatable slide, which doubled as a raft, had been deployed but no survivors seemed to climb out.

You swam in a side stroke to keep your damaged arm and the young man's unconscious form out of the water. You hoped he was going to be okay. The only thought in your head was making it to the raft and you were doing everything in your power to get there, even contemplating leaving him behind. But you weren't going to give up, a part of you wanted to prove you could do it.

Reaching the raft felt euphoric. Taking a deep breath you pushed him into the raft. Doing a quick check of his head and body, you noticed he was breathing oddly. You turned him on his side and tried to clear his airway. A little bit of water trickled out before you performed CPR.  Your saving grace came when he coughed and spluttered, placing him in the recovery position and hoping he would be okay on his own for a moment. You looked around for any more survivors. There was luggage floating around, and you picked up all you could from the water. 

Walking along the inflatable back into the plane, the water was not as high in first class. This was probably due to the hole in the plane in the economy. The right side being the only one of the inflatables that had inflated beside the plane. Keeping the plane precariously afloat balancing on two inflatables which had malfunctioned and inflated under the plane.

Moving quickly and wading through the icy water, you grabbed the emergency kits on the wall. You had passed by deceased passengers and tried not to look. It was eerie and unbelievable even though it had only just happened.

Bags littered the water and you guided them towards the exit and put them on the raft. You could save these people's possessions for their family, or there could be items inside that could be of use and save your life. 

You also noticed the flight attendant area and raided the cupboards as quickly as you could. You grabbed the medical kit, some slippers, a range of very thin blankets that were wet and even some snacks carrying everything back to the floatation rafts. As an afterthought you braved a second trip back into the plane to grab your and the other man’s overhead luggage as you knew he would likely appreciate it.

Finding a bunch of cell phones floating around the cabin. You grabbed them all hoping one would be waterproof. You found a few that were still turned on, but only one seemed to have some sort of signal. The plane creaked as you started making the emergency call. 

“Come on” you begged the phone to connect. The whole plane creaked again and tilted; it wouldn’t last long. You had desperately searched for survivors but there was no one obviously alive. You tried your best to check their vitals, but time was running out. Hopefully, you wouldn’t be cursed for pronouncing everyone dead.

"Hello, this is an emergency service hotline?" A voice cut through the silence, you looked at the phone about to cry in relief "fire, ambulance or police"

"Hello, we were in a plane crash, my name is y/n, we were on a flight from Los Angeles to Seoul"

"What is your location?" the woman said, confused by your description.

"The ocean" you hissed "we are on a life raft"

"How many people are with you, what are their names?"

"Just one. I don't know his name. He is asian. Um really thin, um, has dark hair and—”

"You seem to be breaking up" the emergency operator said with the voice cutting out. You looked down at the phone in your hand and sighed. Of course, if everything was going wrong, a phone in the middle of the ocean apparently won’t save you. You thought to yourself, ‘it is 2021 so why isn’t service available everywhere?’ Pocketing the phone you began making your way out the plane.

You headed back to the inflatable and made the decision to cut the plane free. Scared that it would bring the raft down with it. Grabbing more luggage from the water, you thought it best not to watch the plane sink. It would only make you feel worse.

The time went by slowly. It took hours for the plane to disappear. Even though you had promised yourself not to look, you had. Taking glances as the plane slowly sank and you drifted further away. 

The moment the plane was no longer in sight, you curled up and let the tears fall. The sun began setting and the heat turned into a bitter cold. Your wrist was still quite swollen, and you decided to wrap it as you drifted along. You had been so sure that there would be something or someone to see you drifting, and you would be saved. 

However one cold night became two, and then three, only breaking for the scorching heat of the day. 

You thanked yourself for watching all those ‘lost on an island’ movies and television shows; you had learned some things along the way. You also had your father to thank for always dragging you along to the volunteer emergency services programs, ones where you learned how to survive in a forest. At the time you thought it was super lame for your friends to go to nice hotels by the beach for their holidays and you were making some sort of mealworm dish while making stick shelters.

Going over the information you had in your head, you knew water was the priority. The instructor had said humans can go three weeks without food, three days without water, three hours without shelter and three minutes without air. 

The sun would dehydrate you quickly. You had made a small shelter with luggage and blankets to protect you from the sun. 

