#which means the events of forgotten land have already happened

[imelht]

Hi it’s the cringe anon again back with more questions

Since meta knight would be more powerful in the vamp au, how do you think he reacts to dedede getting possessed?

You are far from cringe, anon. I greatly appreciate any and all questions, no matter how trivial they may seem. (Which this one is far from it, I assure you.)

So. You are most certainly correct about Meta Knight being far more powerful than his usual canon self, in this AU, due to the addition of Dark and Blood Magic, as well as the usual vampiric powers, to his already capable arsenal of abilities.

Since this AU is not too far off of canon, (asides from Dreamland having a city-like setting, which, should you need some clarification, since it has a main role in the story, then feel free to ask…) …and there are still the occasional threats to Dreamland, that means that the usual behaviours of the threats are still the same. (As in, Dedede is still very likely to get possessed should a threat ever become present in the AU.) (Like Dark Matter or something of the like, for example.)

Now, Meta would most likely not have a positive reaction to Dedede’s possession, for two main reasons. One: In this AU, Meta Knight is assigned to be King Dedede’s personal knight and bodyguard, so he’d most likely beat himself up a bit should the king get possessed, because it’s his specific duty to keep him safe from any and all harm. Two: He also has feelings towards Dedede in this AU, as a sort of underlying subplot kind of thing, so, yeah.

Even if the second didn’t apply, Meta Knight would still feel negatively towards Dedede undergoing any sort of usual possession, and maybe even Kirby would even get in on the mix if there was a more powerful being behind it all.

So in short, he wouldn’t be very happy about it.

[bonefall]

again looking over the reworked history what the hell happened with Ripwater, I wanna know. What *was* that? How did Riverclan kill it?

Oooooh, quite a request! Ripwater, Queen of the Lake, one of the episodes of BB!Po3!

Ripwater is a Wels Catfish, the largest freshwater fish in Europe. The biggest specimen EVER caught was just landed last year, in 2023, 9.4 feet long. It wasn't weighed, but smaller fish than this one have broken 300 pounds.

And it's not a good thing that we're catching so many big ones.

Wels catfish are extremely invasive across most of Europe, introduced for anglers who want to land record-setting catches. They're massive, intelligent carnivores, sometimes called the "freshwater orca" because they will lunge out of the water to catch land prey. They DESTROY the population of anything big enough to fit in its terrible mouth, including fish, amphibians, and even turtles.

They get that big from a mix of constant food and hot temperature. It's a sign that they're devastating their surroundings, and that nothing has been able to kill them for the decades it takes to get so large.

So of course, some dunderhead put them in British rivers, where they've been spreading upwards ever since. Thankfully they thrive better where it's warmer, so they're not too massive of a threat to BB's modeled regions in Northwestern England, but they're fucking coming.

Ripwater's name isn't an exaggeration. That's how they hunt. They gape their jaw and beat their fins like dragons, creating eddies and currents that suck their hapless prey in. When RiverClan names her, it's because they see her ripping the water in half. I was thinking about her recently, and came up with some new stuff. I'll take a brief break from my drafts to serve up some fragments for you.

[A gray cat with blue eyes, Lakepaw, later BB!Lakeheart, swims in bluegreen water surrounded by lilypads. Below her is the massive shadow of Ripwater, a gigantic Wels Catfish. Its eyes flash in the depths.]

SMALL RECAP OF BB!PO3: (to set the stage)

It is now a breather arc, just dedicated to some worldbuilding!

I feel pretty strongly that Po3's strength is how AWESOME of a slice-of-life arc it could have been. To this end, I removed the Kin of your Kin prophecy from it, until it's revealed only at the very end just before Cruel Season.

That's so I can focus on The Three and their adventures around the lake, without this big prophecy looming over them and making the lower-stakes conflicts look small.

Instead, the various episodes of Po3 are related to problems that their new home presents, with just a teeny bit of Sol's magical influence to spice things up.

While Lionpaw learns about the "meaning of strength" and ultimately learns a terrible lesson he will extend to his kits, and Jaypaw finds his limits and learns to prevent others from defining them for him, Hollypaw is grappling with Fire Alone and how to reconcile her grandfather's legacy with her strict dedication to the Warrior Code.

And SO we find ourselves in one of the earliest episodes of BB!Po3; Ripwater the River Demon. This is like... episode 3 or 4, it's a REALLY early one.

I'm just shuffling it around with ANOTHER RiverClan-centric episode; the Shinewater Plague. The oilspill from TNP is now going to be bumped up to Po3 so it's more about establishing Mothwing and her apprentice Willowpaw, to contrast Leafpool and her apprentice Hollypaw, before Holly swaps to being a warrior. Jaypaw completes warrior training before becoming a Cleric apprentice.

So I don't want them to be TOO close together. Maybe put Ripwater in Book 2 and have RiverClan comment that they don't really want to ask for help because of the last big event, Mistystar hates feeling indebted to ThunderClan.

After all, it could basically replace the "flood" episode from Canon Po3, which is often forgotten about anyway. I'm already having ShadowClan construct dams instead of RiverClan anyway...

ANYWAY RIPWATER

I want to start this episode off with Sol/Harry, who is unnamed, messing around near water. He has a bit of a fish motif going on that I want to establish, and I need to get him to start messing with the Clans good and early.

(Specifically his motif is going back and forth between the koi, also an invasive and notably domesticated species, and the atlantic salmon which is famous for its changing life cycle.)

The Wels Catfish is an invasive species to England, slowly making its way up the island from the South. The fish who will become Ripwater, at this point, is already HUGE but not cat-swallowing huge. She's an 80-pounder.

Sol hits her with some godly magic, which allows her to grow at a rapid rate.

The sort of thing where it wouldn't be COMPLETELY implausible. He just... helped it along.

When we get to her first true on-screen appearance interacting with RiverClan, she is nearly 300 pounds of monstrosity with a length of about 8 feet

I'm unsure how, exactly, ThunderClan comes to know of this. But I DO know that I want Hollypaw to be snooping, and heavily encouraged by her mentor Brackenfur to do so. So, somehow, SOMETHING starts going wrong across the lake and ThunderClan catches wind of it.

Thinking about it, this should probably be her first big action after swapping out of Cleric apprenticeship.

One of the few things she's missing about Clerichood is the way she could be close to Willowpaw without needing to sneak around so much. It's easier to just pass it off as "friendship" and "Clerics need to be close." Leafpool and Mothwing are a similar way.

Possibly work in that Hollypaw's also already seeing Heatherpaw in the tunnels, contrast the two things...

At this point, Hollypaw has a crush on Willowpaw, which is requited, but... it's kinda fading.

She still loves her like a friend, but she's liking Heatherpaw a lot more. It doesn't mean she doesn't CARE for Willowpaw, of course, but

Willowpaw is still IN love, and it's slowly becoming unrequited, when it didn't used to be.

And from RiverClan's POV...

The first disappearance is so sudden they have no idea what's happened. I'm planning for it to be Robinpaw.

(I go back and forth on if it's Robinpaw or Dapplepaw, but I'm leaning towards Robinpaw again, because I like Dapplenose too much to have her get killed off here.)

She went out clamming in the lake with her sisters, Lakepaw and Otterpaw, there was a swirl in the water, and that was it. She was gone.

Just like that.

She never came back up. RiverClan searched for her, following the currents, checking the shoreline, everything. It was like she vanished.

Mistystar is suspicious and doing everything in her power to figure out what happened, but... let's face it. It's the word of two apprentices, who were swimming alone, who swear Robinpaw just went under.

Misty JUST got done with the Shinewater Plague and isn't trying to make RiverClan look like it can't keep track of its own young. The most likely situation is that Robinpaw was sucked down by an undertow that the three of them were too inexperienced to recognize.

So... she's pretty adamant about not sharing this information until Robinpaw's body is found. Jaws Style. "We cannot let the other Clans be alarmed by this, else they might meddle in our affairs..."

(and she's still maybe a little paranoid that some snoop in another Clan is going to find out that Leopardstar wasn't killed by a rogue, y'know.)

I don't want it to be TOO much of a bloodbath, so I'm capping Ripwater's body count at three and just aiming for two deaths total.

I'm also going for a coincidence RiverClan is going to interpret as a pattern; this happens a lot, specifically, when they're hunting Freshwater Pearl Mussels.

Ripwater doesn't like the river as much as she likes the lake, but it has nothing to do with their clamming. They're just going to interpret it as such.

Anyway.

The next one she goes after was lucky. By some stroke, she opens her jaw, and the victim is able to grab onto something before they're sucked in. (Maybe toss in something here were it was Holly who was able to help save them.)

Since the WHOLE Po3 Apprentice Generation is going to be getting more focus, there needs to be more input from the RiverClan apprentices. Lakepaw and Otterpaw obviously need time here, but I also NEED to involve Ripplepaw, to establish how he's going to be seen as one of the strongest in RiverClan by OotS.

EDIT FROM THE FUTURE AS I FIGURED STUFF OUT:

It was Ripplepaw, Otterpaw, and their two mentors on a raft who were attacked next. They were fishing for mussels in a shallower part of the lake.

Otterpaw was tethered to the raft with a flax lead, so it wouldn't float off. Or just tugging it in her mouth. Either way she had a line.

When Ripwater attacks her, she is swallowed on the line like a worm on a hook

And it starts pulling the WHOLE RAFT down, just a crummy bundle of sticks

One of the mentors started shouting to cut the line, else it would drag all of them under, but Ripplepaw dives right down to beat its ass without telling them he's not gonna cut it

Hollypaw just rushed right in, didn't think about it, forgetting she was supposed to be trying to sneak around

Taking control as the natural leader she is, she ordered them to shut up and start pulling the opposite way

Underwater, Ripplepaw braced himself against the fish's lips, grabs Otter's tether, and YANKS

Abovewater, the adult warriors are pulling together, Holly grabs the raft and pulls too

Once their paws touch the bottom of the shallows it's over, one last HEAVE-HO and POP!

Otterpaw is FREE

And when it's finally known that the apprentices weren't mistaken, there's a monster in the water, THAT'S when the debate really starts up. Mistystar does NOT want ThunderClan meddling, and she'll already be pissed off that Hollypaw (and any OTHERS who tagged along with her, I wouldn't put it past Honeypaw to wriggle her little yellow butt into a later draft, or Lionpaw for his massive strength) witnessed something that's not her business.

There's a moment from canon I desperately want to keep; where Squirrelflight comes to fetch her daughter.

(more reason to just say this is replacing The Flood Episode from canon lmao)

It's such an interesting moment, and so forgotten. In a nutshell, Squilf is both furious and concerned that her kit went missing and meddled in another Clan's affairs, but... understands the impulse.

Because it's something she would have done.

So when she scolds Hollypaw, there's this aching feeling that she's scolding a younger version of herself. Calling her arrogant and disloyal, that an apprentice's opinions mean less, and that she needs to listen to "older and wiser" warriors within her own Clan.

In BB, I want to do something big with this. Firestar is the figurehead of Fire Alone, who encouraged Hollypaw's behavior through his deputy, Brackenfur, who he set as her mentor for a reason.

But Squirrelflight is being abused. By Brambleclaw.

This is one of the lowest points in Squirrelflight's life, and she is walking a line between self-worth, the warrior code, and her personal beliefs, just like her daughter is.

SO, since I'm already using Brambleclaw's enabling of Ashfur's physical abuse as one of the contributing factors to Hollyleaf's descent, I ALSO want to show how he acts on other characters.

Brambleclaw, Clan Culture, the pressures of their strength-obsessed social system. So it's gotta be Squirrelflight that reminds her, or even plants the seed in her head;

"What you did isn't consistent with the Warrior Code."

Maybe even have Mistystar herself state this earlier, to be echoed by Squirrelflight, offering an alternate perspective to Hollypaw. Make her realize that ThunderClan's political leanings are not universal or even popular.

But when Hollypaw comes back to ThunderClan, whoever set her to be a snoop wants her to spill the beans. This is also a big WIP part, as Hollypaw struggles with if she's going to obey or not, and I still need to set all the political "players" in this moment.

I know for sure, though, that Firestar's IMMEDIATE desire is to meddle like it's an episode of Scooby-Doo. Though he's savvy enough to be smart about how he phrases it and what actions he takes, his ultimate goal is to put his little cheeto-dust paws all over this. And Hollypaw is starting to question how appropriate that actually is.

This is where it starts to really be a rip in Holly's mind. Clans aren't JUST big, blanket groups with united opinions, they're collections of individuals. Mistystar doesn't want meddling, but Willowpaw is in danger. Otterpaw and Lakepaw went all that time without being believed, after they watched their sister die, because they're lowly apprentices like her. Squirrelflight and Brambleclaw are angry and disappointed, while Firestar and Brackenfur are secretly lathering her in praise.

Now imagine me standing in front of a big board where I'm writing ??? because there's a missing chunk here.

I need to connect THIS part to what comes next, which is where ThunderClan DOES come in and help out. Here's the thought process going on in RiverClan;

Willowpaw comes in to do something important. She adores Hollypaw, knows her value as a Cleric, and knows that StarClan can sway Mistystar.

I want her to have a couple of pieces of a vision... BUT. She decides to interpret it in a way that's convenient, and add a few details.

It's not a tooootal lie lmao. It's just 75% true.

This is the true power of Clerics, when they realize it. No one can actually challenge them without just ignoring them or stripping them of power. They are accountable to StarClan alone.

A mentor simply doesn't say this out loud to their apprentice. It's a quiet secret. And Willowpaw just realized it.

and thinking about it... this should be the thing that finally breaks the budding romance Holly and Willow had. Holly is sickened by this, when Willow confesses how she convinced RiverClan to work with ThunderClan.

But, without even being a full Warrior, the apprentice leverages her power as Cleric of RiverClan, and 200 skill points of Improv Acting, to tell them these things;

"StarClan is so angry with us that they've sent a hog to the water! It's why they've sent a ThunderClan apprentice, we must work with them to eliminate the beast that lurks in our waters. With spears and plans, we must hunt it honorably!"

(Mistystar is defensive, but it's not known why) "We haven't disobeyed StarClan in any way. We'd already accepted their help once before, when sickness drove us to weakness, and it's only let them think they can disrespect our borders as they please. This can't be the holy will of our ancestors."

"It's-- We've been disrespecting this bountiful new land that they've so generously given us. That's what the pile of shells in my dream was. Think about it! The last attack was on the shore where we collect mussels. The second attack was on a cat latched to a raft, and it was only the tether that saved them. And the first..."

IVE GOT AN IDEA, Robin, Lake, and Otter WEREN'T clamming when they were attacked. She gestures over to Lake, knowing that if she doesn't back her up, the theory crumbles.

(Otter is in the Cleric's den, unconscious.)

Lake hesitates, not wanting to lie. Willow jumps back in,

"It's why Otterpaw was attacked," does those little jazz-hands to be like 'come in bitch work with me,' "And it's why Lakepaw has to be involved in killing it, to end what she started, and appease StarClan."

Lakepaw more like I LIKE-what-you-just-saidpaw, "It's true, we were so ashamed to admit it, Mistystar, this is all MY fault, I wanted my siblings to dig up mussels, PLEASE let me atone by stabbing the fish to death"

AND AFTER THAT IT'S NOODLIN' TIME

Mistystar, begrudgingly, accepts Firestar's help, or perhaps reaches out to him. Ripwater is a "Hog in the Lake," a beast too big for them to kill honorably on their own.

ThunderClan is the ONLY Clan that uses spears, and only for boar hunts. To protect themselves and to give their quarry a quicker death.

No other Clan touches weapons for dishonor reasons, as they're heavily associated with the demon Shredtail.

I should have Willowpaw explain her half-truth to Hollypaw here, and it's where Hollypaw just... so very suddenly can't look at Willowpaw the same way.

Jaypaw would definitely face an ableist moment from someone, but it's going to have to be one of those times where he accepts that there IS a very real limit to his ability here. Spears are range-weapons and his whiskers don't reach that far. He can't tell where he's stabbing, and the water is going to make it too hard to smell where Ripwater's dangerous mouth is. He can't be chosen for this hunt.

Meanwhile Lionpaw learns from Willowpelt how to make a spear and it is one of the most satisfying things he's ever done in his life, he's like "this is so awesome oh my god i love weapons"

just gently setting up that he's going to eventually become ThunderClan's head of hunting, and also that he's a lil violent

I feel like him and Lakepaw should hit it off a little because they both think the idea of stabbing a fish in the face is super cool, only for someone to growl at them that they shouldn't be enjoying themselves so much

Maybe Blackclaw, fuck that guy

(absolute tangent but BB!Lionblaze is kind of evolving into a little dork and I love that for him. Local himbo only capable of making friends or enemies, all Clanwide opinions on him are polarized, more at 11)

THE PLAN

So how DO they kill that thing? First of all, it's all about strategy.

Immediately they started making a couple of specialized spears. Most spears they make are exclusively for boar-hunting, so they have a distinctive "lug" that prevents a boar from impaling itself down the shaft to get you.

Someone in RiverClan explains that you don't want a fish having the chance to get off a claw. If Ripwater escapes, they might not find her again until she kills someone else

The solution is that these need to be custom-made, with special claw-shaped prongs, so they're chevron ^ shapes instead of tear-drop points. They stab in, and don't pull out.

