#I never meant for this name to be 'exclusive' either

[gouacheshipping]

GouAche ship name P.S.A

THE NAME "GOUACHESHIPPING" (WHICH I CAME UP WITH BEFORE JOURNEYS BEGAN BECAUSE I NEEDED A SHIP TAG & BECAUSE IT WAS A PUN ON THEIR NAMES) IS NOT AND WAS NEVER MEANT TO BE USED BY ANYONE WHO BASHES FELLOW ASH-SHIPPERS (AMOUR, PALLET, NEGAI, ETC.)

[accio-sriracha]

Sirius Anything-But-Black.

~~~♤~~~

Sirius hates his last name. He always joked around by going by his friend's names instead.

Sirius Potter was the most common, of course. He was practically raised by the Potter's, he and James had been brothers for years of course he was a Potter.

Second was Pettigrew, mostly when joking around with Peter.

He'd make comments like "This is why it's so great to be a part of the Pettigrew family!" and "Don't you dare disrespect the Pettigrew Brothers!"

A handful of times he even used Lily's last name, referring to himself as Sirius Evans.

She finds it hilarious, as soon as she catches on that he hates his last name she starts calling him Evans too.

Whenever she'd pass by the group and greet James as Potter, she'd always make sure to reply to Sirius' "Hey, Evans!" With a "Hello, Evans." In return.

Every once in a while he used their other friend's names too; Meadowes, Longbottom, McKinnon, he went as far as to use McGonagall once and nearly got detention for a week.

But he never used Lupin.

Remus asks him one lazy Saturday morning as the group was sprawled across the furniture in the common room.

He'd wondered for years, they all secretly had, but it never meant enough to any of them to really ask.

"Why do you never go by Sirius Lupin?" Remus asked, filling the lull in conversation.

It was supposed to be a casual question, but there was nothing casual about the look Sirius gave him when he replied,

"Because you haven't asked me to marry you yet, Moons."

The room was silent. Remus and Sirius were staring at each other for a long time. Remus slowly stood up and walked over to him, kneeling down in front of his chair,

"Sirius, will you marry me?" He whispered.

"Of course, Remus." Sirius breathed.

Nobody else could tell if they were joking or not. They'd never once shown feelings towards each other, nothing more than what they normally did.

Remus wasn't even gay.

But then, all of the sudden, Remus and Sirius were found walking the halls hand in hand, placing gentle kisses on each other's cheeks.

They started sleeping in the same bed at night, Remus curled on his side with his nose nuzzled against Sirius' neck.

Sirius exclusively went by Sirius Lupin now, refusing to go by anything else. He also made it very clear to all of his suitors that he was engaged and off the market.

The others still couldn't quite tell how much further they would go for the bit, but they seemed happy?? So they were all happy too.

Immediately after graduation they got married and made it official. Everyone was kinda blown away, but then again, it was Remus and Sirius, they've kind of always been dating, even when they weren't.

The others finally asked years later if they'd been secretly dating prior to that, since it was the only thing that made sense.

Sirius shook his head, "No, I had no idea Rem liked me back. I was just really in love with him."

Remus nodded, explaining he wasn't actually sure if Sirius was joking or not either at first, but he was too in love to question it, and took the chance he got.

It ended up working out, Sirius was now- in all ways including legally- Mr. Sirius Lupin.

And he'd never been happier.

~~~♤~~~

[hannieehaee]

Can you do sumn with vernon with a pretty girl like drop dead pretty she’s really shy, quiet and introverted like you can do wtv

content: crush!vernon, kinda simp!vernon, mutual crush, talking stage turned into official relationship, afab reader, fluff, confession, etc.

wc: 1166

a/n: i hope u enjoy what i came up with c:

masterlist

vernon just couldn't help himself whenever you were around, you were simply too pretty a sight for him to behold; always making him fumble and act an idiot.

vernon wasnt really one to put too much weight on appearance, always considering what's on the inside to be far more important, but you had just drawn him in. you were the prettiest thing he had ever seen, and vernon knew were fully unaware of your beauty, which only added even more to your charm.

your shy demeanor and cute blush any time he stumbled over his words made the embarrassment worth it. he would make a joke of himself in front of the entire nation if it meant seeing your shy smile and the way you'd attempt to cover your mouth as you giggled at him.

the two of you weren't dating, per say, but vernon liked to think you were on your way there. with his inability to function around you and your introverted demeanor combined, it was a bit difficult for either of you to ask the other out, but vernon was very much enjoying the 'will they, wont they' the two of you had going on.

he knew you liked him, which was something he prided himself on greatly, always showing off to the members (and consequently turning into putty the moment you walked in).