If you didn’t find land, you were going to have to make some sort of man-made evaporation device to create water. As it was, you were slowly getting the unconscious young man to drink little amounts of bottled water, for he too needed to stay hydrated. 

The man you were with had awoken the third day. He seemed a little freaked out about being alone at sea. You explained calmly, not wanting him to do anything drastic and he sat there processing things. 

You gave him a bottle of water and something to eat. The two of you continued drifting, not speaking a word to one another. You spent most of the time trying to craft something to float on the ocean and create clean drinking water. 

(This evaporation device floats on the ocean and mimics rain by the water droplets sticking to the plastic cover over the whole device when weighted in the middle it then drips back down into a bottle. I can find a reference picture if you need. [Here] [Here] [This one is like what I made in 7th grade camp])

But you couldn’t get the water to land in the bottle and the bottle to stay upright. He was no help, just laying in the shelter out of the sun. The raft was big enough for about one hundred and thirty people. And yet, the two of you sat close by and didn’t say a word.

You were covered in sweat and felt absolutely disgusting. It was time for you to get changed. What a stupid way to die, not from dehydration, or malnourishment, or even sun exposure, but from lack of hygiene. It was decided. 

“I am getting changed, don’t look,” you breathed, opening your carry-on bag.

“I don’t want look,” he muttered back in English and turned away. You quickly put on something that covered your shoulders and tried getting some rest. You didn't want to alarm him, but you both had consumed the last of the water and food rations.

It was late that night when you heard a different sound. The raft was moving a lot more. These were big waves and a part of you hoped it was not a tsunami or whale activity.

When the sound got louder, you were reminded of the beach when waves crashed on the sand. Looking up, you saw something big approaching. It was a body of land. Suddenly, your chances of survival greatly increased, now that you had a way to get out of the water. Nervous about putting your hands in the pitch black water, you looked at your companion peacefully sleeping and made the decision to paddle slowly. Anything to increase your chances of getting to safety. You eventually washed up on the beach, arms aching and stepped out to drag the raft onto the sand.

It was late and still dark, but you had to do something. Thinking that perhaps if you found someone, you would both be saved straight away. You waited on the raft until the sky lightened, and then you got to work collecting sticks and starting a small fire. You took the empty water bottles, hoping to find a clean water source or some fresh water that you could boil.

You walked to the highest point in sight, not seeing any signs of large predatory animals was a good sign. When you reached the top, you felt a sense of satisfaction as you had overcome the many trials and tribulations. You made it through a plane crash, survived on the water, and made it to land. 

Looking around, you saw something bone-chilling. This was an island and judging by the lack of people, houses or establishments, it was uninhabited. There was no civilization to be seen. You saw the tufts of smoke from your fire and tried not to cry. You were stuck here until someone could rescue you. 

Pushing the minor breakdown aside, you thought about water, it was important. Scanning the island, there seemed to be a small waterfall and tiny lagoon at the bottom. Since the rain, the waterfall was running pretty fiercely. You mapped out a path back to the beach which would detour past the waterfall.

By the time you reached the beach, your arms were exhausted with the weight of the now filled water bottles. He was awake and briskly brushing his reddened cheeks with his sleeves, turning his back to you. Sympathising with the man who probably thought you died, fell overboard or abandoned him.

You pulled out the metal pot from the plane and began boiling the water, in an attempt to kill any bacteria in it. The tide was going out. you knew you should be thinking about food as the next priority, but you wanted to sleep. Being primarily awake for a few days was taking its toll.

It took everything in you to get yourself to move and get to work. Taking large rocks, you carried them into the water until you were knee-deep. You were building a V- shaped wall, so when the tide came in, it brought with it fish and when the tide went out, they would be trapped. 

Pouring the now cooled water into the bottles, you started thinking about your plan. First, you thought about short-term needs, in case you were rescued soon, and then long-term needs, in the event you weren’t rescued for months or perhaps years. You paused, forcing yourself to think and accept the fact that there was a chance you would never be rescued.

The Asian man had gotten up and looked around hopefully. Handing him a now clean and sterile bottle of water, you frowned looking around with him. "There is no one here." He didn't say a word, staring at you while drinking slowly.

You huffed, trying to figure out how you two could survive on an island. He watched you fuss around trying to make a shelter out of sticks but it collapsed everytime. 