So they need to make spears from scratch, which is an intensive process, and they don't have time to waste. RiverClan doesn't want to hunt by water that has a chance of having a freshwater orca spawn and drag you in; they'll starve

And there's only so many artisans in TC that can MAKE spears. Glue, twine, shafts, blades... these are all things that take hours of labor to create.

And MORE IMPORTANTLY, they realized from the Raft Rescue that a tether, attached to a floating object, can be very useful. Each weapon has rope tied through it and is tethered to a raft-- which is even MORE intensive, RiverClan had to repurpose several nets to create so many lines, and they only own three rafts, so the rest have driftwood.

So they only have time to create 3 special water-spears, and bring in 2 modified boar-spears.

Lionpaw is like visibly disappointed he can't have one lmao

The only apprentice given a spear is... Lakepaw. And it's a boar-spear

Because she's gonna be bait. They believe the litter is cursed for their "sin" and she'll be the next target.

But still, they chum up the water near the last sighting with blood and crowfood, like hog slop, and wait.

(Heavy WIP stuff here as we get to a play-by-play I haven't fully figured out yet)

Their plan is to get it on the shore as quickly as possible.

Four cats could pull Otterpaw from its mouth, so 5 spearcats and a dozen strong warriors could pull it onto the shore. Surely.

shorely.

It comes as expected, lunging at Lakepaw. She leaps back and tries to use her spear on it, but she is NOT properly trained with it, she stabs its face, but can't break the skull

RiverClan manages to toss a net at the beast, but it's NOT heavy enough

And they managed to get LAKEPAW with it, pressing her to the beast, her spear is dropped into the water

Someone shouts that it swims like an eel, able to just reverse course unlike a REAL fish which must turn

In the panic, warriors start mobbing it.

she thrashes, and splashes and the net is barely holding her back at all

She smashes a warrior with her tail, buffs another with her powerful head

She's stabbed in her side by a ThunderClan warrior (probably Sandstorm), and she turns on the raft they're standing on, breeching and SMASHING it to bits. Lionpaw and the rest of the cats on this raft get dunked

In the water, ThunderClan cats are useless, and RiverClan cats can't properly handle spears.

Someone from RiverClan, probably Blackclaw, tries to free Lakepaw but is scooped up in Ripwater's mouth.

He's screeching and yowling and trying to hold onto its upper jaw, regularly cut off as she dives under

When Willowpelt gets her spear in, she holds onto that damn stick with her LIFE, getting swung around and dunked in the water and then going back up into the air

Thornclaw, holding the other boar-spear, aims for its tail

But it's not enough; Even with several warriors of RiverClan, five spears, a net, and the weight of the two remaining rafts, Ripwater's managing to pull them towards the depths

She's too big to bite, too large to claw, and too strong to hold down

LIONPAW TIME

He grabs the spear that Lakepaw dropped

Ripplepaw seems to zoom right passed him, running away from the fish. He thinks he must be some kind of coward, the fight's NOT OVER YET!! WE NEED TO HELP LAKEPAW

(In a later draft I might have Lionpaw be on the smashed raft, and Ripplepaw brings the spear to him before turning and bolting back to shore. Either way he doesn't explain himself)

He paddles near one of the rafts, and is pulled up onto it

Firestar calls him a WONDERFUL BOY for bringing the spear

Lionpaw mumbles something enthusiastic around the stick in his mouth, wriggles his butt, and jumps back into the water

Grabbing the net sticking to Ripwater and using it like tree bark, he pulls himself on

Bites the spear by the lug like a handle

And stabs it in like a knife

But it's already starting to pull out, too shallow

Filled with anger and resolve, he bites the shaft, and PUSHES

Harder and harder and harder until there's a crackle, the twine breaks loose, and the lug snaps

The rest of the spear slips in as if Ripwater's made of butter

Figuring that's probably deep enough, he lets go of the net, breaching the surface, sputtering and hacking

He's about to dive again to go get Lakepaw, but to his surprise, she breaks the water next to him

and then he feels the fish bump his paws

His name is called from the shore, and there's Hollypaw and Ripplepaw waving. Ripplepaw TOOK HIS SPEAR'S ROPE. Like a GUY WHO THINKS.

Now there was a team of cats on the shore, all the spent warriors who got thrown off, pulling Ripwater to the shore.

And from the feeling of slimy fish under his paws, it seemed like her fight had been all but spent.

And more cats were swimming to shore now, with the ropes attached to the other spears.

Once on the shore, they're able to discover that, tragically, Blackclaw has died. Mistystar in particular looks deeply torn by this, as their relationship was notoriously toxic. But still, he had been the father of her children, and drowned trying to save a Clanmate. She jumps up onto the massive fish, giving a speech about sacrifice, how Blackclaw and Robinpaw would be honored, and that RiverClan has learned its valuable lesson.

Ripwater was symbolic; it's the greed they had unleashed upon the lake by over-exploiting one resource. From now on, they would be respectful of StarClan's bounty. She thanks ThunderClan for helping to fulfill a prophecy, and offers that their debt be repaid by splitting the meat of the hunt.

Hollypaw, internally: "Oh she's doing that on purpose. She knows ThunderClan hates fish and it would be rude to refuse."

Firestar: "well. how could we refuse."

Sandstorm, quietly, in the distance: "easily actually ew"

CLOSING STUFF

I kinda want some kind of "epilogue festival" where the two Clans legitimately celebrate with a somewhat somber meal sharing. Some of these episodes in Po3 will result in lasting traditions and holidays that are celebrated annually.

At that little "fish festival," it works for Holly to officially break it off with poor Willow, to leave this episode off on a bit of a sad note.

This was one of the first times Lionpaw's power becomes obvious, and it's the sort of thing that wasn't really noticed. I figure it would be good for Lakepaw to ask how that lug snapped, she could barely even get the spearhead in. Lionpaw just brags and says it must be because he's SUPER STRONG.

For some reason he's just making a ton of friends whenever I write these out, I think I'm going to lean into it. Lionpaw's got friends when he's a kid lmao, starts losing them over time as he gets more violent.

It's probably because I really need a comic relief in The Three's dynamic. Hollypaw is very dramatic, Jaypaw is dealing with legitimately stressful social issues, and Lionpaw is violent. Someone has to lighten the mood up a little and it's probably because he's The California Girl himself lmao

At this fish festival he also discovers fish isn't actually that bad. Everyone's being weird about this. It's not really that slimy. It's got a strong taste but that's kinda nice, actually?

Could use some berries but like... "damn why don't we do this more often. this would go great with blackberries."

Ripplepaw: "You think so? I can taste sweetness, can I try to make it at home and tell you how it works out at the next Gathering?"

Lionpaw: "It's not hard, you just mash the berries and stew them in a little water before pouring it over your meat. I learned it from Willowpelt, she's got a mad sweet tooth."

Lakepaw: "No offense Lionpaw, but I always thought you were a total lunkhead. I never thought you'd like, cook?"

Lionpaw: "I mean not really, I'm an awful cook, I can just make simple stuff. Willowpelt's just nice enough to be patient with me, my mentor Ashfur says if I can learn something anyone can, haha."

Just a nice little moment for him.

Blackclaw is being mourned in the mortal plane, but secretly, getting a SCATHING trial up in StarClan. His death was heroic, but his ENTIRE LIFE was treacherous.

From teaching Hawkfrost to follow in his father's pawsteps, to joining him in WindClan's Civil War, and his constant arguing and undermining of Mistyfoot back when she was just a deputy trying to do the right thing.

He goes on trial for a bunch of things he did in TigerClan, too, facing his victims who took his misdeeds to their graves. He's not the only cat in RiverClan who is getting a review like this.

Leopardstar is already in the Dark Forest, and soon, Blackclaw's sent there too.

I decided to kill off Blackclaw here so he could have a VERY cool Land Mar;

(context: all Dark Forest demons now get a cool little evil playset area just for them, where they spawn into after they're thrown out of StarClan. These are called Land Mars)

It's still unnamed, but it's basically an even BIGGER Ripwater. It goes above and below the river and lakes of the Dark Forest, popping up in any body of water big enough to hold her.

[mrsmaxwelllord]

Summer Storm — Chapter II

Pairing: Harwin Strong x Martell Lady!Reader

Summary: The curse ignites a fire in Harrenhal.

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: Arranged Marriage. Mediumship. Fire. Burn Injury. Medical Inaccuracies. Annoyng man and (A LOT OF) gossip.

A/N: Enjoy!

AO3.

Harwin didn’t tell you half of the history, but the conversation you had after agreeing to a partnership of sorts — as if you were not married already — was full of meaning. You didn't expect him to blindly throw everything at you, yet it was strange to receive so little information about the events that doomed your marriage.

Nevertheless, you got a better understanding of him and his reasons. 

You heard what he confided in you with grace and patience you did not know you had. When he finished, you gave him your honest opinion: if he truly wanted to leave the past behind and protect the princes, he could never go back to the Red Keep or contact them again. It was harsh and very painful, you knew, but it was the truth and he knew it too. He promised he’d not do anything to compromise you or the House, not willingly, but you didn’t trust him just enough to believe him in this.

When this matter was settled, he asked about you again and insisted he wanted an honest answer this time. You refused. It was late and you were tired, exhausted really. But promised him you'd have all the time in the world to talk in the future. 

To keep the farce, he even made a small cut in his hand to stain the bed sheet. You watched the blood drain from him with a strange satisfaction, it was as if you were sealing the pact with blood. 

He guided you to your own chamber after wrapping you in one of his coats.  Once alone, you allow yourself to reflect on the events that lead you to this new life. You knew of the marriage a month before it happened, being the middle child of House Martell you were expected to have a good marriage, but not a great one - by marrying Harwin you had accomplished just enough success to be forgotten from your father's mind, he did his job to you and now was free to go on with his life. Your mother died years ago and was of no consequence. Your brothers and sisters were never really close, although they promised to write letters and keep contact — which you weren’t entirely sure would happen.

 You had come to Harrenghall with a sworn knight to protect and look after you, but he was a stranger, and all friends you had made so far are in Dorne worried about their own future. Long ago, when you weren't of age yet, you had a truly loyal friend, one you could no longer talk to but who had teached all you could possibly need in life. All that was behind now. You were to learn how to live in this strange land far away from everything you once knew.

Harwin wasn’t what you expected of him, he proved to be honest and fair — as far as you could tell — and, although his words burned deeply, you knew this was twice better than most husbands in Westero. Before leaving Dorne, you were worried he'd be violent and unfair, mistreated or humiliate you. A man as strong as he was rumored to be would have no difficulty to do so and, with his prestige and high place in society, no one would bat an eye to your suffering.

 You were ready to make herself unbothered by any of his rules, you would pray in the Sept for a tranquil life and not get into his way. Yet... hidden in your belongings, you had the most curious herb, one that could be turned into a tea. You wouldn’t hesitate to give it to him if he proved himself to be beyond endurance. 

However, this new routine seemed… simple. Easy to follow. 

He told you he wished to have a peaceful life too, that he would listen to you and all decisions would be made together, as future Lady and Lord of Harrenhal.

You didn’t fully trust him just yet, but you could try it. You shall do it. Your past costumes could be tamed and subdued. 

 You could be the perfect Lady Strong.

...

Not long after falling asleep, a voice calling your name woke you.

It was a feminine voice, but deep as a man’s who smoked his whole life, commanding and assertive like the Maester you had as a child, and it called for you. You could feel the vexation in its tone, but most of all its urgency, a terrible urgency that made you sit up quickly and worried. You blinked your eyes to get used to the eerie light that came from the woman calling you.

 The corpulent woman was leaning over you, the candle mere centimeters away from your face, making it impossible to clearly see her own face under the thick white veil she wore, she was head to toe covered with clothes in various shades of white. You didn’t recognize her from the early party nor was she dressed as a maid, yet she commanded you to follow her. Her voice alone obliged you to do so.

 You followed her to the wall beside the biggest window in the chamber and after pressing a very peculiar brick, the wall moved aside displaying a narrow hallway and a stone stair leading down. She led you through the hallway without difficulty, even though you had to follow sideways to accompany her rhythm. After a short while, the stone walls started to heat up and get warmer and warmer; you were wearing only your chemise and your forearms burned when touching the stones, yet you followed her silently, drowsy.

 She made a stop at the very end of the hallway, where there was no window and no light except for the candle she held. She pushed what looked a lot like a mirror and it opened like a door to a room almost entirely consumed by flames. The lady walked through the flames to a door at the opposite wall and turned around, not muttering a single word, looking at you as if waiting for you to go to her. You woke from your dreamlike state then, realizing it was not one of your dreams, but the woman stayed there.

 You knew what she wanted. You had no choice but to do it.

 You made your way through the fire, going around the bed in the center of the room, avoiding the curtains and tapestry burning. When you finally got to her, you saw the body laid by her feet, broken pieces of a wooden pillar covering its back, all burning low — a terrible sense of dread came to you. It was Ser Harwin Strong, your husband. Unconscious. You couldn’t even tell if he was dead or alive. 

 “Save him” the voice told you. “He still lives. I will guide your hand.”

 There was no time to question the White Lady, so you kneeled beside Harwin and pushed the log away from his body, the Lady’s hand covering yours every time you reached the burning pieces. In no time he was free and you found a weak pulse in his neck, but upon the momentary relief came more distress: the simple linen shirt he had on was burnt and so was most of his back.

 You got a hold of both of his arms and pulled him, still belly down, back to the door on the wall and down the hallway. It was harder to go through the narrow walls with the additional weight, but the Lady followed you back to your chamber and when you were about to enter the room she told you to keep going to the other end of the hallway. You didn’t question her.

 After a few meters you passed another mirror-looking-door but upon looking at the room inside you saw only more flames, it was in a worse state than Harwin’s chambers but you could see a body laid in the burning bed.

 “He is already gone” the voice whispered for the first time, you had half a mind to question her then. You saved Harwin, why not try to save… “There is not much time left. Get to the end of this corridor and ask for help. You’ll not survive much more smoke.”

 As if in a cue, just then you realize how dark the hallway was where the candlelight couldn’t reach. Only it was not simply the dark of night; from ceiling to floor the hallway was enveloped in black smoke. You finally felt suffocated and trapped, the wall still burned your arms and Ser Harwin was almost unbearably heavy. 

 The Lady’s hand touched yours again.

 “Stay strong just a little bit longer, dove. Then you may rest.”

 You kept on the uneven pace until you got to the end of the hallway, where there was another door. The Lady opened it to a room without the flames, but with no less smoke, the man in the bed arose from his sleep with the cracking of hinges and started coughing. 

 “Help us!” you cried and he looked your way.

 “Who is there?” he couldn’t see you through the dark smoke that surrounded the room. 

 “It is me: Lady Strong” you answered him, all strength from you body leaving you, you fell to your knees. “And my Lord Husband, Ser Harwin.”

 You heard the swaying and rustling of the bed covers, then fell on the floor beside the unconscious body of Harwin. You felt the touch of the man that came to help you, he reached you first but upon seeing the state of Harwin left you to your own devices, it did not matter because now you could only focus on the face hovering the ceiling. You could finally see her face properly: a dark, scarred thing. Her eye sockets empty and dark, her mouth open in a silent scream. Yet her voice remained the same as before.

 “Sleep now, dove. The morrow shall come but for you only darkness the day will bring.”

 You fell unconscious then, the smoke surrounding you. 

...

Your senses only returned to you by the twilight of the next day, when all the fire was already gone and the dead piled in the courtyard. You were in a ward you haven't been before, a large room full of mattresses — all of them occupied with injured people.

 You wake up to a killing headache, feeling dizzy and disoriented. It is confusing to wake to crying and, for a second, you believe it was one of your nightmares again. However, the crying turned to screaming and you realised there was actually something wrong.

 Harwin, laid in the bed beside yours, woke not much earlier with the Maesters changing the bandage of his wounds. It was time to take off the remains of the shirt burned into his skin, otherwise it would infect and a fever would begin. It was a painful process, perhaps as hurtful as the burning itself — even the highest doses of Milk of Poppy had little effect on this case. However, if neglected, that would surely kill him shortly. Infection had a mysterious way of working.

 It was torturous to watch the process, definitely not for the weak of mind: the screaming was always soul cutting. It didn't get easier with time, by the end of it the patient was already begging for a knife in the neck.

 You had the misfortune to wake up in the beginning of Harwin’s treatment. He was gripping the mattress tightly, his face buried in the bed, there were five men holding him down, two Maesters working to finish it quicker. He was the one screaming, you realised, terrified.

 You had no real concept of Riverland’s medical practice, it being so brutal and different from Dorne. Before you could soothe yourself and think through it, you were already standing, going to the man closest to you and pushing him away.

 “What is the meaning of this?” you yelled. “Get away from him! He is hurting. Do you not see?”

 Your advances worked and the man let go of Harwin's arm, but only momentarily. He had tripped over his own feet when you pushed him, your sudden strength took him by surprise and he fell before he could even turn around. Yet, the men that weren't holding Harwin went to you promptly and restrained you.

 One of the Maesters, the one closer to you, complained about your behaviour:

 “I should be the one asking ‘what is the meaning of this’, Lady Strong” he had a stern expression. “This is not the moment for savagery. Stop at once.”

“It is you who should stop. He screams in pain, do you not hear it?” you question, struggling to escape from the guard’s strong hold. “Is this how you treat your people here in the Riverlands? No better than a cruel butcher?”

For the first time ever, you heard the sound of your husband laugh. It was low, weak, and between sharp tears,  but it was undoubtedly a laugh and it stopped you. His face turned to you.