"yeah, when are you gonna ask her out, nonnie?", had asked seungkwan one day during practice.

the members had been taking breaks on and off throughout the day, with that day being pretty much free aside from dance practice. during one of the breaks, you had come up, as vernon had decided to invite you over to impress you so that you could lend him some company during his work day. the members had taken this opportunity to berate him about your current relationship status.

"oh, you're not dating? huh. mind if i-",

"don't finish that sentence," vernon interrupted mingyu before he could even picture a reality in which you even so much as looked mingyu's way.

"fesity. you really like her, huh? she is super pretty," joined in jeonghan, instigating further conversation.

"yeah ... how'd you get her attention?", now was chan's turn. it was like they were taking turns to drive him as insane as possible while he waited for your arrival.

"can you guys shut up? i'm going to ask her out. she's just a little shy, i wanna show her that i really like her before making things official," he rebutted.

"well, you should hurry up. pretty girls like that are never single for too long; shy or not," added seungcheol.

before vernon could respond by telling him the intricacies of your exclusive relationship friendship, you suddenly walked in, calling vernon's name from the entrance and consequently scrunching up your nose in embarrassment at having accidentally invoked every member's attention upon entering.

vernon couldn't help but coo at you from where he was standing, adoring how shy you could be sometimes. you were entirely unaware of the fact that a few of his members had just been inquiring if they had a chance with you just before your arrival.

despite having been around the members a few times (with your friendship with vernon being quite obviously just a phase of denial on both of your parts), you were still a bit shy around them. you knew that they knew you liked vernon, and you knew that they knew vernon liked you. it was all a childish game of chicken as the two of you waited for the other to make things official.

even through what you believed to be an awkward moment, one look at vernon's soft smile and you pushed that awkwardness aside and walked towards him, offering him a hug before being stolen away by a few of the other members for a greeting hug of their own. vernon simply grumbled beside you, knowing they were all friendly with you, but still wanting you all to himself.

when you finished, he childishly grabbed onto your hand, now holding it in his as a sign of possessiveness (a behavior vernon had never expressed up until meeting you). the two of you inadvertently blushed and looked away from each other, making seungkwan jokingly gag while you weren't looking.

"okay, get him out of here. you two disgust me," seungkwan practically pushed the two of you towards the exit, "don't chicken out this time! ask her out, you coward!", he finished before slamming the door on the two of you, throwing a panicked vernon a satisfied smile.

your eyes had widened as you looked back at vernon, a surprised smile making its way to your face, "'ask me out'?", you asked him.

"oh, uh, yeah ... about that-"

"mhm?"

he cleared his throat and finally made eye contact with you, realizing you were instigating him just to tease him. this eased the nerves he felt at you now knowing that he liked you (which was something he kind of already assumed you knew), though it did not prevent the endless string of words that left his mouth moments later.

"hey! don't make fun of me. i really like you, okay? of course i'm nervous. i've been nervous, which is why i've chickened out of asking you out every single time", his eyes trailed off you due to his nerves, "and you're- you're just so fucking pretty, every time you look at me i lose my train of thought. i have no idea how im even saying this to you right now. or why i cant seem to shut up, fuck. okay, fuck. what i meant to say is: will you please go out with me? officially? as, you know ... boyfriend and girlfriend?", he finished, finally looking at you again, though now with wide eyes and almost breathless.

you matched his appearance with your own breathlessness and shocked expression, but this did not last long, as you seemed to give yourself a short pep talk in your head before nodding to yourself and pulling him towards you, stealing a kiss from him.

he froze completely for a few moments before finally taking action and giving in, kissing you in a way sweeter way than his brain was begging him to (he did not want to scare you away by kissing you in the way he really wanted to).

once more, the two of you were too shy to make eye contact at first, simply blushing and holding onto each other in the most timid way possible.

vernon broke the silence first, "im really hoping that's a yes ..?"

you giggled back, "yes, vernon. i'd love that."

with a boyish fist bump thrown towards the sky, vernon let out a quiet 'fuck yeah!' before holding onto your hand and walking you out of the building, finally leading you to your first outing as an official couple, already planning your first date in his head.