“Just no,” he muttered. You tried not to openly sneer at him. Grabbing the raft, you dragged it across the sand. As the raft was built for a large group, it seemed all you were doing was digging your feet into the sand. But little by little it was dragged up the beach thanks to the tide. It took some convincing but you had gotten help from the young man. The two of you madly struggling to lift the inflatable slide to a tilt against a tree. It was still inflated so you hoped you could use it for something else if needed.

Before the tide came in that evening, you ran out to the water. Your hopes were crushed when you found no fish and saw that the wall had broken. Carrying more large rocks into the water and making the V bigger and stronger, things weren't looking great, but you were trying to do your best. Cold from splashing around in the water, you went back to the shelter, but the fire had gone out by this point. 

Looking at the young man, you let out an exasperated sigh. Did he not care for his life or yours? Contemplating while gathering more wood, you realized that you had been doing all the work, while he was just lazing around. “We need more wood, come help,” you gestured for the young man to follow, but he sneered at the thought and leaned away from you.

“I just lay uh here and wait to…” he thought over his words, slowly forming an English sentence “die or be rescue,” he mumbled. You were too exhausted to argue. It could wait until tomorrow, and you would both freeze tonight. Maybe then he would understand the importance of working together towards a goal.

You felt absolutely disgusting. hearing the loud patter of rain, you walked down the length of the shelter. On one side was the raft, and on the other was the luggage, built into a wall. You took out some clean clothes and stepped into the rain. Peeling off your seawater and sweat drenched clothes, you stood in the dark and tried washing your body with a tiny travel soap you had found in a bag. 

You scrubbed your body of sweat and turned back to the shelter. Grabbing your towel, and wrapping it around your body, you stepped inside. He was laying on the makeshift bed you had prepared. He looked over, and when he saw you just in a towel, he rolled away. It was embarrassing, you who loved privacy and comfort were showering all exposed in the rain and getting changed in the same vicinity as a stranger. That night, he took the only dry blanket, so you laid there with wet hair and damp skin, shivering. 

You were thankful for the sun rising, and it took a few minutes for you to thaw enough to move, but when you did, you deemed it time for him to do some work. The two of you gathered sticks and leaves. He barely helped, and when he got back, he laid back down and fell asleep in the shelter.

Building a fire, with the wood, took some time as it had rained the night before. The leaves helped fuel the flames. The fire didn't have to be amazing, you just needed it for warmth. You also hoped some rescue teams might even see the faint smoke.

At the sound of your stomach calling for sustenance you got up and went to check the rock wall you made and found a fish swimming in the shallow water. You grinned, carrying it back making sure to stoke the fire. You were doing your absolute best with the emergency kit knife.

You must have looked pitiful, as your companion took over, filleting the fish with ease, and he even cooked it. The two of you had fish for breakfast and you felt satiated. You took some of the supplies and got ready to set out for food and fresh water. He was dressed and trying to follow you, so you let him carry some of the empty bottles.

Except he wasn't cut out for endurance, he got winded quickly. It reminded you of the time you passed out during a school marathon. Yet you made the best of the situation that you could, walking slowly until you came across some sort of fruit that the birds were eating.

You took a couple of pieces of rotten fruit and then carefully dug up the small plant and began carrying it back. He followed you back. You placed the plant down. Using your hands you tried to shift the dirt until you had a decent hole where you could plant the little fruit tree. Watering it with some of the water you had collected from the lagoon, internally wishing the plant would flourish. It was hard pouring the fresh water on the plant but you had to if you wanted food.

You mapped out an area and put sticks in the ground in a box-shape, in hopes of starting a garden of any edible plants found throughout the island.

You took the old fruit you collected off the ground, put it around the bottom of the tree, and gave a small hopeful sigh. “Hopefully it will break down in the soil and feed the plant. Our fate is in your hands little plant”

You spent another night sleeping in the makeshift shelter and had to decide on what to do, so you sat up and turned to the young man.

"Hey, are you awake?" He sat up, his eyes narrow, "what do we build? Shelter? or a garden for food?"

He blinked before choosing "Shelter?” you giggled at his confusion, not trying to be rude. He knew more English than you knew Korean and that was definitely a feat.