“Aye, what a devoted dove I got myself. So fierce in her advances to protect her husband. We will get along just fine if you continue to prove yourself so courageous, Wife” he said with a rough tone, then looked at the man standing beside his bed. “If I didn't believe the stories you told about her before, I believe them now. Let go of her.”

“What is the meaning of this?” you asked out of breath, not so sure anymore. The distress had worn out and a sudden sickness made itself known then: the world seemed to turn around you, your head throbbed with pain, and you felt in the verse of fainting. You tried to hold your ground, but ended up falling to the bed.

“My Lady!” the maester called, going to you. “You stood too quickly! You are still recovering from all that smoke you breathed.”

“I’m fine,” you whispered. “Explain what has happened.”

They runned out of words to tell you then. The room turned somber as the Maester helped you to sit up. No one dared to answer or look at you, as if muttering any word would bring the fire back in the room. 

It was Harwin who spoke first.

“There was a fire, as you may remember” was all he said.

You wanted to question him further, but the mourning expression on each one of their faces told you enough. Instead, you returned to a more pressing matter. 

“Aye. That does not explain the butchery on your back.”

“I am no butcher!” the maester exclaimed. “This is the only treatment for burns, m’lady. We shall clean the wound before applying the ointment ”

“Must it be so….” you looked for words, but each one you thought of seemed to be insulting to your lord husband.

“Worry not, Lady Wife” Harwin told you, laying his head back on the mattress. “This shall end soon enough. Then we'll have a much needed conversation.”

…

You stayed by Harwin's side, with his head carefully laid on your lap, while the Maesters worked on his back. You tried to comfort him and take his mind off the pain, massaging his hair or just holding his hand at times, but it was all futile, the screaming didn't stop until the job was done. When the Maesters set the last utensil down, it was suggested that he drank Milk of the Poppy, to cease the pain. 

It would certainly help with the pain but also make him groggy and just a tad delirious, considering the amount that was offered. So the conversation was postponed to another time, to when he comes to his senses. 

You took it in your own hands to better understand what had happened the night before and asked about it to the Maesters. They were, however, of no help.

“Worry not, Lady” was said, no one truly bothering to listen to you. “Once Lord Strong awakens he will let you know of the damage. For now, you should try to rest.”

You looked for your swoon knight next, to see if he was still alive, and were pleased to find that he, along all the maids from Dorne, survived the fire without trouble. They readily told you all they knew.

The Knight, Ser Allyrion, had a good idea of the damage, he helped the men control the fire when the worst of it burned the Tower, he also helped bring Lyonel's body down from the main chambers. He told you it began suddenly and spread fast, that it would've been much worse had the Maester not alerted the guards about the fire.

He asked you how you managed to escape your chambers and also get to Harwin's, he tried to get to you once he learnt of the fire but to no avail. The lock was broken and the door was too dense to break in, he didn't believe you would make it and was about to go get help when the castle's knights appeared to break the doors. They explained you were safe downstairs and were there only to get to Lyonel's chambers, to which he helped with.

Ser Allyrion told you that his room was also locked, and Lyonel's body was laying on the bed when they finally got to him. So was Harwin's and the Maester’s. Allyrion told you it was most likely that you and Harwin wouldn't survive if you stayed in the room for even a bit longer; if not the fire, the smoke would have suffocated you. He questioned how could you know of the secret passage, you haven't been in the castle long enough to know of all its hallways and rooms.

You didn't know what to tell him. You wanted to trust him and be honest, perhaps he could understand and explain it all to you. However, the truth may get you in more trouble than a lie and you really didn't want to let anyone know of your endeavors with the White Lady. It wouldn't be the first time you encountered the dead and since you had always managed to deal with it by yourself, you decided to keep it a secret.

So you made up a story. Told him that one of the castle’s maids had assured you that, should you need her in the night, you could send for her and she would come by the servants stairway. You made sure to keep the history simple and not focus on the said maid, Ser Allyrion, bless his heart,  seemed to believe you right away and didn't question you further. Instead, he congratulated you on how brave it was to get into a room on fire to save Lord Strong.

You left him to find your own maids then and found them either helping the Maesters with the wounded or in the kitchen preparing supper. You didn't want to keep them from aiding the staff, so you decided to approach only one of them. Hallie was the face you were most familiar with, she helped you dress when you arrived in Harrenghall and had an outgoing personality, talking to you cheerfully about the castle.

You asked her to accompany you into a walk around the castle to see the damage and she promptly followed you. Walking around the castle was a ruse to talk to her more freely than you could surrounded by the servants of the House, of course, but it didn't mean you couldn't assert the damage caused by the fire and the reason it began. Talk spread fast and there wasn't a better place to know rumor than the kitchen, people liked to talk while working and you knew Hallie would be of service.

However, first you would need to find a quiet place. She followed you around and commented idly on the whole situation: where she spent the night, what she was doing when the fire began and what she did to escape it. You listen to her carefully, leading her through the hallways and chambers. There wasn't sign of the fire anywhere in the lower part of the castle; the room where the party was held the night before was intact, as were most of the stairs leading to the Tower. The real damage began there, the furniture and tapestry were burnt in the ground, the walls dark with smoke, the doors broken or locked still.

The highest you rose, less people there was. The fire was gone by now, but its warm was still there.

Hallie stopped talking when she realised you weren't listening anymore and carefully linked her arm to yours.

“What are people talking about in the kitchen, Hallie?” you asked, deciding to go for a more direct approach.

“Well, my lady, they didn't talk so freely with me.”

“Why not?”

“Because I'm your maid.”

You were quick to understand her meaning. You were being blamed for the fire. But why?

“I see. They were afraid you would tell me what you heard.”

“Exactly, my lady. But that didn't stop them to gossip around when they thought I wasn't listening.”

In that moment you turned a corner and passed by two knights carrying a body, you couldn't even tell its gender, the fire burned most of their skin. It was chilling to think that could've been you. Hallie and you let them pass without muttering a word, each one of you doing a quiet prayer.

Only after they passed by you, Hallie resumed the conversation.

“They didn't talk directly to me, of course, however they did speak between themselves.”

“And what have you heard?”

“Well, at first they seemed sure it was Harrenhal's curse. It wouldn't be the first time the lord ruling died here by unnatural cause.”

“Yes, I’ve heard rumors in the past. I don’t see what could possibly happen to change their minds. Lyonel and Harwin’s death would bring me no benefit at all. My position here is safe. In no time I could've become Lady Strong of Harrenghall!”

“My Lady…” Hallie  said hesitantly. “You are Lady Strong of Harrenghall.”

You stopped right then, her words finally making the reality of the situation sink into you.

“When Lyonel died, the title of lord ruling passed to his heir — Ser Harwin” she explained. You still haven't moved, too shocked to really process her words. “That's the reason you're being blamed for, my lady. They believe you did it to become the lady of the house… sooner.”

After a pause, you found your voice again.

“That still doesn't make sense. Harwin almost died, had he gone too I'd have nothing.”

“But he didn't die, did he? That's the point. You saved him, but couldn't save Lord Lyonel in the room beside him. Forgive me, my lady, but that is too much of a coincidence that not only did you find the servant stairway in a room you've never been before but also found Harwin's chamber just in time to save him. The talk is that you hired us to do your wrongdoings, conspired to kill both Lyonel and Harwin and now plan to marry Larys.”

“Excuse me?”

“The last part is more complicated, I reckon” she smiled at you. “They were not interested in finding the reason why you planned to marry Larys' and still saved his older brother.”

“Hallie, that makes no sense at all. I don't understand…” you interrupt the walking at the end of a hallway, there's only a ceiling to floor window here and no way out but following back from where you came.

 “Frankly, my lady, it is gossip and there's no need for a complicated explanation. They talk because they don't have anything better to do and, of course, because someone needs to be responsible for the tragedy. They blamed you because it was easy, because...” she hesitated and you could tell she was considering if she should tell you something or not.

“Tell me.”

“Well. There may be a reason for you to conspire against Harwin, after all.”

You turned around and held her hands between yours, it was no time for hesitation. Not only yours but perhaps the lives of the girls and Ser Allyrion would be in danger if you don't properly deal with this situation. A lie is a dangerous thing, to have them believe you're the assassin of their lord is to put you in the gallows rope. You have to know every detail of the gossip.

“You need to tell me everything.”

“Forgive my frankness then, my lady” she looked back at the hallway to make sure no one was listening. “Is it just that everyone at the Court knows how close Ser Harwin and Princess Rhaenyra were. And there is resemblance between him and the…”

“Are all the uproar about this? Do they not know late Queen Aemma was an Arryn before marrying King Viserys? They are known for having…”

“As I said before, my lady. They don't look for a deep explanation. However, that's not all. Harwin has an explosive personality, it would be complicated to live with him. Larys is known for being more… malleable, it would be easier to rule Harrenhal.”

“Why are they so certain I want to rule Harrenhal?”

“Well, my lady, we are from Dorne. There is suspicion involved, they always distrust what they don't know.”

You took a deep breath then, holding on to the walls to not collapse. It was all too much to take in, you suddenly felt faint.

“My lady, are you not feeling well?” asked Hallie by your side, holding your arms carefully with the bandages. 

“I'm fine, Ally. Thank you. Let's just go back.”

“Did the Maesters not treat you, my lady?” 

“They were too busy, there were people in a much worse situation than I'm.”

“That doesn't mean you should be let aside. Let's go back to the kitchen, my lady, I'll help you there.”

[magicfootballstuff]

Strictly Unprofessional - part 8 (alexia putellas x reader)

Summary: You’ve just landed your dream job as a photographer at FC Barcelona Femení. The only problem? You hooked up with the captain five years ago and haven’t seen her since.

Part 8/9

Previous parts here.

———

You arrive early for your lunch with Alexia, hoping to settle your nerves and calm your racing heart before she arrives, but the plan backfires because she’s already here too.

“Hi,” you say awkwardly, unsure if you’re supposed to pretend that the last couple of days haven’t happened and greet her with a hug as you would have done before.

“Hi,” Alexia responds. 

No hug. Okay, that’s fine.

You take a seat opposite Alexia and immediately start perusing the lunch options, using the menu card almost as a physical barrier between you and Alexia.

It’s the exact opposite of your hangout at her apartment the other night. While that, with the privacy and intimacy of being in Alexia’s own home, allowed things to get too intense too fast, meeting in a public place like this makes it feel a little impersonal, like you’re about to discuss a business transaction and not the confusing mess of feelings you have for her.

“Thanks again for yesterday,” you say, anything to fill the uncomfortable silence. “My dad had the best time.”

“It was nothing,” Alexia shrugs it off. “It was nice to meet him. I’m glad he had fun.”

You fall into silence again. You barely slept last night, overthinking this conversation and all the possible directions it could go into, but now that you’re here in front of Alexia, all preparation about what you wanted to say to her flies out of the window. You’ve forgotten everything you wanted to say to her, your mind blank and your tongue heavy in your mouth.

You’re saved by the waiter, a welcome distraction that gives you a moment to compose yourself as he takes your food order.

“I’m sorry about the other night,” Alexia eventually says, when the waiter has left you both alone again. “About asking you if you wanted to kiss me. We’ve got history and I got carried away thinking there was still something between us.”

“You didn’t get carried away,” you tell her, thinking back to the other night and the obvious chemistry that fizzled in the air between you. “I feel it too. And you don’t need to apologise, I was the one who overstepped by suggesting I could photograph you in your home.”

“I enjoyed it,” Alexia admits. “Hanging out with you, eating dinner in front of the television, even the photoshoot. But spending time together outside of work brought up old feelings that I thought I’d done a pretty good job of squashing.”

“Here’s what I don’t understand,” you interject. “You didn’t recognise me, which is fine, we’ve talked about that. We both agreed that it was a one time thing and it’s in the past. But then your sister is telling me…”

“Don’t listen to anything that Alba says,” Alexia interrupts to warn you. “She likes to interfere.”

“She said you were hung up on me after Ibiza,” you explain to Alexia. “Her words, not mine.”

“I liked you,” Alexia admits. “A lot. I wasn’t looking for anything in Ibiza but you surprised me. If we’d met in Barcelona I like to think things could have been different.”

Alexia’s words take you by surprise. All this time, since you started your new job with the football club, you thought that Alexia was trying to put everything that happened in Ibiza behind you both. You thought that the feelings for Alexia that have been growing within you were completely one-sided - it was only two days ago in Alexia’s apartment that you even dared to imagine what might happen in the unlikely event that Alexia reciprocated.

“You mean you wanted more?” you ask, confused.

“I probably would’ve wanted to try,” Alexia answers with a nod.

“Then why didn’t you? We knew we were both going back to Barcelona. We’ve been living literally ten minutes from each other all these years.”

“You don’t remember, do you?” Alexia asks, her eyes filled with sadness.

“Remember what?”

“I did try. You’re the one who didn’t want more.”

———

five years ago

You wake up in a good mood.

Despite the combination of a little too much alcohol and not quite enough sleep, you feel relaxed. And as you drift further into consciousness, you realise that probably has something to do with the person next to you.

Alexia is sprawled on her stomach, the sheets pooled around her hips exposing the skin of her tattooed back. Her hair is splayed messily across the pillow, her mouth half open as she sleeps, and her arm is draped loosely across your bare stomach.

Oh. Yeah. That’s why you’re in a good mood.

Your phone is on the nightstand and you reach for it slowly, careful not to disturb Alexia. You have a few messages from your friends, some drunk ones from last night after you left with Alexia, and a couple this morning checking in. You send one back to let them know that you’re okay and that you’ll join them at the hotel later, then set your phone face down.

Alexia sleeps on.

As you lie there, you don’t really know what the rules are. You’ve been in a relationship for the last three years, you don’t remember what you’re supposed to do the morning after a meaningless hookup. Redressing and sneaking out while Alexia sleeps seems a little cold, but you really need to get back to your own hotel and staying here for pillow talk with a girl you’re probably never going to see again feels unnecessary.

In the end, you’re saved from making the decision by a sudden hammering on the hotel room door.

Alexia startles awake at the noise and you watch as she takes a few seconds to return to her surroundings. There’s a sleepy frown on her face as she pushes herself up onto one elbow and runs the fingers of her other hand through her tousled hair, then she smiles blearily as she sees you.

“Morning,” you murmur.

“Hi.”

The hammering on the door returns, louder than before, and is followed by a voice yelling, “Alexia!”

“Shit, that’s my sister,” Alexia says, pushing the sheets away and slipping out of bed.

You watch as she pulls on some underwear and tugs a t-shirt over her head, then answers the door.

“What?” Alexia demands.

Alba peers through the open door, past Alexia to where you’re still sprawled in the bed, the crumpled sheets hiding your nudity. A smirk on her face, Alba turns back to Alexia and says, “I came to ask if you want to come to breakfast but clearly you’re still busy.”

You sit up, the sheets still wrapped around you, and start to look for your clothes in the pile of things on the floor beside the bed. It’s time you left Alexia with her sister and returned to your own friends.

“You woke us up,” Alexia tells Alba. “Let me shower, then we’ll get breakfast.”

“See you downstairs then,” Alba replies. Her attention turns to you again, and she gives you a little wave as she smirks and says, “Nice to see you again.”

Alexia closes the door, then sits down on the end of the bed with a groan.

“Sorry about her,” she apologises. “How are you this morning? Do you want to join us for breakfast?”

“I shouldn’t,” you reply, getting out of bed and pulling your underwear up your legs, then hunting around for your bra.

“You’re more than welcome to join,” Alexia says. “Alba won’t mind.”

“I need to get back to my hotel. My friends are waiting for me.”

You locate the rest of your clothes and start to redress, your back to Alexia as you pull on last night’s clothes and try and make yourself look somewhat presentable for the walk back to your own hotel.

“Maybe we could hang out again?” Alexia suggests. “Or I could get your number?”

You feel your stomach sink. Alexia is nice, she’s attractive, you’ve had fun together, and she’s definitely helped to fill that void in your chest since your relationship ended. But your mind is still busy, your heart still broken, and you don’t think this can be anything more than a holiday fling.

“Look, Alexia…” you start, turning around to look at her.

You watch her face fall as she realises what you’re about to say.

“This has been fun,” you tell her. “I didn’t expect anything like this to happen, and I had the best time with you yesterday. But I also just broke up with someone. I don’t want to lead you on or let you believe this could be anything more than what it is.”

“I understand,” Alexia replies, her expression impossible to read.

You feel a little guilty, though you’re not sure why. You swore that you weren’t going to sleep with anyone while you were here, the breakup still fresh, but it doesn’t mean that last night wasn’t fun, or that you weren’t allowed to indulge. And there was never a promise of anything more than what it was, so you can’t be blamed for leading Alexia on. But you never considered the possibility that Alexia might want to see you again, which makes it a bit of a surprise.

“Sorry,” you feel compelled to apologise. “I’m just not looking for anything more than this right now.”

“I get it. You don’t have to explain.”

You collect the rest of your things together, then turn back to Alexia, still sitting on the edge of the bed. It feels cold to leave without a goodbye kiss after you explored every inch of each other’s bodies last night. But kissing her again would contradict the excuses you’ve just given her.

“I had fun,” you tell her, in lieu of anything else. “It was good to meet you. I really mean that.”

“Yeah, you too,” Alexia agrees, though her voice lacks the enthusiasm needed to make her words sound genuine.