[thatsdemko]

the devils on my shoulders - c.sainz & l.norris

threes company masterlist

masterlist

part two - coming soon

pairings: lando norris x fem!reader & Carlos sainz x fem!reader

warnings: not intended for minors + mentions of oral ( f + m receiving) + plot twist at the end

the tasteful dinner in front of you, is rather boring.

the cocktails and small conversations are yawn worthy, as you sit in between your father and his business partners.

they toast to another successful weekend. another yawn escapes your lips.

you’re so thankful your eyes catch something more entertaining than the snotty rich business men.

a classy pair of gentlemen dressed in suits. one dapper in black and the other in blue. one with curls and the other with soft thick brown locks.

you feel your heart pounding out of your chest. their enigma pulls you in. curiosity strikes, as you shift upward in your seat and excuse yourself.

you brush past the two gentlemen. your hand lingers on the elder looking one, and when you walk past you make sure you give him a quick glance over your shoulder.

you’ve reeled him in.

“she’s hot.”

you step up to the bar. reaching into your purse, it’s fake out move, he swoops in and slams his card down. you had no intentions of paying, either one of them wouldn’t have wasted the time, and it seems the younger one stepped up to the plate first.

“who are you?” he shifts towards you as the bartender is off with his credit card. no introductions, no nothing. he’s straight to the point.

“what do you want me to be?” you tilt your head upward to eye him when his mate steps up beside him. the one you original made a move on.

he looks over at the elder one and back at you, “what do you want from us?”

—

Carlos and Lando are their names. Formula 1 drivers are their professions. you’ve seemed to land yourself another rich snotty man men.

they were a duo— at least claimed to be a duo.

they weren’t a package deal, you visited one more often than the other but it never meant you were exclusively seeing that lad.

he’s dressed in bright orange, the other in bright red, as they enter your hotel lobby. it doesn’t take long for them to spot you, you’re in the corner booth cheering another successful weekend. that yawn escapes your lips.

“come on,” Carlos gestures for lando to follow into the hotel restaurant. they take a seat at the bar directly across from your table. they have a perfect view you in your tight mini black dress.

from the corner of your eye you see the two of them seated at the bar. both accompanied by drinks in front of them. Carlos is talking to the bartender, his index finger points at your table and you feel the heat instantly rush to your cheeks.

you can’t make out what’s being said, but when the bartender walks away from Carlos you catch him flash you a wink and settle into his seat.

“excuse me, miss,” your waitress taps your shoulder making you turn towards her. the chatter of the business men die down to hear what she has to say, “those two gentlemen sent you this drink.”

she sets the napkin down first and you recognize the handwriting on the bottom of the tiny cloth. it’s the room number that lando was staying in. Carlos must’ve wrote it down for you, like he thinks you haven’t been in that room enough times this weekend.

“tell them thank you.” you say quickly pocketing the napkin into your purse and sip on the rather strong cocktail.

your eyes flicker over at the two of them, cheeky smiles on both of their lips you’ll make them pay for.

—

“happy for you to join us.” lando’s bright smile is the first thing you see when he opens the door. you want to wipe that smile clean from the embarrassment those two gave you.

“you realize the men I was with are my dads business partners and potential clients? you could’ve got him fired!” you push past lando to find Carlos cozied up in the hotel bed, your missing pair of expensive lacy pants lay beside him neatly folded.

“ay, we’re sorry, amor.” Carlos sits up from the bed, his hand gently cups your shoulder, thumb brushing your exposed skin of your collarbone, “it won’t happen again.” his smile is sincere, and when you feel landos hand against your back you see the same look on his face.

you sigh, allowing your stiff muscles to relax, “you two are the devils on my shoulders.”

lando chuckles from beside you. he moves to the bed and tosses you the pair of panties, “you left these at Carlos’ place.”

“no I’m pretty sure I left them with you?”

“you don’t remember that night?” a smile is pulled on lando’s lips. you back away from Carlos carefully before plopping your body down onto the bed. your eyes scan the two boys trying to recall that night. there was too many nights with them.