“A home”

“Home, food later" he shrugged

It rained heavier, bringing with it a sense of sadness. There was no one waiting for you, no one looking for you. The tears began falling and you tried to stifle the sounds. He was still and you hoped he didn’t hear the breakdown. You hoped he was sound asleep as this seemed to be his skill. You were sadly mistaken; he wasn’t asleep. He moved and draped a blanket over you. He only drifted off when you exhausted yourself from crying.

Waking up with your back pressed to his back, the two of you had shared a few airplane blankets. Your body was aching, from sleeping on the ground. It was time to build the shelter both of you had been discussing. You needed someplace safe from the elements and a place with some sort of makeshift bed. Sand felt so soft, but was uncomfortable to sleep on.

Standing in the morning breeze, you began thinking: “How does one even build a house?” If people can make houses with only the land, then so could you. You had no excuse.if it didn’t work, you could try again until you figured it out. You knew there should be some sort of foundation. You could build between two trees, or with a big pillar in the middle, or four walls like a traditional home. Whatever you were going to do, you needed the materials, namely wood, but it’s not like you could just rip a tree out of the ground with your bare hands. You needed tools. Unfortunately, this island didn’t have a hardware store. This wasn’t like minecraft; you couldn’t just create perfect tools from nothing. Or, could you?

You got to work trying to make some sort of mock Stone Age axe. It gave you blisters, but you had successfully chopped a single tree down. Getting the hang of chopping the trees with your primitive tool, you had four trees ready on the seventh day. You dug holes in the sand, but it wasn’t holding the trunks at all. They kept toppling over. He told you it wouldn’t work, and you only huffed in response. 

You would have to dig, until you found harder ground. This took another week, but you had four tree trunks in the ground in a modest square. You had started feeling dizzy while working, and your head felt clouded. It had been raining ever since you arrived, every night and lightly throughout the day, you didn’t think you had felt warm in a few days.

While making a wall frame out of trees, you started to feel dizzy again. You tied together the thin logs with multiple vines, and you hoped they would stay. The more you worked, the more your hands got torn up. 

You were tying the last of the frame, when you felt your body grow heavy. You were so tired. You thought you would die by the hands of the lazy man. With that, all other thoughts left you as the darkness crept in. 

The shelter was warm. There was a fire, and the blankets were wrapped around you, keeping you warm. Beside you was a bottle of water and a packet of painkillers. “Fever,” he sighed, “all work makes you uh… quick death?”

“Well, at least I am doing something. I have kept you alive, in the plane, in the water and now. I have done everything and what have you done other than act arrogant and lazy?” You said, “You haven’t even told me your name. We are stranded on an island. Maybe we will be rescued tomorrow, and it will be all in vain but what if it’s not tomorrow? What if it's months or a year from now?”

“What if never safe?” He argued, not looking at you.

“The point is, I don’t want to die in my twenties. I don’t want to die in general. I had dreams, to get married, have a family and be a loving wife. I was working a stupid office job, and I loved it. I won’t give up that dream. I will live with the hope that one day we will be rescued, and I will keep us alive goddamn it.”

“You don’t need to worry about me.” He gave a dry laugh, “I have no care. I was not… supposed be on the plane.”

“I need you alive. I can’t do this on my own. If-” You took a deep breath, “If you die, I might do something stupid. I can’t live an undetermined number of days on my own”

He went quiet. 

“Think about someone else for a change, it’s not all about you, Mister Asshole.”

“Yoongi,” he mumbled

“What?” You asked, too tired to be mad.

“My name is Yoongi.” He left the shelter, and you were left sobbing in the dark.

You woke up to Yoongi cooking fish on the fire; you were not expecting it. He hadn’t really done anything to help you. He mostly sat around, but the two of you ate together before you got to work. It was after a few hours you noticed Yoongi was gone again. It disheartened you that he was off doing whatever again, while you were working. You were completely exasperated by the young man, he maddened you, always on your mind. He was hot and mysterious and you hate that you couldn’t stop thinking about him because he acted nice once.

You began opening the suitcases hoping you wouldn’t offend anyone by going through personal belongings of the deceased. Clothes in all different sizes mens and womens, all different styles and one suitcase broke you, filled with tiny onesies and cloth diapers, dummies and ointments and medicines for a tiny baby. A pretty purple rattle with a cute butterfly on the handle.

You slammed the suitcase shut and pushed it across the sand to look at another day but for now you needed to step aside, the wound was too fresh. These were real people who died and yet why did you two survive, the most unlikely pairing with the worst odds and yet you survived when countless innocent lives were lost. It wasn’t fair.