You leave without another word, painfully aware that you’ve outstayed your welcome, and you make your way out of the hotel, past Alexia’s sister in the lobby without making eye contact, with a slightly bitter taste in your mouth as you make the decision to put everything that happened last night behind you.

———

present day

“Oh my god, I’m the asshole?” you ask, as memories of your morning after all come flooding back. 

“I’m not sure I’d use the word ‘asshole’ but yeah, you were the one who turned down anything more. Not that I blame you for that - you had your reasons and you were right, it didn’t need to be anything more than a vacation hookup.”

“So, what?” you ask Alexia, trying to fill in the rest of the blanks. “You asked me out, I said no, and you wiped me from your memory?”

“I moved on,” Alexia explains. “I dated other people. I got on with my life. I’ll admit it, I forgot about you. You were just an anecdote, somebody I met on holiday and had one amazing night with. I didn’t have anything to remember you by, just your first name and the way you made me feel. I never expected to see you again so when you showed up in my life again, it didn’t click that it was you until I started feeling that spark again and remembered when I felt like that before.”

You nod as you process Alexia’s words, and it all starts to make sense. You, rather naively perhaps, thought that there were only two options, that Alexia would have remembered you this entire time, or that she forgot about you the second you left her hotel room in Ibiza, but it’s more nuanced than that. You should have known that from your own experience - you told Alexia that you weren’t interested in anything after Ibiza, but it must have only been a matter of days after returning from your vacation that you googled footballers called Alexia and learned exactly who the girl you hooked up with really was.

“So what happens now?” you ask Alexia.

“What do you mean?” she frowns at you.

“Alba said…” you start.

“Don’t listen to anything my sister says,” Alexia cuts you off. 

“Okay then, Mapi said…”

“What’s Mapi got to do with this?” Alexia interrupts again.

“Mapi interrogated me and I ended up telling her about what happened between us,” you explain. You roll your eyes as you remember Mapi’s teasing yesterday, and continue, “She found it hilarious and called me an idiot but she also said I should be honest with you about how I feel.”

Alexia’s golden eyes soften slightly and she asks, “How do you feel?”

Your heart starts to race in your chest. This is it, the moment you’ve waited for. You could have confessed your feelings for Alexia at Camp Nou yesterday, or at her apartment the night before, or at any other point since Alexia came back into your life at the start of the current football season. But you always found an excuse not to say anything.

Now, Alexia looks at you across the table as she waits for you to answer her question. Whereas before, you’ve avoided telling her how you feel by choosing to say nothing, to avoid telling her now would mean having to tell an outright lie.

It’s time for the truth.

“I like you, Alexia,” you confess, your heart pounding and your hands trembling as you tell her how you really feel. “I like you a ridiculous amount. I thought I could be professional and not let our past get in the way of our jobs but the more time I spend with you, the more I realise that I’m falling for you. Sometimes I think about what could have been if things had been different and we hadn’t wasted the last five years not knowing each other. If there’s a chance of something happening between us, I don’t want to waste any more time.”

“The other night,” Alexia says. “You ran away. Again.”

“I was scared. The way I feel when I’m with you, I haven’t felt like that in a long time. And you have to understand, this is my dream job. I’ve spent years worrying that I’d never be able to make it as a full-time photographer. I didn’t want to risk messing that up by trying to date somebody I work with.”

“What, and now you do?” Alexia raises her eyebrows at you.

“I think you might be worth it,” you tell her. “And I know I’ll regret it if I don’t at least try.”

Alexia’s face twists into a frown, and she says, “I don’t think you know what you want. You ran away in Ibiza, you ran away the other night. How do I know you’re not going to run away again when it gets tough?”

“You don’t,” you say, this admission maybe taking even more bravery than telling Alexia that you like her. “I was overwhelmed by how much I wanted to kiss you and knew I needed a clear head to be certain it’s what I wanted. I should’ve asked you for time instead of just running away. I messed up, I’ll admit it. And I can’t promise you I’m not going to mess up again. But I want to try to be better, and the first step is admitting how I feel about you. I want to be with you. I want you to give me a chance to prove I’m serious about you.”

This is it. Everything is out on the table now, including your heart. It’s up to Alexia to decide what she wants to do with it.

“What changed?” Alexia asks. “Two days ago you didn’t want to take a risk and now you do?”

“I don’t know. I guess I decided you’re a risk worth taking. Plus, everybody I spoke to at the game yesterday seems to think we should be together. Mapi, your sister … you know, even my dad thinks you’d be the perfect daughter-in-law.”

Though the comment is based in truth, it’s supposed to be a joke that pulls a laugh from Alexia. Instead, she stares and arches an eyebrow.

“So you’ve changed your mind because I impressed your dad?”

You let out a groan and say, “You’re not making this easy for me, Alexia.”

“You’re not making this easy for yourself,” Alexia corrects you.

You take a deep breath, then confess, “I want to be with you because I like you. You’re the best part of my day and you’ll continue to be the best part of my day whether you declare your love for me or tell me to fuck off.”

“Are those the only two options?” Alexia asks, the corner of her mouth twitching slightly.

“Not if you can suggest a third.”

“Take me out,” Alexia challenges you. “Prove that you want to be with me. Show me that you’re not going to run away.”

“Like a date?”

“Yes, a date,” Alexia confirms with a nod. “But some rules - firstly I don’t sleep with people on the first date.”

You open your mouth to make a comment about what happened in Ibiza. But quickly shut it again when you remember you’re supposed to be on your best behaviour to prove to Alexia you’re serious about wanting to be with her.

“Number two, there’s a clean slate for both of us,” Alexia continues. “Neither of us is the same person we were five years ago.”

“Agreed.”

“And finally, you’re paying for everything. You owe me that much.”

“Doesn’t that kind of contradict number two?” you ask, raising your eyebrows.

“Shut up,” Alexia warns you, though a smile is just threatening to tug at the corners of her lips as she adds, “If you’re lucky enough to get a second date, I might pay for that.”

You grin, because while there’s still a long way to go and there’s no guarantee that things will work out with Alexia, the fact that she’s willing to give this a chance is more than you could have hoped for when you started working for Barcelona six months ago.

“Deal.”

[retrievablememories]

lady cab driver | seulgi (m)

pairing: chauffeur!seulgi x celebrity!fem!reader genre: smut, pwp word count: 2.1k warnings: car sex, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, slight power play? (employee-boss dynamic) a/n: don’t let me listen to prince songs past 12 a.m. or this is what happens. also, hurray for the first (completed) gay fic on this blog despite my years of posting...how embarrazzing. this was fun to write

sequel to this fic is here!

---

you don’t know how you’ve currently found yourself crawling between the legs of your attractive new chauffeur in the backseat of a limousine, both your clothes disheveled and hair already out of place.

or maybe you do know. all of her flirting and subtle moves over the past few months have paid off, surely, for the both of you. the way she smirks at you now as you peel up the hem of the pencil skirt that fits her so perfectly, exposing her underwear, says it all.

her chauffeur's hat has long slipped off, landing somewhere on the floor for the both of you to forget until your tryst is over. the first few buttons of her blouse are loose and bare the cleavage underneath. her blazer still hangs off one arm, forgotten in the middle of your earlier make-out. you had thought of the whole chauffeur getup as a bit silly and on-the-nose when you first hired seulgi. your past drivers hadn’t bothered with the formality of a uniform, instead wearing whatever business casual clothes they desired. but, seulgi seemed to know what effect this uniform had on women—including you—if the glowing praises from the other stars she’d driven around said anything, and so it stayed.

 it all began about a half-hour earlier, with a fairly simple statement.

“if you’re often lonely, i’m more than happy to provide you with any company you desire,” seulgi says. you stare at the back of the headrest as if that will make her see you, and when it doesn’t, you look right into the rearview mirror, but she keeps her eyes on the road. convenient for your safety, but annoying in every other way.

“do you think i’m lonely?” you ask, unsure whether you should feel offended. you’d made an off-hand comment about your frustration of not knowing who to take as a plus-one to an upcoming event, but you didn’t think it would inspire this reply. plus, you’re pretty sure this statement couldn’t be considered professional—though you could guess many of your past interactions with seulgi weren’t exactly professional either, with the barely-veiled flirting.

“you seem lonely, if you’ll forgive me for mentioning. i’ve noticed there are always other people accompanying you on your rides, but you don’t seem very moved or engaged by them.”

you sit back further against the cushy seat, like it could envelop you and shield you from view if you simply tried hard enough. “i don’t know.” you shrug. “i don’t care. i just don’t like being bothered much. i interact with people daily because i have to. nothing else to it.” seulgi hums and nods to your answer, apparently not going to push her assertion—which is fine with you. you are relieved to have quickly shut down that line of conversation because you aren’t in the mood to be psychoanalyzed today, but something inside of you is still curious. “but what kind of company are you offering, anyway, that would be different from theirs?”

“any kind you’d like. the way we’re talking right now and have been doing for months now, if that’s all you need. or anything else.” her eyes flick to the rearview mirror to look at you when she says or anything else. it’s a quick glance, but you see the rise of her cheeks as she smiles subtly, and you suddenly feel exposed.

you let a stretch of silence settle in the air between you after she says that, wondering if you want to go there—if you want to change things in this way between the two of you. a moment of cold apprehension creeps into your chest when you wonder if maybe you’re misinterpreting her meaning, but there have just been too many signs to say otherwise. the gentle way she holds your hand when she helps you out of the car, how her palm settles on your lower back to steady you when you’re balancing in those wretched high heels, the knowing glance she gives when she catches you watching her adjust her hat or the collar of her blouse in the limo’s mirrors.

“anything…else?”

“you’re the boss here, aren’t you? i merely do what you ask of me,” seulgi replies, her voice low, the words delivered emphatically.

that simple statement makes you throb, your crossed legs tensing. the promise of seulgi letting you take control of the situation… surely, over these past few months, she’s picked up on your need for having control of everything all the time. which is often framed as a major character flaw by most, but you don’t really care as long as you’re getting what you want.

you’ll be arriving back home soon, and you feel like you’ll miss your chance if you don’t respond now. If you don’t—she’ll just let you out of the car, letting her hand linger the slightest moment in yours, and you’ll go inside your big empty house, slumping onto your bed and fishing your vibrator out of your drawer once again. perhaps there will be other chances later, but this one feels like it needs to be grasped immediately.

finally, you unglue yourself from the seat, shuffling forward so you can look through the window where the partition would otherwise be raised. you lean your arms against the seat backrest and try to sound casual.

“stop the limousine, please.”

seulgi is silent for a beat, then says, “anywhere?” like she’s trying to hold back a smile you can practically hear in her voice.

“anywhere.” then you consider this. the car has blackout windows, so it shouldn’t matter, but… “okay, maybe look for a back street or something?”

back street secured, engine cut off, legs spread. you look up at seulgi with her body sprawled across the seat where you were just sitting, legs askew and face painted with anticipation. you laugh quietly at the blended stain of your brown lipstick and her own red shade on her lips; your mouth must look similar. her eyebrows furrow intensely as she watches you press more kisses up her inner thighs, leaving stark traces of lipstick on her flushed skin.

“i’ll admit, this wasn’t quite how i imagined it happening,” she says, voice already a little breathless and catching on certain words.

“how did you imagine it, then?” you ask, pressing yourself closer between where her thighs meet and pushing a thumb against the dampened seat of her underwear. you rub your thumb slowly over her clit, eliciting a low exhale from her.

“that i’d be doing all the work of pleasing you. which i still wouldn’t mind, you know.”

“what a cute way to say you’re eager to taste me, but you can have that later,” you reply, circling the pad of your thumb steadily. “right now this is how i want to solve my loneliness, since you’re so concerned about it.”

“i only want to…” her voice trails into a low moan, her body slouching when you push her underwear to the side to make room for your fingers and mouth. you delicately spread her open with one hand while pressing your mouth against the throbbing bud in a kiss. “...make you happy.”

you feel one of seulgi’s hands slide across your back, which is freely exposed to her touch from the barely-there halter top you’re wearing. the sensation sends a shiver up your spine as you push your tongue against her entrance, only teasing and not entering.

you want to ask her why, but you’re unwilling to separate your mouth from the warm and inviting space between her legs to do so. that may also be too much emotion for what’s supposed to be a quick and dirty fuck in the back of a limo, so you let the question rest and focus on finally slipping a finger into her, ears perking up at the gasp that follows. smirking at the sound of it, you allow your tongue to circle around her clit a few times before you pull your finger back out, and seulgi’s hand stills on your back.

“why’d you stop?” she asks, and it sounds like her voice is edging into petulance but she’s trying very hard to keep it from reaching that destination. you shift away, and your hands go to her hips so you can hurriedly pull her underwear down, leaving it in the growing array of strewn clothes on the floor.

“better access,” you mumble, pulling her closer by the hips and putting her legs firmly over your shoulders. her moans bounce off the interior of the limo when you bury your face back in between her thighs, pressing your tongue flat against her clit and using your finger to search for the spot that will make her scream.

you know you’ve found it when her thighs tense and twitch around your head, her voice pitching up in a new way you haven’t heard yet. you crook your finger into that area a few more times to recreate that sound, smiling to yourself at how easy it is to get a reaction. then you slide in another finger to intensify the effect, still suckling her clit all the while like it’s a sweet little candy made just for you.

“oh–y/n–” she lets out another quavering, desperate moan before biting the sleeve of her shirt, seemingly remembering you’re still technically in public and not wanting to make too much noise.

with your free hand you tug the sleeve away, stopping your actions on her increasingly sensitive core to speak. “no one’s around to hear,” you murmur, “and if they do, it doesn’t matter.”

she makes a sound that’s something like a scoff or a whine but doesn’t attempt to cover her mouth again. rather than being preoccupied with quieting herself, other things are busy calling for her attention, like the mounting tension throughout her body. the restlessness of her legs increases as she nears the precipice, and you must go back to trying to hold at least one of her legs still while your other hand asks her for more with the hurried strokes of your fingers stimulating her g-spot.

her head lolls back onto the seat and her body tightens even more, and you feel an abrupt shiver of pain from her nails raking your back—not enough to be injurious, but enough to make their sharpness known. you watch every one of her reactions, both miniscule and overt, as that glorious electricity running through her expands until it can no longer be contained, and you feel a sudden sense of pride that you’re the one responsible for it all.

she comes with a moan that, if someone were to ask you later, sounds like the personification of “overjoyed.” it’s pure pleasure concentrated in the form of her voice, and it provokes the heat between your own legs, but you ignore that to guide her through her orgasm. you continue kissing her lower lips sweetly and fingering that spot as she comes in your mouth, her hands grasping onto you for dear life and her thighs posing the continuous threat of closing entirely around your head.

it ends when seulgi cries out that she can’t take anymore and you finally pull away from her, easing up your tight hold on her leg and sliding your fingers out of her. you’re satisfied, especially when you study her wetness sticking to your fingers and subsequently suck it off, but you’re already beginning to miss the experience.

seulgi presses her hand against the window to steady herself, her chest heaving as she tries to stabilize her breaths. you sit back on your heels, your hands trailing away from her thighs, and push back some misplaced strands of your hair. you know your silk press must already be sweated out by now. “did you enjoy the ride?” you ask. you scoff at your own silly joke, rolling your eyes when you realize how corny it sounds as soon as it’s said.

seulgi sits up and places her hands on your shoulders for balance, pressing her lips on yours in the next second. you readily accept her kiss, your tongue slipping against hers as she tastes herself on you. your embrace deepens as her hand settles on your neck, the other hand finding itself at the back of your halter top and finally pulling the strings holding it together apart.

when she separates from you, her hand still on your nape and her lips a pale pink from the mere memory of her red lipstick, she says, “i’d tell you yes, but it’s not over yet.”

[hexentanzenigma]

Astarion's Age - About the Headstone ~Sometimes I use Google Translate~ Sorry for the horrible formatting, I'm still figuring out things!

Don't know if someone already talked about calendars, but this is the result a very intense ADHD afternoon procrastinating what I had to do in favor of my hyperfixation. YAY!

Different Calendars, Different dates

Similar to our world, in D&D/Forgotten Realms there are many different calendars and depending on which one it’s used, the date will change (obviously).

Without going too into too much details in this specific article, the main problem with Astarion’s headstone is that, for some, dates aren’t coherent and the suspect is Larian messed up the calendars.

The calendars involved and what we need to know

When Larian talks about dates uses a 4 digits number: for example we know that the adventure starts in 1492.

However, on Astarion’s headstone the years display on 3 digits: for example the year he engraves is 498.

For this reason people started asking what is the logic behind “dropping the 1” and wondering if it took 6 years to the party to defeat the Netherbrain. Here it comes "different calendars, different dates". Short answer: no, there's no "dropped 1". Long answer: keep reading! :D

At this point, all we need to know are 2 different calendars:

Dale Reckoning (DR) When this calendars is used, the date is usually followed by “DR”. It’s the most widely used in Faerûn.

Crumbs of History: it starts (1 DR - Year of Sunrise) from the year in which the Standing Stone was raised by the elves of Cormanthyr, as symbol of their alliance with the humans of The Dales (called “Dalesfolk” in general), after the Elven Court allowed them to settle in the open lands around the forest.

North Reckoning (NR) When this calendar is used, the date is usually followed by “NR”. It’s used in Waterdeep.

Crumbs of History: it starts (1 NR) from the year Ahghairon became the first Lord of Waterdeep after killing Rhaulor of Waterdeep, a War Lord, (1032 DR - Year of the Nightmaidens). Rhaulor wanted to found the “Empire of the North” but Ahghairon opposed him since, in his view, “wisdom and not might would govern the city”. This is considered the founding event of Waterdeep as a city.