“lando, help remind her of that night, will you?”

lando sits in the chair in the corner of the room, his hands are placed on the arms of each chair, “well we first started out here.” he wiggles his eyebrows, “you claimed it not good enough for yourself.”

you feel a fire against your skin. you can begin to recall some of the memories of that night.

“this isn’t big enough for the both of us.” you whispered in between kisses. your fingers work undoing the buttons on his shirt, “we need to move.”

“don’t forget me.” Carlos’ hands roam your body. he pulls you close into his chest, hands creeping upward towards your breasts, “did you think I’d let him have you all to himself?”

he presses his thumb gently against your nipple beginning to make circle motions with it, “so pretty you are.”

your body molds against his, butt pressing against his hardness in his pants. a whine escapes your lips while you tilt your head upward, lips sucking on his collarbone.

Carlos chuckles to himself making your head snap in his direction. he’s leaned against the wall beside lando, “what’s funny?” you press, eyebrow’s furrowed together his laughter stops.

“nothing, just remembering an important detail.”

“which is?”

“how you sucked his dick in front of me. took like the good girl you are.”

your back straightens up, the hairs on your arms stand tall. how could such filth be spit out of his mouth? you must’ve been in such a euphoric state to forget sucking landos dick or Carlos eating you out. they seemed to enjoy sharing you more than you would’ve thought.

“so what do you two want from me?” you ask. the question comes back in full circle from the very first night you met them both. the night that seemed to change everything.

Carlos looks at lando with a devilish grin, lando mocks him before turning back to you, “you into foursomes?”

“you boys and your games,” you tsk them shaking your head. it doesn’t occur to you until you stop and think about what they’re asking that they are being serious. they aren’t smirking or laughing like it’s rather a funny hypothetical. it’s very much a real question.

“what do you have in mind?”

tags: @softtdaisy @oconso @xcicix @imsorare @weasleyswizardwheezes-blog @monzabee @lpab @frreyaa @motorsp0rt @lovelytsunoda @smoothopz @jaehyunluvcult @iloveyou3000morgan @lunnnix @leclerc13 @ophcelia

[bell4lan]

Sick Days

Genre: Fluff

DNI: NON-MLM/NBLM, fujoshis, mlm/nblm fetishizers

Side info: Sex is not specified so cis and trans men can read it. There is only one gender specific word (he) so if you are non-binary and are comfortable with it you can read it also :)

Character(s)/Reader: Neuvillette x Male Reader, mentioned Lyney and Wriothesley

Your eyes blinked open as your alarm clock rang loudly at your bedside, arm reaching over to turn it off. As you sat up to get ready for your day, you noticed something off about yourself. Your limbs felt sore, your throat ached, and, weirdly, the temperature of the room was so cold it felt as though you were in Snezhnaya. You quickly laid down again and bundled yourself up in your blankets, but it wasn't enough. Your body still shivered from how cold you felt.

Great. Of course you got severely sick on the day of your interview with Lyney that you worked so hard to get. You had wanted to write an exclusive on his newest trick and maybe even get some personal information on the mysterious magician, but that definitely wasn't happening now. You whined as you felt the pain in your limbs worsen as you tried to get comfortable, but it looked like that also wasn't happening either. The bedroom door creaked open as your husband peeked into the room.

"(Name)? Are you alright? You're normally up by now." He asked gently as he walked over to the side of the bed. He noticed the look of pain on your face and kneeled beside you, placing the back of his hand on your forehead.

"It seems you have a fever." He said as he cupped your cheek, trying to comfort you as he saw the sad look in your eyes.

"Today was supposed to be my big day. I'm supposed to interview Lyney I can't be sick today." You whispered to him with a frown. His eyes softened at your desperate tone, and he grabbed your hand to kiss it.

"I'm sorry, my love. I know how long you've been looking forward to this." He spoke, thumb rubbing the spot he kissed soothingly. Getting sick wasn't something that was new for you since you've always had a weak immune system, but that didn't mean it was something you were used to. Feeling so horribly was something you could never get used to. Luckily since Neuvillette was a strong and mighty dragon that meant he had a strong and mighty immune system, meaning he could take care of you. Although you hated feeling like such a burden to him, you loved that he was willing to care for you.