A few days had passed, and you were trying to create something sturdy enough to withstand wind and rain with a roof and walls. You had plenty of resources, but you had to pick the right ones that would last. 

You thought about it and decided to use the raft to line the inside of the house in the tarp-like material. It was super long, so you could do the roof and the four walls and still have the whole underside left over. You would weave leaves and sticks together to make them sturdier and layer them on the outside. 

Putting your plan to action seemed easy yet tedious. You collected long palm leaves, removed the spines, and weaved the leaves tightly together, and laid them on the floor. The more you weaved, the faster you got. Painstakingly working every day, you rejoiced when all four walls, roof, and floor were finished and stable.

While you were doing all this, Yoongi was nowhere to be seen. He returned at night, as he always did. He looked unbothered by all the work you had accomplished that day. You finished up, and the two of you ate and went to bed, which was just a collection of woven leaf mats covered in some of the leftover tarp from the raft.

You had moved the items from the shelter into the new house area. The two of you sat on the remaining raft fabric. “I made a bed out of leaf mats and covered it in the leftover material.” 

Yoongi seemed impressed looking around, “잘 했어.”

“Jal haess-eo?” you repeated the sounds “What does that mean?”

“Uh… good work” He took your hands and pulled out a small succulent leave from his pocket snapping it and squeezing out the liquid inside. Applying it to the cuts and scratches on your hands gently. You noticed his hands were rough too, for he had cuts and blisters littering the his palms as well. 

“Where did you find aloe vera?” you asked curiously. What had he been doing?

“Near the…” he made an action with his hand “폭포”

“The what?” You laughed, and he cracked a slight smile.

“Water shaaaa!” he made the sound and gesture of water falling. You laughed hysterically. He was so cute, when you got to know him.

“Waterfall?” you prompted, checking that was what he had meant.

“Ah waterfall!” he nodded, “Near the waterfall”

“What did you call it?” you said. You were genuinely interested. He had been trying his best to communicate with you in your language, so maybe you could learn some of his to ease the burden “Pog-o”

“폭포” he corrected. 

“Pogpo” You smiled at him. he seemed a little happy that you were giving his language a try. “How do you say good night?”

“안녕히 주무세요” he said and you blinked shocked, so he grinned,speaking slower in syllables “Ann-yeong-hi ju-mu-se-yo.”

“Annyeonghi,” you repeated. He seemed eager to teach you more, so you stayed up as long as you could, learning Korean phrases until you both fell asleep.

[Part 2/2] coming soon...

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[bloededhoine]

world building cause twn doesn't part 8: nonhumans

this is easily the geekiest part of the series. and it's a Very geeky series. because sapkowski's worldbuilding is waaay more extensive than i have the time, ability, or desire to convey, i'm sticking with races both sentient and important

colour code cause i fucking love colour codes - already happened/introduced, probably s2, important background info, stuff that might be in the prequel, extras

series masterpost

dopplers

dopplers, also known as vexlings, shifters, mimics, doubles, imitators, or pavrats, are a nonhuman race that can take on the appearance of nearly anyone they encounter

before mass migrations of humans, dopplers primarily inhabited the forests and plateaus around the city of novigrad, where they would transform into wolves and pack animals to hunt

their abilities are pretty impressive, dopplers can not only mimic appearance but also voice, personality, skills, behaviours, and knowledge. dopplers can even turn parts of their bodies into pieces of clothing or other objects

however, there are some limitations

dopplers can't transform into someone/thing with dramatically more mass than they have, are burned by silver, and can't drop anything they created (if they did it would kind of turn into a fleshy goop)

we've already met a doppler in twn, this sexy sexy man

BUT

it is important to note that this doppler is a huge deviation from sapkowski's lore. dopplers are pretty much always exceptionally kind and gentle. a lot of times they use their abilities to appear threatening (big teeth, sharp claws etc) because they really don't want to hurt anyone.

when dopplers aren't mimicking another form, they aren't exactly pretty. they're bald, short, have beady yellow eyes, and kinda look like they're made from soft clay

here's the hexer doppler

the most notable doppler is dudu biberveldt, who i mentioned as the halfling dainty biberveldt's fake cousin. dudu's actual name is tellico lunngrevink letorte, but dainty decided to help dudu live in novigrad by adopting him as his fake cousin.