What’s the deal with this and Astarion’s headstone?

Year 1 NR is 1032 DR This means that between the Year 1 DR and the Year 1 NR, there is a difference of 1032 years.

1492 DR is 460 NR

Following this, the dates on the headstone might be wrong, with the right year from the NR calendar but with the wrong “DR” denomination or viceversa. Let's take a look:

Astarion's Birth Since we aren't sure if the date is 129 or 229, since the symbols for 1 and 2 are very similar and the headstone texture simulates its being old and wore out we will consider both (above the NR calendar, below the DR calendar).

129 NR or 229 NR 1161 DR or 1261 DR

Astarion's Death

268 NR 1300 DR

Astarion's Rebirth

Uncertain: some see 468 NR, some 458, some 460. However, curiously enough, 460 NR = 1492 DR We will consider 460.

If this is all correct:

268 NR - 129 NR = 139 yo (Astarion’s supposed real age when he died) 1300 DR - 1161 DR

or

268 NR - 229 NR = 39 yo 1300 DR - 1261 DR

Years since being turned into a vampire Spawn

460 NR - 268 NR = 192 years as a Spawn (Astarion’s says he was turned “nearly 200 years ago”).

1492 DR - 1300 DR

Total Years passed since Astarion’s birth

460 NR - 129 NR = 331 1492 DR - 1161 DR

460 NR - 229 NR = 231 1492 DR - 1261 DR

CONCLUSIONS

If we consider 129 NR for his birth, Astarion was 139yo when he was turned. A young elf, socially adult also for the Elven culture/society, in his prime, as he himself says. However, until Larian/Stephen Rooney don't confirm it, it remains a supposition! The two different calendars would also answer to the doubts about the year in which Cazador became a Vampire Lord and the year in which he turned Astarion, since at the current time the latter would have happened before the former.

Current supposed dates Cazador becoming a Vampire Lord 1276 DR Astarion becoming a Vampire Spawn (1)268 DR Probably correct dates As stated above, 268 NR is 1300 DR.

Cazador becoming a Vampire Lord 1276 DR Astarion becoming a Vampire Spawn 1300 DR

So -if all this is right, again- Cazador turned Astarion 24 years after becoming a vampire Lord.

[Sorry for any grammar horror, mistake, weird English. Not my native language! I'll correct it with time :D] Are you curious about what "Astarion" might mean? Take a look to my analysis through the Lord of the Rings Elven Languages!

[not-poignant]

Techniques for writing a bad drug trip:

We're going to be using excerpts from one of my own chapters here from my story Eversion to discuss the kind of writing techniques that will help make a bad drug trip more believable. In context, the character Connor has nonconsensually been given a synthetic made-up highball of drugs that gives him a horrible time, and this does not accurately reflect what bad drug trips look like across all drugs, for example sometimes throwing up on ayahuasca is a feature, and not a bug. What I'll be focusing on instead are the actual narrative techniques that indicate an affected mind and body vs. specific technques for specific drugs.

Beginning Stages:

Firstly, pre-bad-trip, it's useful to depict your character beforehand as being fully - or as close to fully lucid as possible. Have them realising things, actively thinking, describing their surroundings, and doing things in a kind of logical way - show them doing something mundane even, like walking into a room, or a cafe. In this case, Connor walks into a cafe, describes the cafe, makes some mental notes and then has a lucid conversation.

Next, most of the time any drug gives you physical symptoms even before the bad trip part, so describe those. In this case:

Seconds later Connor’s heart began to race

The needle slid free and Connor hardly felt it.

He stumbled over nothing as he passed the group of cyclists, staring at them as his heart beat harder and harder, as sweat broke out over his forehead.

At this point in the story, another character takes over, the person who gives him the highball picks up the conversation because Connor is overwhelmed by the physical sensations and doesn't feel like talking. He stops thinking about his environment accurately and starts to notice things while dropping others. His thoughts are already being affected.

This is when you can start using techniques like time skipping, forgetfulness, memory loss, or alternatively focusing on one thing a lot and a lot of other things a little.

Connor nodded, thinking that he needed to get away, that he needed to go somewhere. He reached for his phone, but it wasn’t there. Where was his phone? His vision slanted, time slipped away from him. He was beneath a tree, throwing up while Gabriel petted his shoulder and waited beside him.

Here we have a strong time skip - Connor goes from looking for his phone, in the next paragraph he's throwing up by a tree. This progression of events has no logic, except for the bad drug trip. Which means we now know Connor is being really affected by what's happening. These two paragraphs also show forgetfulness - Connor needs to get away / needs to go somewhere, but can't remember where. He looks for his phone, but has forgotten Gabriel took it from him. You don't even need the 'time slipped away from him' description, vision slanting or blurring tends to indicate to readers in situations like this that someone is being quite seriously affected by what's happening to them.

Middle Stages:

Then, he was walking, but couldn’t think past the scattered, rushing noises in his ears, looking like black jags across his vision.

He landed hard on his knees and stared down bewildered at the grass. He looked around, vision turning to brightness, cars zooming by too fast and too large, the sky distorted, the clouds inverting. He raised a hand to his head, but another hand – warm and gentle – rested at his temple, thumb gently stroking. Connor leaned into it, whimpering.

We're doing a lot of time skipping now, alongside mental symptoms.

The writing technique itself is changing. In one sentence we cover a lot of choppy subjects - vision turning bright, cars too fast, sky distorting, clouds inverting. It gives a sense of too much information happening at the same time - Connor's senses are overwhelmed.

This kind of choppy information can be delivered in short complete sentences, but I liked one run-on sentence here because it gives that sense of 'and then this and this and this and this and this' which is sometimes how it feels to have too much information coming in at once.

It's also making use of the senses. We have vision and hearing and touch all in the same paragraph. We also have 'too fast' 'too large' - things are too much. Not only that, but describing things as distorted indicates strongly that Connor's already hallucinating and hasn't realised yet.

At this point in your bad drug trip, you should not be using your regular writing style. If your character isn't thinking like normal, you might want to consider also not writing 'like normal' for that character.

(This is the same for when a character is having a flashback, is overwhelmed, or is experiencing something intense for any reason).

He took great, shuddering breaths and then pressed shaking fingers to his stomach. The knot of pain in his thigh was manifesting there as well.

Now, for the bad drug trip to truly be bad, we also have the physicality of the experience. The body comes along for the ride and it often feels like it's dying during a bad drug trip.

Huge shuddering breaths and shaking hands can indicate an overloaded nervous system, also someone who might be going into shock, or who is hyperventilating, or who is literally experiencing respiratory distress. We don't have to know what it is - one or all of them could be true! A person on a bad drug trip, unless they're a medical professional or experienced with bad drug trips, will not know or be assessing what is happening to them as it happens.

He flinched back when he saw black inching out from beneath his knees on the grass, dimly knew it as a hallucination before that awareness vanished and he pushed himself back and away.

Boop a hallucination. Connor was already hallucinating, but now he realises too. You don't need to include this. I was writing a smart, analytical character, and he does know he's having a bad drug trip, so he's allowed little moments of realisation. Your character might know more, or they might know less.

Intense / Peak Stages:

He could feel the way his body pulsed at discordant rhythms, too fast, too slow, never in sync throughout his body. The tips of his fingers were throbbing. His feet felt like stones. He looked at Gabriel’s perfect beard and thought of tearing his face off. It would be brief, brutal, bloody, but then he could just lie down.

Writing emotional distortion here is that Connor feels like behaving violently, which - to this degree - isn't normal for him. The drug overdose is making him vengeful. We know it's part of the drug overdose because the first part of the paragraph focuses on all his physical symptoms. The drug trip might make your character too terrified to function, it might make them aroused (i.e. fuck or die sex pollen scenarios), it might make them giddy. Have some emotional distortion going on on some level. Even if it's extreme anhedonia or apathy in the face of potentially dying.

The hospital was clearly giving him too many sedatives. He didn’t know how to tell them that he had no tolerance, he couldn’t take the dosages that his father was pushing for.

Now we hit full flashback. Connor now believes he's being overdosed with sedatives in the hospital, and is no longer in the present at all. He's not even 'I remember' - he's just there. Flashbacks won't happen with every bad drug trip but they are common to any bad drug trip that is hallucinatory in nature.

Connor stared up at the ceiling of his apartment, and his hands rested on the floor. His heart was beating far too fast, fluttering in his chest. He felt hazy. Every now and then he had to clench his hands into fists so tight that his knuckles ached. A compulsion. He couldn’t stop himself from doing it. He’d feel himself shake, and then he’d stop, and he’d stare upwards. He was lying on the floor.

Connor stared ahead. The corner of his mouth felt wet. He was drooling. His fingers and toes kept twitching against his will.

What Connor is describing now is seizure activity.

Connor isn't consciously clenching his hands into fists, his body is doing that. He calls it a compulsion, but it's not. Feeling your body shake and then stop and then shake again is - in this instance for Connor - active seizure activity.

Not all seizures cause full unconsciousness of the entire brain, for example. Connor doesn't know what's happening to him, but we can tell from the physical symptoms here - heart fast and fluttering, feeling hazy, physical movements completely beyond his control - that he's now in a danger zone.

If you want the bad drug trip to reach 'a normal person would be in an ambulance by now' - this is a good place to be. Focus on strange sensations of the heart, the pulse, shaking, the sensation of overheating or being too cold. If you want, look up the symptoms of shock, or tachycardia.

Aftermath of bad drug trip:

In the aftermath of a bad drug trip, be aware that it can take some time for a person's thoughts to return to normal. Don't write an instant return to normalcy once a person is physically stabilised. Often they show mood shifts that are quite profound. Even a person coming down from MDMA often experiences depression or flatness after a great night out with zero negative memories.

Normal aftermaths/ongoing side effects from bad drug trips include apathy, depression, suicidal ideation, anhedonia, flatness, lethargy, exhaustion (literally, the body physically went through several marathons), pain, and foggy, disconnected thinking (both because the brain went through something traumatic and the drugs take a while to work through the system). GI (gastrointestional disturbances) are common, from 'not going to the bathroom at all' to 'diarrhea' etc. Sometimes these after-effects last days, sometimes they last weeks, sometimes they even last months.

-

So! In summary helpful techniques for bad drug trips can include:

Shorter, choppier sentences to indicate overwhelm

Physical symptoms being 'experienced' - character often doesn't know what's happening except in special circumstances

A progression of physical symptoms.

Focus on all of the senses

Hallucinations and/or flashbacks (one usually happens with the other)

Unusual emotional affect or emotional distortion

Time skips / non-linear time jumps

Inability to think properly

Focusing on some things too much and other things not at all

Realising there is a progression, that must include a heavy aftermath (unless you're trying to be special, or unless it's one of the few drugs that can make you feel unusually euphoric afterwards and then there's still usually a crash after that lmao)

Different drugs create different, known effects, however, people will have different 'bad drug trips' depending on their circumstances.

I'm a little bit afraid this post is going to crash so I'm going to post it now! And for that anon who asked me what kind of writing I used - this is it! :D

[twin-chains]

Explaining A Chronological LOZ Timeline

(Based on this post)

First, the elephant in the room: Skyward Sword

How does Skyward Sword come after Spirit Tracks?

Well, as we know the world was flooded by the goddesses in the adult timeline of OOT which triggered the events of the Wind Waker. Then after WW/PH, Tetra goes on to sail to new lands and found the kingdom of New Hyrule as we know it over a hundred years later in Spirit Tracks.

With Spirit Tracks having extensive train systems, why stop there? The longer the kingdom stands, the structure and technology of New Hyrule will only continue to improve. Like build large temples and cisterns to honor the spirits or advanced tech like robots in the distant future. Maybe even ones to help them mine resources or man pirate ships to continue exploring the Great Sea (Tetra was a pirate first, after all).

But then there was another terrible war on the surface and the goddesses couldn’t flood the land again to save its people. Out of options, there’s no where else to go but up, and Hylia hid her people in the skies until the war was ended. It’s not like godly intervention is a new concept in this timeline. During the Era of the Sky, some of the flood began to rescind, drying up waters to expose sandy deserts and new lands on the surface.

Thus, the ancient temples of Faron and robots in the Sand Sea of Lanayru in Skyward Sword could come from New Hyrule and part of the Great Sea in Spirit Tracks.

Like cmon, they literally have robot pirates!

And New Hyrule already contains interesting clans and races not seen before in other zelda games like the Lokomo and Anouki. It’s not far off to think other unique peoples like the Kwikwi or Mogma once inhabited the same continent.

Furthermore, remember how the recruits of the royal guards/knights of Spirit Tracks wore specific uniforms that model the WW hero’s clothes? What if one of those recruits happened to survive and be sent to Skyloft? They could have wanted to pass on their knowledge and founded the Knight’s Academy, retaining the knight uniforms as a way to preserve their history. Of course, the meaning behind the uniforms was later forgotten since they end up changing up the uniform color every year. It was only by luck (or destiny) that SS Link happened to get the green version of the uniform.

Basically, my reasoning for SS coming far after ST is the ancient temples/robots, Lanayru sand sea, unique species, and knight’s uniforms all come from New Hyrule.

But what about the Master Sword?

For the most part, we know the blade of evil’s bane is a silver sword with a purplish handle. The iconic look that Fi is based off in the first place, right?

Except, some iterations of the master sword are blue. Or the little diamond-shaped gaps of the hilt are inconsistent, being blue or green or purple (with the crossing ribbons part being green in this case), or are missing altogether. Hell, the MS isn’t even present in the original 1986 game.

Sure, some of these minor color changes can be attributed to graphical limitations or different art styles per game. But what about all the transformations the sword has gone under like the drastic red and gold color changes of an upgraded MS in ALTTP/ALBW? How do we go from a thin, white and light green Goddess Sword forged into the larger blade in SS?

(I made a powerpoint infographic :D)

That's why I propose the master sword isn't one single blade, but rather a title given to multiple swords throughout the years. It already has legendary, grandiose titles like "The Blade of Evil's Bane" and "The Sword That Seals The Darkness" so why not 'The Sword of the Master' which would've gotten shortened to 'The Master Sword' over time. But not just any random sword can be deemed the MS. It's the hero of the sword, the wielder of it, that makes it the worthy blade of a master.

That way it includes the first hero of TLOZ wields the "magical sword" who hadn't yet become a master or how the hero of men forges the Picori Blade which later becomes the Four Sword in MC. And explains how the master sword seems to change locations between the Lost Woods or temples all the time. They're all different blades.

Yes, some Master Swords can be retained between generations though. I'd be willing to say the sword from OOT is the same in TP or the one forged in SS is the same one in BOTW/TOTK for instance (since Fi's chime can be heard in TOTK).

But how does Demise's curse and the reincarnation cycle fit into this?

During the end of Skyward Sword, Demise speaks these final words:

"My hate...never perishes. It is born anew in a cycle with no end! I will rise again! Those like you... Those who share the blood of the goddess and the spirit of the hero... They are eternally bound to this curse. An incarnation of my hatred shall ever follow your kind, dooming them to wander a blood-soaked sea of darkness for all time."

Usually, this is interpreted as Demise declaring this Link and Zelda as the first of an eternal cycle and Ganondorf is his reincarnation. Yet in the Skyward Sword manga, there is a whole other hero who fought for Hylia before the reincarnated SS hero, so how can the SS hero before the first iteration who 'started' the reincarnation cycle?

Remember when Demise says 'those with the blood of the goddess and spirit of the hero are forever bound to this curse/cycle.' What if he isn't saying 'I am actively binding you two (Link and Zelda) to a curse I'm creating right now' as is the common interpretation. Rather, he could be saying 'there is a pre-existing curse that you two are already bound to, and only a god like me can perceive it. So I'm pointing it out to you now because I'm adding more to it.'

It's a bit of a stretch but bare with me.

Yes, Ganondorf/Ganon is seen as the reincarnation of Demise. I mean they tend to have similar builds and the same striking orange-red hair, right? But there several other villains in the franchise that don't remotely resemble Demise or his hatred. In fact, the only time Ganondorf looks like a true reincarnation of Demise is during TOTK (more on this in a bit).

Instead, there's something greater at play. Demise supposedly locks these two souls in reincarnation but fails to acknowledge why the triforce always seems to be a part of this cycle as well. Link is always the representation of courage and Zelda is always wisdom even when these souls are reincarnated as completely different people.

The only explanation I can think of is that the golden goddesses created Link and Zelda's souls to permanently embody their triforces. They locked these two in reincarnation as insurance to keep peace and order in the world when there is a threat or thief of the triforce of power. Sorta like a system of balance, their souls were put in place to keep the more volatile of the three triforces, power, in check if it got out of hand. As mortals, Link and Zelda wouldn't really be aware of the inherent duty/burden placed on their souls but it would be more obvious to an outside deity like Demise. That's why these specific versions of Link and Zelda are only really ever reincarnated when there is any sort of threat to Hyrule to deal with, not just Ganon but also Vaati, Zant, Yuga, Cole, etc.

Besides the reincarnation cycle theory, Demise definitely did declare that his hatred would be reincarnated in SS though. But it's not just every iteration of Ganon. With the greater extent of destruction that Demise causes compared to most zelda villains, I'd go so far as to say the battle against Ghirahim and Demise in the events of SS were the first Calamity from BOTW. The second Calamity was that of the Sheikah, the ancient Zonai hero, and the Divine Beast detailed 10,000 years before the events of BOTW/TOTK. And the third Calamity was the events of not just BOTW, but also TOTK.