"I'm assuming from how bad your state is that you have a sore throat. Would you like some tea to help soothe it?" You gave him a nod in return because of how much pain you were in from speaking earlier, and watched as he left the room to get the tea. Neuvillette was practically an expert at making tea due the many times you've been sick. The first time he made it it was, to put it nicely, not that good. He had no clue how to make it since he preferred to drink water, but with the help of Wriothesley he learned to make delicious tea just for you.

A little later, your husband came in holding a tray with a teapot, a teacup, and some small snacks for you to have in case you were hungry. Once you sat up, he carefully extended the legs on it and placed it so it was hovering over your lap. He then poured you a cup of tea and added some items that would help soothe your throat before handing it to you. You took a sip and smiled as the liquid hit your tastebuds. You could barely taste anything due to how stuffed up your nose was, but you could taste the love and care that went into it. Yes it was a cheesy thing to think, but when it came to your husband these thoughts came naturally.

"Is it helping at all?" He asked as he watched you drink. You nodded again and picked up one of the snacks he prepared. Hesitantly, you ate it and thankfully did not puke due to your nausea.

Once you were finished, Neuvilette cleaned everything up and came back with some extra blankets. As he tucked you in, you looked at the clock and realized that he hadn't left for work yet. He was definitely going to be late if he kept tending to you.

"Neuvillette, don't you have work to do? You're going to be late." You said softly, not wanting to use your voice more than you needed to.

"I've cleared my schedule and will be staying home to take care of you. You should know by now that I will never leave you home alone when ill." He said, lightly scolding you for trying to make him go to work when you're sick. You smiled at him as he finished making you comfortable, and watched as he got into clothing that was more casual.

"Is there anything else I can get you?" He asked after putting on a shirt. You shook your head and watched as he started to walk out of the room. You panicked and yelped a wait, a sharp pain in your throat making you wince. He stopped and looked back at you, waiting for your request.

"Can you cuddle with me until I fall asleep?" You asked shyly. He smiled and walked over to the bed, getting underneath all of the blankets so you could cuddle him properly. He felt your arms wrap around him and he did the same to you, holding you against him protectively. His hands ran through your hair as you rested against him, humming gently as you hugged him tighter.

Eventually you fell asleep cuddled up in his arms. Neuvillette watched as you slept peacefully against him, smiling to himself because of how adorable you looked.

He hated seeing you in pain from how sick you get, but part of him loved moments like these. Moments where he could provide for you. He loved cooking for you, making you tea, making you comfortable in bed. He loved doing things for you, and when you were sick you never rejected his acts of service. Neuvillette knew you thought of yourself as a burden whenever you got sick, but he was always overjoyed to be able to care for you.

Maybe one day you will let him service you when you're healthy, though he doubts that'll happen anytime soon. Looks like he'll just have to service you as much as he can while you're still sick.

'Perhaps I could get him some flowers?'

---------------------------------------------------

Needed to make some Neuvillette fluff because he makes me swoon. He's so cute 😭

I hope you guys enjoy! Sorry if there are any errors, I only reread once because I am too lazy to reread it again

[celestoria]

haiii could i request 8, 24 & 6 with ayato for the event? congratulations on your milestone!

Tags: dumbification, dacryphillia, thigh riding, CEO!ayato x idol!reader

Do not interact if you are 17 or below (17+)

Ayato was never the type to be fond of going to lively parties but mustered up the energy to go to one knowing how much this party meant for his colleagues while saying his attendance as professionally going for unprofessional manners. He would often find himself making his way to his car since he wanted to leave as soon as possible, knowing he has to go back to work early in the morning since, naturally, a company needs its CEO. Until you bumped into him by the patio.

Was it wrong for Ayato to ditch the exclusive pool party for the rich and famous hosted by one of his closest business partners to fuck you in one of their guest bedrooms? Truth be told, he couldn’t care less.

The heavy bass music of the club boomed through the brick walls of a private room as you two made out. Your nude body perched up on Ayato’s bare lap as he sucked on your breasts and your hands loosely clasped on his broad shoulders to keep yourself balanced on him.

A giggle escaped him, his lips forming a smile while pulling away from your body. Not only are you such an obedient girl who could stay still for him, but your moans are so insatiable that he’d prefer hearing them over and over again rather than engage in pointless conversations with other celebrities.

Anticipation rushed through you as you craved for his touch. Your empty cunt clenched on itself, desperate for him to just make a move on you rather than sitting there and teasing you.