dragons

dragons are fucking awesome. you know it, i know it, and zerrikanians know it. witcher dragons are especially awesome

they are the only being, other than cats, that can naturally harness and absorb the force of chaos

there are multiple subtypes, but most dragons fall into one of four: black dragons, green dragons, red dragons, and white dragons.

black dragons are the largest, and primarily live in swamps and wetlands where they bathe in mud. they have extremely hard scales and don't breathe fire, but an acid that causes burns similar to those from mustard gas.

green dragons (right there) are the most prominent yet smallest species of dragon, mainly living in forested areas and breathe highly flammable chlorine gas.

red dragons mainly live in hills and mountain caves and can breathe fire hot enough to melt metal

white dragons are one of the rarest species and live in the far north, and can breathe frost

however, if you watched the witcher netflix as i assume you did, you may remember golden dragons. these dragons are so rare and exceptional that they are not usually included with other species. they breathe steam and fire and can shapeshift into any living being

all dragons communicate through telepathy, although golden dragons can speak when they are in the form of a species that can speak

humans are pretty divided on the topic of dragons, with zerrikanians worshiping them and nordlings hating them.

because they are incredibly intelligent and emotional, witchers (generally) refuse to hunt them

borkh three jackdaws, also known as villentrenmerth, is the only golden dragon we know. there he is right there.

ASSASSINS OF KINGS SPOILERS NEXT TWO BULLET POINTS

the other dragon from twn was a green dragon named myrgtabrakke, borkh's mate. their daughter is named saesenthessis, also known as saskia the dragonslayer (an alias she took to explain her extensive knowledge of dragons) and the virgin of aedirn

because saskia is part golden dragon, she can shapeshift, although is much more limited than her father. she can basically only be a human looking woman with blonde hair or a huge dragon.

cut because this part is getting REALLY long

godlings

ah godlings. i love them so much. they're adorable and precious. they usually look somewhat like a human child, but with blue skin and large amber or green eyes. they don't wear much clothes, their focus is in accessories like jewelry, flowers, or tattoos

that's johnny, a holding in wild hunt.

godlings are incredibly rare, and are easily confused with young goblins. they primarily live in swamps near drowners, but aren't afraid of them.

they're quite mischievous but kind hearted, many have happy go lucky personalities and love just having fun. i adore godlings. i've said it once and i'll say it again.

higher vampires

definitely the most important group on this list, higher vampires are incredibly powerful and intelligent. they can shapeshift within certain limits, generally either looking like a human or a large terrifying bat. they also have some telepathic abilities - they can basically make you fall asleep and forget stuff

scary wooo

higher vampires do not need to drink blood to survive. some don't drink blood at all. when they do, it's like a human drinking alcohol. on full moons, groups of higher vampires go out partying and get white girl wasted

although all higher vampires have the same basic abilities, each individual has one skill they are exceptional in.

most find humans harmless but annoying, like mosquitos. they don't really like interacting with humans, which works out pretty well as higher vampires can blend in very well, even a witcher's medallion can't detect one

higher vampires also have three distinct cultures, the tdet in the far east, the ammurun across the great sea, and the gharasham in the northern realms

they are really really hard (or impossible, depending on canon) to kill. based on the books, you basically need to disintegrate them. based on the games, only higher vampires can kill other higher vampires, but humans can get close

we only meet one in the books, emiel regis rohellec terzieff-godefroy. he goes by regis for short. regis was an "alcoholic" in his youth, and has since abstained from blood or any other substance. he's incredibly old, by the end of twn season 1 he'd be 425 years old. as for regis' "special ability", he's just kind. he's an incredibly gentle and loving person. that's it. i love him.

merpeople

probably one you're already familiar with! merpeople are intelligent humanoids that inhabit the great sea. mermaids are notably gorgeous, having green hair and tails, and their scales are prized alchemy ingredients

sapkowski's mermaids can breathe above water, but the sun burns their skin so they don't stay at the surface for very long.

merpeople are incredibly powerful, they can summon krakens and the sea-dragon like race of vodyanoy respect their authority

they use their own language that's quite similar to hen llinge, but more lyrical sounding.

nymphs

nymphs are a humanoid race primarily based around nature. they have 5 subspecies, dryads (including hamadryads), leimoniad, naiad, nereid, and oread.