You know, the era when the physical embodiment of hatred (aka malice and gloom) poisoned the land, when the hero and most of the kingdom was killed, and when rehydrated Ganondorf looked eeriely more similar to Demise than any other Ganon. It matches up a little too well with how 'an incarnation of Demise's hatred' will haunt them forever. Especially when there is a giant valley on the BOTW map literally called The Breach of Demise.

More to come about how the other games fit into this timeline au. Let me know your thoughts and ideas!

[shivering-isles-cryptid]

The Theocratic Papers

Bit of background before you read these, these are 4 essays written by me in character for what I believed should have been a third option in the Skyrim Civil war. Also, warning, this was proofread but no spelling or grammatical errors were brought to my attention so I’m not sure if there are any or not, and it’s very long. Very.

Also here it is @nerevar-quote-and-star and @stormbeyondreality the complete thing, even though Mal has already read it all.

You can also find this on Ao3:

My fellow citizens of Skyrim. Our land has been plagued by a brutal war that has deprecated not just our home, but families. That’s why me and my comrades are proposing a third option. We shed our imperialized form and return to the glory days of the Old Nordic pantheon. The glory days of Kyne and Shor, Tsun and Stuhn, of Jhunal and the Testing Gods.

Now, i understand that this will be a difficult choice for many. The Imperials have had a grip on Skyrim for centuries, and we do not expect for it to change over night. But we do believe we can get there eventually, with the grace of Jhunal. In this document, we shall list the many reasons why we believe neither sides of this war are truly good options, and why we think you should join with us in returning to the true glory days of Skyrim.

Point 1: the Sins of a Stormcloak

The first issue we wish to bring to light is the sins and crimes committed by the Jarl of Windhelm. This list is by no means small, and many of them were well hidden by him and those using him.

First, the Markarth Incident. The Reachfolk took back the city, which was stolen from them in the first place, and treated all of the Nord residents fairly, allowing them to live their lives as if nothing changed. The Empire wasn’t going to do anything about it, as they were already spent from the Great War, and trying to keep the Aldmeri Dominion at bay. They had bigger enemies to worry about than some Skyrim natives fighting over land. But Jarl Hrolfdir decided he wanted his castle back, so he contacted Ulfric and told him he would allow Talos worship in his city. So Ulfric gathered a militia and ransacked Markarth, slaughtering women and children’s n’s every single Reachman in the city.

Stuhn teaches us the value in keeping prisoners of war. But Ulfric slaughtered all of them. Man, woman, child, none were spared by his harsh hand. This one example shows the cruelty in Ulfrics heart, as he took the kindhearted Reachman who merely fought for their homes and never harmed a single Nord that didn’t attack them first, and he massacred them all. That is what truly happened. It was not a Markarth Incident. It was a Markarth Massacre.

I have personally interviewed a Nord resident of Markarth who was present for this event, and his story will further support our argument.

“I was there when the Forsworn took the city. It was not a blood full battle, with the Legion having left us for the Imperial City. They dethroned Jarl Hrolfdir, instead of executing him. They lived in the city, occupying empty homes instead of removing us from ours. I remember them all, reuniting with family and friends, making new friends and starting new families. I watched children grow up, seeing elders die, and couples wed. 2 years they lived alongside us, families mixing and growing. Then he came. Ulfric, wielding powers long forgotten. He invaded the city, alongside a militia of farmers and mercenaries. And the dethroned Hrolfdir. Ulfric gathered every Reachman in the city to the city square, executing each and everyone of them. Man, woman, child, elder, it didn’t matter to him. They were all killed, save for Madanach and the few who escaped. He even killed Callacha, my sweet Callacha.”

At this moment, the man broke into tears at the memory. This quote acts as a first person account of the true event of the Markarth Massacre. Ulfric is no hero, he is a battle thirsty, power hungry man who doesn’t deserve any kind of power, much less the power of the Voice. And once our informant finished mourning his lost love, he continued to explain to us that despite the victory, Ulfric refused to cede the city to Hrolfdir until he decreed that Talos worship be allowed in the city. When the Thalmor agents came and demanded Ulfrics arrest, many of the cities residents demanded Hrolfdir agree.

Ulfric killed their friends, their families, and almost took control of their city, and then faced no punishment until another invading force came and demanded it. Ulfrics actions not only caused the deaths of hundreds of people and the ruin of countless lives, but he directly caused the Thalmor to occupy Skyrim, which they hadn’t paid any mind to nor did they enforce the White-Gold Concordant.

Second, Ulfric murdered the High King of Skyrim. This is a topic under heavy debate across Skyrim. The Stormcloaks argue that it was an honor-duel, a tradition that dates back to the first kings of Skyrim. That is something I can not argue with, as a challenge was made and accepted. But that does not mean Ulfrics victory followed the rules of the duel. Ulfric used a power not seen by any but the Greybeards for hundreds of years. His use of the Thu’um to kill Skyrims High King is an affront to Kyne and a bastardization of her gift to her people.

The Thu’um May once have been used by Nords the way swords are used today, but that day has long since past. Once upon a time, magicks were used by the Norse under the watchful tutelage of Jhunal, but that day was long ago, and has been replaced with a fear and hatred for the ancient arts. Would the Stormcloaks defend Ulfric the Murderer with as much fervor and fury if he had used a spell instead of a Shout? Would they still declare him king if he had used the gift of Jhunal instead of the gift of Kyne?

No, they wouldn’t have. And I ask you, dear reader, what is truly the difference between the two arts? What is the difference between flames from you hand and flames from your mouth? Moving back the High King Torygg. We hold members in our ranks who work in the Solitude Court, and their accounts of Torygg show that he agreed with Ulfric. He believed that Skyrim should be an independent nation, and that the Imperial Empire had grown weak.

But Ulfric challenged him anyway. And yes, I will admit that Ulfric couldn’t possibly have known of Toryggs beliefs, but if he had just given him a chance. If he had pleaded his case first, instead of jumping on the chance to challenge the young man. This challenge held no glory, no honor to be won. Torygg was young, with little martial training, and Ulfric was a war veteran wielding an ancient power from the Gods themselves.

All who die in worthy ways go to Shor, on the wings of Kyne and her daughters, but because of Ulfric, Torygg will be going to him young, dishonored, and without the wisdom of age.

Thirdly, Ulfric caused the return of the dragons, however unintentional it may have been. We all know of the Dragonborn. The hero who bears the soul of a dragon and the body of a mortal. We grew up on the stories of their return, on the stories of Alduins destruction of the world. And we all know the prophecy.

When misrule takes its place at the eight corners of the world.

When the Brass Tower walks and Time is reshaped

When the thrice-blessed fail and the Red-Tower trembles

When the Dragonborn Ruler loses his throne, and the White Tower falls

When the Snow Tower lies sundered, kingless, bleeding

The World-Eater wakes, and the Wheel turns upon the Last Dragonborn

Those last two lines are the ones I’d like to bring a focus to. “When the Snow Tower lies sundered, kingless, bleeding. The World-Eater wakes, and the Wheel turns upon the Last Dragonborn.” Our scholars have spent wells analyzing this prophecy, and they have come to the conclusion that the Snow Tower refers to Skyrim herself, a bit obvious once you look at it, and once we learned that, it was obvious what the other words meant.

With the death of High King Torygg, Ulfric set the final part of this prophecy into place. By killing the High King, he left Skyrim “sundered, kingless, bleeding.” He opened the path way for Alduin to return, setting in motion the end of the world. While he also set in motion the return of the Dragonborn, if the Dovahkiin had failed, all of Nirn would have fallen under his control.

Ulfrics lust for power and hunger for glory has placed not just him, not just Skyrim, but all of Tamriel in danger! He had endangered everyone in his quest for glory with no concern of the consequences. While he may not have known he would cause Alduins return, even the political backlash from the Empire, Thalmor, and Skyrim itself weren’t considered by Ulfric the Murderer.

All of these reason, and more we may not know yet, are why Ulfric is not fit to rule Skyrim, or even Windhelm. He has shown a blatant disregard for the lives of the Nords, and even though he claims to hold the values of a traditional Nord, he only follows the ones that support him and his lies. He calls for an ancient duel, then uses magic to win, he calls for religious freedom so he can worship an Imperial god. He lies and cheats when it suits him while preaching about honor and Nordic pride. But do not take my criticisms of Ulfric for support of the Empire, for that has issues of its own.

Point 2. Imperial Issues

The issues with the Legion are easier to list, as they have been happening for centuries, unlike Ulfrics all being within the past 20-30 years. Many of our issues are not with the legion itself, but with the Empire, much like Ulfric we have members who are war veterans, who fought in the Great War, who even joined the Civil War when the Empire called for them, but were dismissed due to injuries and saw how little the Empire truly cares about Skyrim.

The first thing we should discuss is the Great War. This war weighed heavy on many people in Skyrim, and all of Tamriel, with the deaths of loved ones and almost themselves. This war with the Aldmeri Dominion is not an issue itself. The Dominion is a blight and that is plain for us all to see. Their head god is the killer of Shor, and they talk as if they’re inherently better than the Nords.

Our issue is not with the war. Our issue is with its conclusion. During the siege of the Imperial City, Emperor Titus Mede II sacrificed an entire Legion so he could escape. He then called all of the troops from Hammerfell and Skyrim back, leaving the provinces defenseless while he marched on the now Dominion controlled Imperial City. Jhunal and Stuhn teach us the importance of strategic planning, but this follows the precedent of the Empire abandoning Skyrim. Much like during the Oblivion Crisis, when our lands were ravaged by the forces of Mehrunes Dagon, and yet the Legion couldn’t spare a single legion to help. Yes, they had they’re own issues to deal with, but they couldn’t even send a militia?

Now, back to the Great War, more specifically the treaty that ended it. The White-Gold Concordant was a treaty signed by Emperor Titus Mede II 4E 175, after he had taken the Imperial City back. And it was completed unnecessary. The Empire had won, they had the City back, they had driven the Dominion from Hammerfell, it was only a matter of time before they regained their strength and took the rest of Cyrodiil back.

And they still signed it. They outlawed the worship of the God of the Empire. They gave Hammerfell to the Dominion, without even discussing it with them. They disbanded the Blades, the honor guard of the Empire. This is such an obvious show that the Empire doesn’t care for its citizens, or it’s traditions. They sold an entire country to the Dominion, what’s to stop them from doing it again? They outlawed the worship of the man who founded their empire, why wouldn’t they outlaw our gods? They disbanded the Blades, the personal guard of the Dragonborn, if they would throw out they’re own traditions without a second thought, imagine what they would do to ours?

Secondly, Titus Mede the First was not a liberator of the Empire, but a conqueror and the Mede Dynasty holds no legitimacy to their rule. After the assassination of Chancellor Ocato, a Nibenese witch-warrior was crowned emperor. While he was not liked by the people, he was favored by the Elder Council, who’s duty it is to choose the Emperor. They had made their choice, and as citizens of the Empire it was our duty to respect it.

But Titus Mede did not. He marched on the Imperial City, crowning himself Emperor. He conquered an Empire, not founded. He dethroned the Emperor and went against the Elder Council. This once again shows such a blatant disregard for tradition that we can’t help but fear what they’ll ignore next.

And our current Emperor, Titus Mede II has made our current empire a shadow of itself. Valenwood and Elsweyr have been ceded to the Thalmor, Morrowind has yet to recover from Red Mountain and hasn’t been a part of the Empire since 4E 48, Hammerfell was sold to the Dominion before ceding from the Empire itself, and Black Marsh was lost long ago. The current state of the Empire only includes 3 countries, and they struggle to hold onto even those.

Titus Mede II signed the Concordant which started the Civil War, and he makes no moves to end it, sending one general without an army, with no weapons, no money, and no supplies. He is unfit to rule, as he had proven time and time again. And that’s not even touching on the illegitimacy of his claim to the throne.

Titus Mede I stole his crown, conquering the Empire. Titus Mede II dragged the Empire to the ground. And neither are truly worthy of their titles. The Empire was started by the Slave-Queen Alessia with the help of Kyne and Mara. The Second Empire was started by Reman Cyrodiil, the next in the line of Dragonborn Emperors. The Third Empire was started by Tiber Septim, Dragon of the North. Our current empire was conquered by Titus Mede, a Nibenese noble with an ego.

One of these things are not like the others, with Titus Mede being the first non-Dragonborn emperor to start a new dynasty. Why, in this time of war and dragons, would the Last Dragonborn not be born in the line of Emperors, if they were truly meant to rule? Why would Akatosh not bless the ruling family with his blood if he truly approved of their reign. Because they hold no legitimate claim to the throne. Instead, he gave the power to Skyrim, with the blessing of Shor and Kyne, in order to stop Alduin the Word Eater and set the world to a new age.

The Last Dragonborn holds a stronger claim to the Empire than any of the Mede’s could hope for. And yet they make no grab for power, because they know they don’t have to. They have their kingdom here, in Skyrim. The land of the Nords and home of the Sons and Daughters of Kyne.

Now, while we call for a return to the Old Ways of Skyrim, we understand that many may have forgotten their roots, and will need a reminder. So in the next passage we shall educate you all on the true path of the Nords.

Point 3: Traditions and Customs

A return to tradition can not happen if we do not know our traditions and history. Us Nords are an ancient culture, and our ways date back to the founding of Skyrim. We have many things to cover, so this may be the longest part of the Papers. First, the gods of the Old Ways.

Kyne

The Kiss at the End. Goddess of the Storm. Widow of Shor and patron of warriors. The Mother of Men. She, her daughters, and Parthunaax taught the Nords the Thu’um or “Storm Voice”. Her tears over Shors death were the first rain in Nirn. She is associated with hawks.

Mara

Goddess of Love. Handmaiden of Kyne. Concubine of Shor. Goddess of fertility and agriculture. She is often depicted as a she-wolf.

Dibella

Goddess of Beauty. Worshipped across Skyrim, each of her cults being dedicated to different parts of her sphere. Some are devoted to women, others art, and others the more sensual sides of her. Dibella is often times associated with moths.

Stuhn

God of Ransom. Brother of Tsun, Shield-thane to Shor. Warrior-god who fought against the Aldmeri gods. He taught Men how to and the importance of taking prisoners of war, and is represented by the whale.

Jhunal

The Rune God. God of knowledge and hermetic orders. His worship and teachings have been shunned by modern day Skyrim. He is often times depicted as an owl or has an owl with him.

Shor

God of the Underworld. Shor sided with Men after the creation of the world. Elven gods conspired against him and brought along his defeat, dooming him to the afterlife, Sovengarde. He is the Chief of the Gods. Not explicitly worshipped, for he is a dead god. Shor is depicted as a fox in most cases. And it is commonly believed that Shor would come down to Earth in mortal vessels known as Shezzarines to the Imperials and Ysmir to us.

Orkey

Also called Old Knocker, he is the god of mortality. Nords once held lives as long as the elves, until Orkey tricked us into a bargain that shortened our life spans to 6 years, until Shor removed the curse. Orkey, like the other testing gods, is depicted as a snake.

Alduin

The World Eater. He is fated to destroy the world, eating it in order to make place for the next. He is both a creator and a harbinger of the apocalypse. Many of modern day Skyrim has become very well acquainted with Alduin, due to his return and defeat at the hands of the Dragonborn. Alduin is, obviously, depicted as a dragon.

The Testing Gods

Herma Mora (the Woodland Man) tests the Nords through wit. He is an ancient demon of knowledge, who spent much of Ysgramors life targeting him. He is also called Hermaeus Mora

Mauloch (God of Orcs) tests the Nords through warfare. Mauloch spent much time torturing the heirs of King Harald. He is also called Malacath.

Tsun

The Dead God of trials against adversity. He died defending Shor in battle and now guards the whalebone bridge leading to Shors Hall. He is the brother of Stuhn. Despite being one of the dead gods, when Tsun is honored he is often depicted as a bear.

Now that we have covered the Gods themselves, it’s time to talk about the traditions. One thing that is very important in both the old ways and modern ways is music and stories.

The skalds of old held places of high esteem in our society. The oral traditions and stories they passed down hold the history of our people, and the songs they spun acted as the light in the darkest of days. And with Dibella being the patron of the arts, it is no wonder that the skalds hold her favor.

Another part of our traditions are the ice wraith hunts. In the dead of winter, young men would go to the tallest peaks for weeks hunting the wraiths in order to earn their citizenship. This acted as not just a test of their battle prowess, but as a way to prove their faith in Kyne, for those who’s faith is strong are rewarded with an immunity to the cold.

One very special tradition is the naming ceremony. Where a priest of Jhunal and a priestess of Mara would use omens and prophecy to choose a name for a child during a special ceremony before they’re ninth birthday.

One tradition that is not so happy is the practice of wergild, an act of retribution in Stuhns name. Where if one life is taken, another must be given, or an amount of high value items will be taken as payment, if it is agreed upon.

To bring this back to a lighter note, there are 4 holidays celebrated in the ancient traditions. The first is the Feast of Dibella, where a silver, moth shaped mirror is displayed for the goddess so that she might be drawn in by her beauty and bless the city. Another holiday is Feast of the Dead, where on the 13th of Suns Dawn, a feast takes place in honor of the Five Hundread Companions of Ysgramor. One very special holiday is Konunleikar, which is a celebration of the 10th anniversary of the High Kings coronation, which we sadly did not get to celebrate for High King Torygg as we had not even made it to the one year anniversary of his rule.