“You want me to just ravage that body of yours, hm?” he hummed as if he was reading your mind. “All right then. Show me that you deserved it,” he said once you gave a nod and his hands glided down to your waist.

You blushed, uncertain about what you want to do just to make him as needy as you are for him. Soon after, everything became clear with what he wanted you to do—the slit of your cunt perfectly aligned with the curve of his thigh alongside his tight hold on your body.

A pair of puffed-up lips latched on to kiss him, leading your taste to mix in with his as your tongues swirled. Your body rocked on his thigh brushing your clit hard enough to make your mewl, but not enough to make you cum. Ayato relished every moment you sigh his name whenever you pull apart, seducing him to just give you what you want then and there.

Since when did he get so weak? Easily giving up just to get a bit of friction as he flips you over. The duvet sheets surround you with their fluff while Ayato towered over your body, fumbling with the string of his boxers just to get it off him.

“I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into, my dear,” he grunts, probing his hardened dick into your entrance. “Ugh-, cuz we aren’t stopping until you’re sick of me.”

Ayato was a man of his word, and he had no intention of backing out right when there was so much lust pent up in him. Orgasm after orgasm, he never fails to make you think that you were going to break if he doesn’t stop. His movements only got harsher and rougher whenever you started another round of mercilessly ramming you.

You panted out his name over and over again as glitter-stained tears rolled down your cheeks leaving a trail that makes your face glow even more. Words falter whenever you try to articulate your thoughts. Sweat coated your tired body and the rubbing sensation inside you turned into pleasurable pain.

His back, red from your nails scratching and digging into him, began to get sore due to his debaucherous greed. To think of a woman he just met made him feel ways he swore he has never felt before. Either you’re a temptress with a voice of an angel, or he’s simply enchanted by your charm, Ayato refuses to let you go.

Your leg, visibly trembling, hooked over his shoulder as your hips kept on colliding. Despite begging for a break, the way he hits your spots perfectly felt so addictive. You were unsure if you could leave that party like nothing happened and you know you’d be sore once the morning comes, however, that mattered very little for you when every time your back arches while fireworks explode in your core

“Just a little more,” Ayato said, his moves beginning to be a little more sluggish as he trades speed for depth to make sure he’s filling you up with his dick as much as he can before he passes out.

Never feeling this raw since tonight, your body spasmed as an overwhelming sensation of bliss peaked in you before you were left trembling when Ayato pumped his length in you one last time. His body collapsed on top of you, and his flushed face buried in your chest as he breathed in your scent. Your walls still continued to squeezed around him due to his refusal to move after all that has happened within the four walls that surround you.

Ayato notices you are starting to fall asleep due to fatigue. He laughed to himself. Did he go that far, huh? It didn’t matter. The night was young and the event was far from over.

He pulls out his dick, twitching from being highly sensitive. “Get all the rest you’ll need,” he said, tucking you in to get a decent amount of sleep. “You can ensure that I will be here right by your side when the party is going to end and I’ll personally accompany you back to where you live.”

The party continued without the host’s most honored guest and their most famous invitee present by the pool, but he knew the two of you had the most fun out of all.

[chubs-deuce]

With your Chalastor with child AU (I think?), I have a few questions. How did Vox react to Alastor having a child? What do the other overlords think of Alastor being a father? Who is Dawn's god parents (if something happens to Charlie or Alastor or both)?

hi! :D the response here got a bit long so I put it under the cut woops

I'm not 100% sure tbh, but I like to think he had to reboot pretty hard, was then hella in disbelief and denial, then later decides he has to one-up Alastor and tries to find some unlucky brat to take under his wing as an adopted child :'D