dryads, called eerie wives by humans and aen woedbeanna by elves, are the most prevalent, primarily living in the brokilon forest. some have human skin with olive undertones, but others are green. they usually have dark brown or green hair which is usually worn in dreadlocks (breaking my promise of not being overtly and annoyingly political in this series yet again - the dryads, especially in the netflix adaptation, are classic magical n*gress stereotypes. but more on that later.)

this is a lore-accurate one that i LOVE

dryads have incredibly strong connections with nature and magic, although it is really rare for a dryad to be a source. dryads are able to draw energy from trees, but rarely do because they don't want to hurt the trees. support dryads and take the bus.

all dryads are women. all of them. they make babies by basically luring men into the forest and doing the adult hokey pokey. also why dryads aren't really a fan of witchers, who don't make the baby butter (i am so sorry)

however, dryads can also turn a girl of another race into one of their own through the use of magic. the water of brokilon has some mutating quality that makes young girls forget their human past and physically turn into dryads, although it is less effective as the girls are older. the dryads tried to do this to ciri, but given that she's a source, nothing happened. generally, this process is done to girls who wander into brokilon, but some dryads will abduct peasants from outside the forest if they need more dryads.

here's twn dryads... yikes

this is where i think the whole racism thing becomes a bit too obvious. "uncivilized" women who live in the forest and have dreadlocks and abduct young girls from "civilized" areas?? in twn they leaned even further into this, having one of the two black women they cast be a dryad and replacing the usual bows and arrows with spears, a less sophisticated weapon. again, this series is about the lore, not the political implications of it, but it is important to keep in mind

dryads are excellent at archery, shooting anyone who comes within 80 metres of the forest. through their connection with nature, they have highly advanced medicine and use glowing fungi as a source of light.

hamadryads are a specific type of dryad that is incredibly connected with her tree. because of this connection they have exceptionally strong magical and healing capabilities, but will also go insane and die if their tree dies.

like merpeople, dryads use a more melodic dialect of hen llinge

leimoniads are a type of nymph that lived exclusively in meadows, but are practically extinct due to wars with humans

naiads, also called rusalki, are nymphs that live in lakes and rivers, although a few live with the dryads in brokilon. naiads are very similar to dryads, although they tend to have very light skin with very dark hair, webbed hands, and can dry out on land

naiads rarely speak common, live in small groups, and have highly developed telepathic abilities

nereids are nymphs that inhabit the great sea, often living closely with merpeople. they usually have blueish skin with either blue or white hair and have some telepathic abilities, though not to the extent of naiads.

oreads are nymphs of the mountains, which, like leimoniads, are nearly extinct due to human conquests.

succubi/incubi

succubi (female) and incubi (male) are creatures which look like incredibly attractive humans but with horns and goat legs. they seduce humans, first in dreams and then physically, using their prey's energy to sustain themselves, often to the point of the human's exhaustion or death

our man eskel has a soft spot for them...

sylvans

sylvans, another race we already met, are exceptionally rare. like, practically extinct. they live mainly in the woodlands of the northern realms and have goat-like faces with yellow eyes, horns, cloven hooves, and tails

my man torque is quite possibly one of the last sylvans on the continent

they are distantly related to elves, and the two races tend to coexist quite well

generally quite mischievous and merry, highly enjoying pranks and parties. they can use simple spells and are mainly herbivores

sylvans live around 100 years and are highly sought after by dryads for their... ahem... reproductive capabilities

unicorns

yep, we got unicorns! i fucking love unicorns and still kinda think they're real. camels are real and those lumpy fuckers are way weirder than a horse with a spike on its head.

anyways

unicorns are highly advanced beings, they can travel between worlds and use telepathy. they don't really like the "less advanced" races, mostly staying around to observe them. they have distinct societies led by a council of elders and tend to avoid evil

these unicorns are badasses

unicorns strongly despise the use of the force but encourage the power of destiny. in the context of pavetta's betrothal feast, a unicorn would not be happy with pavetta's little source hurricane thing, but would encourage geralt to follow the law of surprise

in of the witcher, unicorns are very important because of their world-hopping capabilities. the aen elle, unfortunately, realized this and began enslaving unicorns to help them plunder other worlds. this turned into a massive conflict between the unicorns and elves.