One lost tradition is the use of the Thu’um. Like Ulfric and the Greybeards, the ancient Nords were capable of using the Thu’um and shouts since we were created by Kyne. The Ancient Tongues were a staple of Nordic civilization and honored as parts of the society. They were instrumental in wartime and sieges, while also acting as voices for the gods. But that changed when Jurgen Windcaller banned the use of Thu’um outside of times of “true need”.

Windcaller never specified what true need meant, and so the Greybeards, his disciples, sit in their home of High Hrothgar doing nothing as the world falls around them. Tiber Septim did establish the Imperial College of the Voice in hopes to return the practice to Skyrim, but it never amounted to anything.

The funerary rights used by ancient Nords are still in practice in many places today, such as Windhelm, Markarth, Winterhold, Riften, and Falkreath. While Falkreath doesn’t bury their dead in a tomb, the rites used are those done by ancient Mords, albeit with an Imperial twist that honors Arkay instead of Shor. Winterholds burial practices are more similar to Solstheim’s burials as they entomb the body’s in ice using magic only known by the College of Winterhold. Another funeral rite that was practiced by the ancient birds was ancestor veneration, with offerings of gold, wine, apples, snowberries, and weapons being left for them to take to the afterlife. This is a practice still held by many Norse to this day.

Now, we have covered as many of the old traditions as we can, it is time for us to move on to the true point of these essays. How the old ways and help us move into the future.

Point 4: The Future with the Past

We know how we sound, we must return to the past in order to move into the future. But listen to me my brothers and sisters. The Nords have lived under Imperial control since the first empire. Since Alessia, they have tried to convert us to their gods. They have tried to make us forget our culture in favor of there’s, and for centuries they had failed.

We can return to that strength again, if we return to the old ways. The ways of Kyne and Shor, Jhunal and Stuhn, Mara and Orkey. The gods gave us strength, and ever since we abandoned them, we have gotten weaker. Now do not get us wrong, we understand that this can not happen immediately. It will take time for the Nords to return to our old ways, so here is what we suggest.

First, we dethrone Ulfric as Jarl of Windhelm, replacing him with an actual True Nord of Skyrim. Then, we convene the moot to vote in a high king or queen who is dedicated to the old ways. Then, we reinstate the temples to the old gods in each city. Converting the temple of Kynareth in Whiterun to a temple of Kyne, the Temple of Talos in Windhelm to a temple of Shor, we shall open a temple of Stuhn in Morthal, and Winterhold shall be known as the City of Jhunal.

The High King or Queen shall also act as avatars of either Shor or Kyne on earth, being placed as the heads of not just the country, but also the religious practices.

The traditions named previously shall come back to Skyrim, with the naming ceremony and ice wraith hunt being the first to come back. We know that many in Skyrim do not hold the martial prowess for the ice wraith hunt, so we do not expect the first one to take place for 9 years after we take command, as to rightfully train Skyrims people in warfare, to at least take on a wraith.

Skyrims Halls of the Dead shall also be converted into temples of Shor and Tsun, and be open will laces of worship and veneration to not just the gods, but ancestors as well. Outside of each major city, there shall be a spot of nature and trees sacred to Kyne. Hunting is permitted here, as long as you can prove yourself to the goddess and her servants.

Efforts will be made to excavate Labyrinthian, and return it to the great city it once was. We shall also set up a museum to teach about Nordic heroes and history such as the Dragon Cult and the Nordic-Falmer War. With help from the College of Winterhold, we hope to excavate as many Nordic ruins we can, either converting them into cities, burial mounds, or at least setting the dead to rest.

And as for the Thalmor and Empire, they will be given a chance to leave Skyrim or join us, but if they wish for neither then we will make them leave. We hope to avoid war, as enough blood had been spilled during the Great War and Civil War, but if we are left with no other option, then we will fight and we will win for the glory of Skyrim and her children.

Now, one thing that neither side of the Civil War has yet to address is the Dragons. We will not be as blind. With the defeat of Alduin, the dragon threat has been reduced but not eliminated. So we shall create a group dedicated to wiping out the rest of the dragon threat. Under the patronage of Kyne, our Einherjar will eradicate the dragon threat from Skyrim.

This is not everything we wish to do, but it is as much as we can say at this point in the war. We hope this essay has convinced you to side with us against both the False Empire and the Traitorous Stormcloaks. If so, come to the Skyrim Historical Society in Whiterun and present them a copy of these papers and they shall know what to do next.

Published by the Skyrim Historical Society, Whiterun Wind District.

[foosybit]

🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹 nobu i love u 🥹🥹

my high score rank is actually embarrassing but i guess it just proves how much dia i needed to burn to get no.11 lol, anyway if ur a loser who likes numbers and letters and wanna see his scr i have a shit ton more to say below

fyi the month range means that i took note of my dia count somewhere within that range (usually near the beginning but sometimes id forget and take note a little later) and the notes is the reason the dia suffered (and not events that happened during that month), and the 2 big "total dia spent" and "net dia lost" only applies to me gettinf 5 copies, not me deciding to burn dia to rank on day 8, which is why that day is below the rest

and i did the event with 55% gacha bonus due to maxxed mama and tatsumi (wataru decided they hate me and want me dead and didnt come home)

while im already rambling, i'll say that i started vipI in september bc i was doing some really bad math in my notebook that showed i needed like 115k dia to get 5 copies even with vipII (i am not a math guy........) and was like "oh man i am not gonna reach that goal by january, i guess if im gonna spend money anyway i'll do a slow trickle instead of dropping everything in january" and then i actually did the event and realized i used less than half of my savings LOL never trust foosy math, that meant i could rank tho :]

but hey if i gain 30k btwn now and mayoi event, i should get 5 copies again with no hiccups hehehehehe and if shu gacha likes me then maybe ill have leftovers to rank again, or at least have enough for yuta whos event is immediately after orz...... yuta my son who hates my guts (did 80 pulls on that fs and didnt get him) and mayoi my beautiful wife who also hates my guts (dont even get me started on mayoi) (122 pulls for his fs to come home)(200 pulls on his dead end land and i still dont have it over a year later)(and mind u that was while the sanrio mayoi was going on. no i still havent forgotten. no i will never forgive happyele for this.) i cant believe the events for the 2 enstars who hate me the most are next to each other, they seriously want me dead

ensemble stars music is my favorite number game 👍

finally heres his cute scr

he looks like a little lemon soda pop 🍋

ok foosy ramblings over i love rambling i can keep talking 4ever

[goji-pilled]

MK-S: Interesting, I hadn’t considered that as a sign of Rykard being blond; honestly, I thought the painting was actually made of stone, a sort of carving made of metal.

As for the other aspect, there’s something interesting I learned a while ago, and this was before the DLC: Apparently, the Fire Giant hair whip has a description that mentions both Radagon, him hating his red hair, and something about a curse from the Fire Giant. I had been watching a video that mentioned that some of the nuance may have been lost in translation, but I took away a possible meaning that his red hair was a curse from the Fire Giants. (Take this with a grain of salt/skepticism, but it is the foundation for a fun theory).

Something that had always bothered me about that was “What does Radagon have to do with the fire giants? It was Godfrey that was tasked with taking them out.” Then it hit me: We have Marika’s husband Godfrey, with his army, killing the fire giants. She is the top of the totem pole, and thus target of one last act of spite. And a curse of fiery red hair. What I’m getting at is that this may have been the moment where the fire giants, or their Fell God, split Marika in two, one Marika, and one Radagon. With Radagon containing all the parts of her dedicated to the Golden Order.

This may explain why she banished Godfrey and the Tarnished: They were the closest to her, and would notice any change in herself, so she banished them after this fight to keep anyone from learning this had happened. And Radagon was still powerful, plus Marika was now lacking a general, so she sent him to deal with Rennala while she tried to figure this out. Radagon was noted as trying to combine sorceries and incantations, seeking to become “complete” or “whole”.

It’s possible that Marika thought nothing of this, or his kids, until (And I’m just now considering this) Ranni was named an Empyerian. That draws the attention of the Two Fingers, who may want an explanation for how Marika split in two; Oh Yeah, and the fingers can take centuries to commune/talk to the Greater Will, so it’s a case of “I turn my back for one century, and you split yourself in two and one half makes an Empyrean child!”

So Radagon leaves. (I’m not sure how the Amber egg fits in here, especially since it seems like this Great Rune was removed before Marika smashed the Elden Ring.) Possibly in an attempt to be one being again, they end up conceiving the Twins; but the fact that they’re the same person split in two, their curses could be the demigod equivalent of birth defects.

Maybe when smashing the Elden Ring, the world itself broke apart, and when trying to reforge it, Radagon made them the same physical being, but the crack from their split remained.

Hope that was a fun theory. Have a good day.

trust me i was in shambles over finding out rykard was blonde too...

that aside, the whole radagon-fire giants connection thing is another whole can of worms id almost forgotten. i find your thought really interessting though. to punish marika for the war waged against the giants by splitting her apart, taking all the parts of her loyal to the golden order and giving it the image of the keepers of the flame capable of burning the erdtree, the very symbol of the order, sounds incredibly interessting. like we already know the greater will's influence on the world, it wouldnt be surprising if the fell god was capable of something like this.

and it does explain why radagon hates his hair so much and wants to be whole again so bad. not to mention it also works with something melina says marika said to him. something like "you have yet to become a god, you have yet to become me"

now my question is the timeline of events... maybe i have forgotten or not found it yet but the whole thing in the land of shadow shouldve happened like. before the erdtree was even a thing, while the war with the giants shouldve happened during the early stages of the erdtree.

which would not match up with the original point: messmer. since its clear he was marika's first born.

but again maybe i forgot or missed something in the timeline... there is so much information that can be so confusing in this game, im trying to keep up though!

[scarletsaphire]

Daytime Stargazing: Dannymay 2023 Day 6

Danny is very excited to watch the solar eclipse with his friends.

Danny was excited. He had been for the past couple of weeks, ever since he had seen the predictions: there was a solar eclipse happening today, one that would be visible from Amity Park. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity, and Danny could not wait. He had spent the past two weeks finding every member of his rogue’s gallery that he could and telling them that if they even thought about attacking Amity during the solar eclipse he would be leaving them in the thermos until the next one Danny got to see. If he ever got to see one. All of the ghosts agreed; they knew better than to get between a ghost and their Obsession.

The solar eclipse was set to happen at 1:35 PM on Tuesday. Danny had convinced (read: begged) Sam to help him petition the school to let all the students out to watch it for the 4-ish minutes it would last. In the end, they didn’t actually need to do anything; the school was already planning to let all students (who had proper eyewear!) out to watch the historical event.

Danny had barely been able to sleep that night, checking to make sure he had done everything he needed to to prepare. He had read up on eclipses, both lunar and solar, though he didn’t really need to. Most of the information was things that he already knew, but he read through all of the new articles that had been posted in light of the eclipse prediction. He had found three separate pairs of sunglasses to bring with him to school, in case he or his friends forgot their pair. He spent a solid hour circling between checking to make sure he had placed all of them in his backpack along with everything else he would need, and running through a mental list of any ghosts he may have forgotten to warn. He couldn’t think of any. Just to be safe, he snuck down to the labs and left a note on the inside of the portal door that simply read “Fuck off until tomorrow. -Phantom”

He was out of the house and at the school before his parents would have even been awake; he had preparations to make. The school's plan for the eclipse was to have all students with proper eyewear and interest gather in the cafeteria 30 minutes before the eclipse was scheduled to start. Then, they would let students out by grade, starting with the oldest and making their way down to the youngest, until everyone was gathered in the school yard. It wasn’t a bad plan, inherently, and was probably good enough for the couple hundred students that would be participating, but standing in a crowd, at ground level, forced to watch what some consider the biggest astronomical event the human eye could see through sunglasses? Danny could do much, much better.

Danny flew to the roof of Casper High, maintaining his invisibility even after he landed. It was uncommon for someone who couldn’t fly to end up on the roof, but there was a staircase. It was old and dilapidated and tucked into a back corner that Danny would never have known about if he hadn’t walked down it, but that didn’t mean that no one knew about it. Better safe than sorry.

Danny unloaded his bag into a messy pile a few feet from the ledge of the roof. It was noticeably cleaner than the rest of the roof, which was covered in dust and dirt and debris, partially from having been untouched for who knows how long and partially from the remnants of ghost fights. This small area had been cleared off by Tucker, Sam and him. They didn’t come up here super often, since Sam and Tucker couldn’t get there without him, but it was useful to have a place for all of them to get their stories straight and bandage any wounds they may have received before returning to their classes. Today it would serve a much nicer purpose.

Danny straightened out a fluffy blanket that had been sitting in the back of his closet collecting dust for the past year and a half. It was worn in some places, and there was a large purple stain that obscured part of the NASA logo. Danny secured the edges of the blanket down with other items he had dumped from his backpack; a camera, a bag of sandwiches (only ultra-recyclo vegetables on Sam’s and every meat the place had on Tucker’s, with his own being brought from home. He didn’t want to feed either of his friends the vaguely growing bologna that his parents had brought home, but it tasted fine to Danny.), and a couple bottles of water. He set two of the pairs of sunglasses he had taken from home on the blanket as well. Before laying down on the blanket and looking into the sky.

It was still early. Not quite early enough for the sky to still be dark, but early enough that the sky was still a muted blue, with traces of orange only starting to peak from the horizon. He would have preferred the stars, of course, but the sunrise was still beautiful. He watched it until he had to sneak down and get to class.

The day crawled by, every second seeming to take an eternity. He didn’t know how Mr. Lancer could go on talking about the Scarlet Letter when there was only- Danny glanced at the clock on the wall- 4 hours and 17 minutes until the solar eclipse. He slumped further into his seat. It felt like he had been waiting for this eclipse to start for hours already, and it was still over half the school day away. He suppressed a groan, leaning his head onto the desk in front of him. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to sleep, not with how excited he was even with Mr. Lancer’s droning in the background, but he could at least pretend. He closed his eyes and let the monotonous sound of lessons from a boring book older than he was wash over him. He forced himself to not count in his head and keep track of how long had passed since he closed his eyes, but it felt like it had been at least 20 minutes. He opened his eyes and glanced at the clock. 4 hours and 10 minutes until the eclipse. This time Danny did groan. Luckily, Mr. Lancer didn’t hear him.

The classes he shared with Sam or Tucker passed faster, mostly because they let him talk quietly about stars and eclipses and their causes and what they meant, both in modern science and in certain ancient cultures. They had heard all of it multiple times in the past few weeks, but as long as he whispered and the teachers didn’t notice, they listened again, making all the right noises in the right places. Danny was grateful for that. They were such good friends.

Eventually, it was almost lunch time, and an announcement came over the intercom, explaining how the proceedings for the eclipse viewing were to go. Before lunch, everyone would grab their protective eyewear, with certain teachers giving out spares if you forgot yours. After lunch as normal, they would split into groups by grade, and teacher volunteers would escort everyone out. Danny grinned widely at Sam and Tucker, who gave him an excited, albeit less so than Danny’s, smile.

Lunch was fine. Nothing came to life to try and attack Danny, the Lunch Lady, who he had visited before the eclipse and shared a nice picnic lunch with her in exchange for her not coming today, made no appearances, and Sam and Tucker’s bickering over vegetables and meat was entirely friendly. The groups started to form as more and more people started to finish lunch, and a teacher Danny didn’t know by name announced that everyone was to start lining up for the walk outside. Danny grabbed both of his friends by the arm and dragged them to the line, practically vibrating with excitement. The student body began the slow walk outside of the cafeteria, with the teacher at the door taking names and checking eyewear. The three of them flashed their sunglasses, before continuing out the door and promptly vanishing as Danny turned them all invisible. It was, perhaps, not the most inconspicuous use of his powers, but there was a wall in the way of the people behind him, and a large crowd in front, so who would assume the three of them didn’t just disappear into the crowd instead of disappear entirely?

Danny flew through the school to the rooftop, carrying both Tucker and Sam in his arms before dumping them onto the blanket he had prepared that morning. He let the invisibility fall as he too settled onto the blanket. “Did you prepare all this for little old us?” Tucker said. “Oh, such a gentleman.” He batted his eyes in an exaggerated, teasing manner.

“You’re the only one here who can be described as little and old,” Sam retorted, putting her sunglasses back into her bag and grabbing the ones Danny had laid out.

“I am a whole inch shorter than you!” Tucker protested, grabbing his set. “But yes, I am older. Respect your elders.” He nudged her with his shoulder, just enough for her to feel it. Sam shoved him back significantly harder, and Tucker fell to his side. “Help, I’ve fallen and I can’t get up!” While Tucker was laying on the ground, whining about kids these days, Sam slipped on her set of sunglasses, and gaped. “Wow, these are weird.” The sunglasses had been made by the Fentons originally to filter out ectobased visual stimuli to help explore the Ghost Zone. Then they realized that all visual stimuli in the ghost zone would be ectobased, and that it was a stupid idea, and they abandoned the project. Danny had taken it over (with some help, of course) and had managed to make it so that they would filter out harmful radiation while keeping the visuals largely the same. It had been one of the things Danny had done to keep busy while waiting for the eclipse.