Velvette and Alastor are actually friends to some degree, they meet once or twice a month for tea and gossip. Velvette thinks him having a kid is fucking weird and she doesn't like kids, but you bet she insists on being allowed some exclusive rights to design clothes for her when she's older as a form of hush-money for not spreading the news like wildfire immediately. She won't keep Vox from doing so (that's his business then), but she won't snitch either. Valentino couldn't care less unless it infringes on his business in some way :'D Zestial I think would be curious about the circumstances but wouldn't prod impolitely. Carmilla is first shocked, then confused. She half suspected he kidnapped the kid or that it's a trick of some kind, but soon enough changes from confused to concerned because overlord meetings are no place for a child like that and generally keeps judging the shit out of his parenting choices :'D. So she's kind of second-hand mothering I guess? Zeezi (I assume that's her name? We lack confirmation from the show) fucking loves the little stinker, mainly bc Dawn looks at her like she hung the moon and stars in the sky for a long time. Dawn loves any kind of animal that is big and has sharp teeth, so Zeezi's appearance fits that pattern perfectly lmao. She doesn't care for Alastor in any particular way, so she doesn't pay a lot of attention to his role as a father so much as the kid being an adorable little gremline. Rosie I've gone into before in a different post, but to summarize: she adores Dawn right away and ends up providing a lot of other things too like diapers and pacifiers etc. She does give Al a hard time over doing it all backwards, since he had a child with someone and didn't put a ring on her first.

I'm ngl I never had godparents of any kind myself so they were kind of a big mystery to me in terms of what the fuck that even meant, so I haven't put any thought into that concept applied to my AU either woops I guess it'd make sense for each parent to pick one? In which case I think the obvious choices would be Rosie and Lucifer? I'm half toying with the idea of Charlie picking Vaggie too, but I'm not sure where their mutual trust is at by the point such a thing would be discussed >_>

[olderthannetfic]

I know about the origins of the Bechdel Test, but I do think it's inaccurate to say it's not meant as a criticism of movies that don't do that. I think that when people stop thinking in binary terms of "is this feminist?" or "is this anti-feminist?" and instead look at things more holistically, that you can recognize both that a character like Mako Mori is great, a step in the right direction for female characters in action movies and especially WOC, go forth and stan her and write all the fanfic you want.... but yeah, it is also a valid criticism of the movie (and many others like it) that she doesn't talk to or have relationships with any other woman in the film.

I think one thing to help people realize just HOW much of women's lives are being left out of media representation when we never talk to other named women about something other than a man in movies, is to just think about your own life. I talk to my mom every day, and if we are not talking about my stepdad or my brother-in-law (and I don't think we've ever had a conversation that wasn't at least IN PART not about them or another man), then it passes the test. I'm a professor and when I talk to a female student about her homework or project (which is, again, something that happens pretty much every day I teach), that's passing the test. If I order food from a female cashier and she has a name tag, that's passing the Bechdel Test! It's literally just constant for the vast majority of women on the planet, and that's what's being left out of our stories.

Like, I like the takes I've seen about how part of the joke in Dykes to Watch Out For is that this is *particularly* alienating to lesbians - as a lesbian myself I agree - but I also think it should be frustrating to straight and bi and ace women as well, because like unless you are like exclusively interacting with your husband or male relatives every single day + you work in a workplace where you are literally the only woman, you are almost certainly passing the test constantly. That's a pretty big part of women's lives that Hollywood is leaving out!

But I think it's important to view it as just one piece of the discussion about feminism and women's representation in film, not the final judge on if a film is feminist or not. Which it wasn't intended to be - as you said, it was mostly a joke on the extreme maleness of 80s action movies. Honestly, I do not miss those days on Tumblr where people were obsessed with declaring certain movies/TV shows/other fandoms they liked as "feminist" or "anti-feminist" and the really bizarre granular discussions people would have between two works that BOTH had a long way to go in terms of representing women. I remember people in the Fullmetal Alchemist fandom would use this to argue about if the original anime or Brotherhood/the manga was better - when both have some fantastic female supporting characters, but are ultimately male-centered stories where even a lot of those women's lives and stories are centered around their male love interests and family members. It's better than a lot of shounen, but if that's your bar for feminism - either version - you have a long way to go (and need to watch WAY more anime because there's sooooo much of it that is female-centric). I also remember people coming up with other tests that were blatantly silly: like I thought the Mako Mori test about "if a woman has a motivation/story that isn't centered on a man" was fair because it did point out a legitimate criticism, but there was that ridiculous "Tauriel Test" where it was "a woman who is good at her job." And it was entirely about someone just disliking that movie critics and feminist commentators alike were down on the Hobbit movie trilogy, which a) were bad movies, sorry you have bad taste, b) are absolutely not where you should focus your attention if you're so concerned about women's representation in film, Tolkein has always been a sausage fest! And her big thing was being mad that people thought Judi Dench's M in Skyfall was a better female character, and so she arbitrarily decided she was "bad at her job" and Tauriel was "good at her job" even though that's completely subjective and can be challenged in both cases.... but also, once again, why are you looking to the fucking JAMES BOND franchise for movie feminism! There's nothing like comparing the relative "feminism levels" of JAMES BOND and LOTR to make it obvious that this is 100% about validating your subjective taste preferences by giving it a "progressive" excuse, not actually about feminism and not actually caring about women's representation beyond how it makes you look good. And yet SO many people took that transparently stupid post seriously. I'd see professional articles mention the Tauriel Test as "one of the new tests" like there was anything serious about it.