Danny heard the crowd of people at the front of the school down below. It was largely just idle chatter, a lot of it focusing on how nice it was to get a couple minutes out of class. He bit his lip. This was a huge moment, one that most of the people here would never be able to witness again in their life, and all they could think about was missing a bit of class?

The sky began to darken, and Danny forced his mind to go quiet. His eyes didn’t need protection; they may be more sensitive than a human’s, but they were more resilient too. He watched in awed silence as the sky continued to darken around him. He could see stars. They were much fainter than they were at night, and he was almost certain he wouldn’t be able to see them if he wasn’t a halfa. He might not even have been able to see them if he didn’t have an astronomy based obsession. But he could see them, faint in the distance, and it was the most wonderful thing he’d ever seen. Screw ghosts and alternate dimensions, this was magical.

Slowly, the sky began to brighten again around him, and the stars faded back into the clear blue sky, the sun returning to its blinding brilliance. Danny realized he had been floating above the blanket, Tucker’s hand wrapped around his wrist to keep him tethered. He fell to the ground quickly, a ghostly green blush rushing over his cheeks. “Sorry,” he said with a nervous laugh.

“No problem,” Tucker said, returning the laugh. “It’s what I’m here for, since Sam was busy with the camera.” Danny whirled on her so quickly she jumped slightly, before all three of them started laughing again.

“Here,” she scooched so that she was sitting in between Danny and Tucker, pulling up the pictures she had taken. Most of them were focused on the eclipse itself. Danny was disappointed that he couldn’t see the miniscule pinpricks of light he had seen, but he wasn’t surprised. That was, until they got to the last picture. The only one that involved him. Sam had somehow managed to get him centered on the sun, and surrounding where Danny floated in the picture were the stars he had seen. The further away from him, the less bright they were, the less clear, but they were still there. He took the camera out of Sam’s hands and peered down at it.

“I don’t know what caused it,” Sam said. “But it…well, its cheesy and gross but it looked like you were highlighting them, somehow.”

Tucker nodded. “Sam’s right. It was cheesy and gross.”

Sam, once again, shoved Tucker. The moment of the eclipse was over. Teachers were leading students back inside. Soon, the three of them would have to return to different classes of boring lessons that Danny only half understood. It didn’t matter. This had been a very good day.

[bumblesimagines]

So, we're already onto season 3 of OBX which means Midnight Beach will soon be coming to either an end or a hiatus (haven't decided yet as this season left me underwhelmed and I don't have high expectations for next season). This means, we'll be moving onto another series once it's over and done with/put on pause.

That brings me to three series I have either halfway fleshed out (as in plot, relationships, etc) or completely fleshed out. Keep in mind that regardless of the end result, the TWD fic will happen sooner or later as I have muse for it and plan to subject you all to 11 seasons of it cause if I suffer, you suffer <3.

The Walking Dead / The Last Days

(Y/N) Morales and his longtime friend and work buddy, Glenn Rhee, find themselves fighting to survive in a world newly plunged into a zombie apocalypse. Due to the goodness of their hearts, they rescue a fella named Rick Grimes and their lifes become intertwined with his as they travel together and try to stay alive while battling both the dead and the living. Follow (Y/N) as he's forced to make tough decisions and try to form a new life for himself.

TW/CW: Violence, gun mentions, lots of cursing, descriptions of gore/death, mentions/talk of depression, typical warnings you'd expect from a zombie show and/or The Walking Dead, 11 seasons to go through

Tropes: Found Family, Opposites Attract, very brief enemies to lovers (twice w different ppl), Right person wrong time, Shared Trauma, obnoxiously long Slowburn, Grump x Sunshine, Death of many loved ones, Friends with Benefits

Endgame Romance: Daryl Dixon BUT he is the slowburn and right person wrong time (later on becomes right person right time) so (Y/N) forms romantic relationships with others throughout the fic including guys and gals because we stan a bi king.

Game of Thrones / The Youngest Hound

After being taken to King's Landing as a child by his brother Sandor Clegane to protect him, (Y/N) Clegane earns himself a reputation for being as ruthless and frightening as his older brothers. Assigned as the Sworn Shield to the young Prince Tommen, (Y/N)'s had the unfortunate luck of practically being part of the Lannister-Baratheon family. Due to his job, he accompanies the family to Winterfell where he first lays eyes on the naive Sansa Stark who he brushes off as just another vain lady. But fate has a funny sense of humor and after a series of events, he flees from King's Landing with her when King Joffrey is murdered. Follow (Y/N) as he deals with everything life throws at him and Sansa Stark.

TW/CW: This is such a dead dove do not eat fic. Violence, descriptions of death/gore, implied abusive brother (Gregor), Joffrey and Cersei are warnings alone tbh, abusive relationship/actions (Half the men Sansa interacts with), trauma, predatory behavior (Baelish, Cersei) typical GoT warnings honestly, 8 seasons to go through

Tropes: Brief Rivals/Enemies to Lovers, Grump x Sunshine, Protector x Protectee/Bodyguard x Bodyguarded(?), Royalty, Opposites attract, Slowburn, Unrequited Love for a bit

Endgame Romance: Sansa Stark

Legacies / Forgotten Fairytale

Note: This will be rewritten from part 1 since this unfinished series makes me cringe when I read it. This does mean I'll be slowly getting around to finishing series that have been left uncompleted.

Sent to spy on the students at The Salvatore School for the Young and Gifted, (Y/N) (L/N) makes his presence known from day 1. Being a dragon-vampire hybrid with a sarcastic and often times mean personality, (Y/N) lands himself the bad boy role amongst the students and gets himself on the bad side of infamous Hope Mikaelson. However, he soon changes his tune and becomes a part of the Super Squad, although his many secrets make it hard for others to fully trust him.

TW/CW: Foul language, violence, mentions of things like demons and such, uhhhh yeah.

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers, Slowburn, Right Person Wrong Time, Villain x Hero, Antihero x Hero, Shared Trauma, Unrequited Love (different character from love interests), Found Family, Bad Boy x Good Girl, slight Miscommunication

Endgame Romance: Hope Mikaelson BUT (Y/N) does have a serious romantic relationship before her

[dustofthedailylife]

I absolutely love your recent al-haitham fic. and me knowing being obsessed with lore in (hopefully you dont mind me pouring this to you!) in 1.1 scara founds that the skies of teyvat is a fake “The stars, the sky... It's all a gigantic hoax. A lie.” Then in 3.3 i think or 3.2 we got to see dottore for the first time and revisit the question to nahida about the sky being fake. and theorists been trying to figure that if you get close to finding about the big lie the world resets or something and with khaneri’ah being the godless city they found out about it and the unknown god destroyed the city and the survivors were turned into monsters and resets teyvat. i hope this makes sense?! this what I remember from a genshin lore video lol.

Thank you so much!! It makes me so happy to hear that your loved it! :3

And I absolutely don't mind you pouring this to me because omg I am obsessed with Genshin lore and I could ramble about it all day, literally.

Without further ado *dons tinfoil hat* let me ramble about lore and theories a bit here.

I have heard about that theory and it seems to make sense to some extent...

Khaen'riah didn't have a god but it is said that they at least were proficient in the Art of Khemia (as indicated by Gold/Rhinedottir aka. Albedo' and Durin's creator). As well as creating the automatons you still find throughout the world. This to me shows that they were definitely striving for wisdom and knowledge.

Seeing as they were a nation without a god who could "keep them in check" maybe they strayed too far and Celestia destroyed the nation before they could find anything out and cursed them. My theory here is that Celestia may actually be in place to keep "nations in check", a keeper of sorts. Every time a nail dropped from it somewhere it lead to some horrendous events. most prominently I'm thinking about Dragonspine whose population was wiped out and the area was turned into a frozen wasteland by the Skyfrost Nail a long time ago. Maybe something similar happened in Khaen'riah.

It doesn't help that all the archons keep quiet about the Cataclysm as well which doesn't help. Like, come on guys, indulge my curiosity, I need to know!

Maybe the "time reset" theory is also why when we start the game we basically land in Teyvat 500 years after the Cataclysm whereas our twin has already been a part of the world for a long time (and also has recordings in Irminsul, therefore is no descender like we are - that part still confuses me a lot. Like I cannot wrap my brain around how that is supposed to be possible. Maybe we'll ask Dain about it in the new 3.5 AQ? I need answers.)

After finishing the Sumeru AQ however I had to think back on the Havria story quest of Zhongli. Then he says something like "as long as people like you exist nothing in this world will ever be forgotten."

It also didn't help that we got to experience a small-scale time loop in the Sumeru AQ which many saw as a hint of Teyvat as a while being one. Me included.

This could indicate that the Archons (at least the ones who were there for it) may be aware of the time reset. And so far that would only be Zhongli and Venti of the ones we know. And they're both sus if you ask me. And that could mean the Tsaritsa knows too and her plan of collecting all the gnosi has to do with it and trying to oppose this. I don't believe that the Fatui are truly the bad guys here. It would be too obvious.

I also saw a video recently, which could be a modded or altered version of Genshin so this has to be taken with a huge grain of salt. But one player found the "login screen" door over Teyvat in the sky and jumped off at the end only to then land directly on the hands of the statue of Venti in Mondstadt city - which is also inscribed as "Gateway to Celestia" at the bottom. If this is true this opens some more possible options for theories.

I remember watching a video that claimed Teyvat was a simulation and since they also renamed "mihoyo" to "hoyoverse" it could indicate that they're trying to create a multiverse that is loosely tied together. Therefore "Teyvat" is actually a simulation in Honkai Impact the 3rd. I think it was called "the Ark" (I don't play Honkai so I don't 100% know anymore what they said in the video).

That and the fact that the Unknown God from the beginning of the game looked a lot like Kiana Kaslana from HI3. This may mean that the Travelers tried to enter "Project Ark" for some reason and she tried to stop them.

So many possibilities it makes my brain smoke >.<

Sorry if this was all a bit all over the place and incoherent but I tried to write down as many of my thoughts about the "world is a lie and the sky is fake" thing in a hopefully somewhat understandable manner. I still always feel like this guy when rambling about the lore of this game. Because omg, what we're told through quests is so surface-level it's driving me nuts.

And you're welcome to ramble about lore to me any time. As you may see... I am quite invested myself 😂

[nicoducon]

Ep. 1 of explaining how long Ganondorf has been sealed under Hyrule Castle before Tears of the Kingdom and trying to figure out what timeline the game belongs to.

The common answer here is 10000 years, referring to the prophecy in Breath of the Wild, but it's not that, not even close. It's much more than that actually, since the cutscenes in botw talk about Calamity Ganon, not Ganondorf himself*. In the timeline, Ganondorf hasn't been seen since The Wind Waker or Twilight Princess, both of which are the same Ganondorf from Ocarina of Time.

At the time of Breath of the Wild, these events have become nothing more than myths, tales so old that historical facts have become impossible to tell apart from fairy tales. The series gives so little clues as to how much time has passed between games that it is impossible to determine how much time has elapsed. The only basis we have is that there is 10000 years before BotW and the events of OoT/TP/WW had already been almost forgotten by then. BotW is probably so far in the future compared to the events of other games that it is impossible to tell which timeline it belongs to. But we can try :)

The Downfall timeline doesn't feature a Ganondorf, instead he turns into Ganon when he is sealed in the Dark World and remains as Ganon throughout the timeline until he is killed in The Legend of Zelda.

The Adult timeline starts with the same Ganondorf from OoT in the Wind Waker breaking his seal after ages of being imprisoned. Hyrule is then flooded by the gods after Ganondorf brought darkness over the land. Multiple hundreds of years after the flood, Wind Waker happens and Ganondorf gets stabbed in the head with the Master Sword, turns to stone and is left in old Hyrule to be flooded and forgotten.

Not Ganondorf not Ganon are heard of after Wind Waker and Link and Tetra go on a search for a new Hyrule elsewhere with Phantom Hourglass and Sprit Tracks happening later. I find it hard to believe that BotW could be in this timeline because Hyrule (and therefore Ganondorf and the Master Sword ) is sunken deep below the great sea and new Hyrule is in some other place far away.

The Child timeline starts with Majora's Mask but since it takes place in Termina it doesn't affect anything in Hyrule. The first major events in Hyrule are OoT Ganondorf's failed execution and sealing in the Twilight realm. The events of Twilight Princess take place and Ganondorf is killed "for good" by Link. Four Sword Adventures happens hundreds of years later and the Links seal Ganon within the Four Sword. BUT this isn't the same Ganondorf as in OoT, it is a reincarnation, a "new iteration" of the character, which means that the original Ganondorf's corpse could very well still be around.

I find this timeline to be the most plausible simply because most of the adult timeline happens in other lands far away and the downfall timeline doesn't feature a Ganondorf after the one from OoT turned into Ganon and was killed.

But BotW and TotK could be so distant in the future that this could be an entirely different Ganondorf that we haven't seen or heard of yet. In this case the story doesn't connect with the other ones and is so distant that the timeline literally doesn't matter because anything could've happened. The great sea could've dried out and Hyrule restored, this Ganondorf could be from another story similar to TP's failed execution but thousands of years later with a totally different story. We know so little about the setting of BotW & co. compared to the other games that anything could be possible. It could even be another timeline in itself where Ganondorf was successfully executed. Or it could even be in between two games that had an arbitrary amount of time separating them that ended up being far longer than we thought.

This ended up being longer than I thought, as always.

*The difference between Ganondorf and Ganon is important. Ganondorf is his gerudo form, like in OoT, WW and TP. Ganon is the giant boar from, a physical manifestation of his power and hatred.

These are Ganondorf

And these are Ganon

I'm not including Calamity Ganon and Dark Beast Ganon here because they might actually be a sort of Phantom Ganon, akin to the ones from OoT and WW, and like the blights too. Not actually Ganon nor Ganondorf, but a puppet controlled by him.

[smantisen]

Telling the truth would make no difference, or it could even make things worse.  Legally speaking, Arya probably gets in more trouble from a factual retelling of events (not that that would be morally justified), and I don’t know if Sansa is deliberately protecting Arya, doesn’t actually remember because she drank the wine, or is just doing the safest option she knows.  

Sorry, but this is simply untrue. Arya did tell the truth and the consequence was not Arya getting into more trouble, but the king expressing uncertainty at who was actually in the right:

Prince Joffrey was pale as he began his very different version of events. When his son was done talking, the king rose heavily from his seat, looking like a man who wanted to be anywhere but here. "What in all the seven hells am I supposed to make of this? He says one thing, she says another."

Clearly Robert didn’t think that Arya attacking Joffrey was sufficient cause for her to be punished. At this point, Sansa confirming Arya’s story could only help her because then Robert could be confident in stating that Arya was telling the truth (which is what he believed in any case). It’s possible that it wouldn’t have helped much, but it certainly wouldn’t have made things worse. Which of course means that the “Sansa protecting Arya” theory is simply not plausible - Sansa knew that she would be helping her sister by supporting her testimony. The idea that she had forgotten what happened is not even worth discussing - Sansa remembered well what had happened, as shown in later books:

Joffrey is a monster. He lied about the butcher's boy and made Father kill my wolf. (A Storm of Swords, Sansa I)

Lady, who everyone knows and agrees is completely innocent, is killed.  The only person who stands up for her aside from Sansa, is Arya.  

But would this have happened if Sansa had told the truth? If Robert believed that Arya was telling the truth, he’d be likely angry at his son for the unprovoked attack, Cersei would probably be too busy defending her son to demand for Lady to be killed and Robert would be more likely to refuse her. It’s not certain, but far from implausible that it would have saved her.

On top of that, Sansa confirming Arya’s story could be just what Ned needed to demand the end of the betrothal. He could hardly do that if Arya story was doubted, but if Robert had accepted it, he would be in a good position to argue for this. It doesn’t mean it would happen, but it’s again far from implausible.

Finally, I don’t really blame Sansa for refusing to testify - she was obviously frightened. But it clearly shows that she’s not as obedient as she’s presented to be, which was my whole point. The theory of her going along with the betrothal only because it was expected of her is dependent on her always putting obedience before any other consideration and the incident at the Trident shows that this isn’t really the case.

Too little too late on his part, let’s be honest here.   Sansa had been and is continuing to be punished for doing NOTHING wrong and it’s because of Ned’s dereliction of duty the whole time has left Sansa isolated and abandoned.   

It’s not too little and it’s certainly not too late. Breaking the betrothal would be a major insult to the king and Ned risked much by doing so. It’s clear evidence that he placed Sansa’s well-being beyond any political considerations, something that not many fathers would do in this setting. As for the rest of the argument, it’s simply not supported by the text, as I already pointed out above. Sansa was quite happy with life in King’s Landing until Ned decided to break the betrothal, it’s not surprising that he didn’t spend much time with her when he had all his other responsibilities and a daughter that was actually unhappy.

It’s exactly his fault; he’s the parent and adult.  

Thing is, Sansa is smart, she would be able to understand the situation if Ned had actually put in the effort to communicate with her; and not just in the moment, but in all the time leading up to that point.  

I don’t want to reopen this discussion, when I’ve already explained everything in detail. To be blunt, if everything she had seen Joffrey do had not persuaded Sansa that Joffrey was not a good match for her, nothing her father said could have made any difference.

It's always "Sansa was so stupid and naive for not immediately understanding that Joffrey was a total creep" and never "Not one member of her family decided to warn her that their dad had handed her over to a total creep for the rest of her life".

Like, if you want to talk about Sansa "betraying Ned and selling out her family" (which she never did, but never mind), first explain to me how they didn't betray and sell her out first.