And then on the flip side, over-reliance on the Bechdel Test alone led to some clueless conclusions especially in anime fandom, given that anime has an abundance of shows that exclusively feature female characters in school clubs being cute, where those characters are nonetheless two-dimensional archetypes designed for the male gaze. Someone like fandomsandfeminism did a presentation at an anime con that called one of those types of shows "feminist" and some Japanese user eviscerated it, but that just led to the equally shallow fandom analysis of "everything a Japanese person says about anime is automatically more valid" and "any Westerner who wants to criticize anime on feminist/progressive grounds is culturally appropriating and ultimately coming from a place of ignorance, even if they literally have a degree in Asian studies."

Wow, this turned into a rant about the history of bad "feminist media criticism" on this website. Sorry about that, I think I had a point in here somewhere. I guess that the Bechdel Test is indeed a joke and those origins should be understood, but also, I don't think it's wrong to say that it identifies a real problem and one that people could probably take MORE seriously than they do - but as just one part of the conversation, not the Feminism Litmus Test, and certainly not as a dick-measuring contest about whose fandom gets them more progressive brownie points.

--

I think as long as we grasp that the joke is "The bar is so far under the ground that we might as well go home and eat popcorn there", it's fine.

The real issue with the test is that people started thinking a pass was meaningful.

If you say something like "X% of 2020s movies can't even manage this weaksauce level of women existing", that's a meaningful statistic. Even if you got a couple of data points wrong, you're not factually wrong enough for it to matter because X is going to be some massive, massive percentage, and the overall trend is so clear.

But a pass is nothing to celebrate, and that's where we went wrong.

Like you say, litigating which of two big franchises that barely do anything with women wins on tumblr points is idiocy.

I think people are so unaware of what media that genuinely centers women even looks like that it's hard for them to even begin having a discussion.

I personally have been a massive fujoshi type from adolescence, and media that centers female characters isn't actually what I typically want. (Though media that is by and for women and that doesn't give a fuck what men think of this is.) I am also not much of a fan of slice of life in general...

But when I was coming out and figuring my shit out, being able to go buy collections of Dykes to Watch Out For was incredibly valuable to me.

Ditto the other lesbian comic books that were just sitting there in the bookstore. I'm sure if I went back and reread them all now, I could find things to nitpick or ways they were more for lesbians and less for me as a bi girl, but the really distinctive thing they did was let me exist in a world where media isn't all 80s sausagefest action movies where women are not people.

In fact, they were a world where men don't matter terribly much—not because they're dramatically rejecting men in some facile and reactionary way but because... who cares? They just had other priorities... and this was normal.

It feels like people who've never taken a vacation from really mainstream media just have no concept of what it would feel like to exist in some other space.

And I think that's a pity even if, like me, they later choose to go read mostly BL later instead of focusing on female characters or they genuinely love trash 80s action movies despite everything wrong with them. It's not just sexist media that's the issue: it's that feeling like the fish can't see the water it's swimming in.

[maxdurden]

i'm a waste of a woman, but i taste like success

read it on ao3 here!

Story: i'm a waste of a woman, but i taste like success

Chapter: 1/1

Characters: Kipperlilly Copperkettle, Lucy Frostblade, Ruben Hopclap, Mary Ann Skuttle, Ivy Embra, Oisin Hakinvar

Summary:

Kipperlilly Copperkettle has never been great with people. She's worse with friends. Forming an adventuring party is like making friends, but with greater stakes and far less time to consider your options. But, it's also a kind of friend making that has structure. And Kipperlilly can work with structure. -- Inspired by these comments by Brennan Lee Mulligan about Kipperlilly and the formation of the High Five Heroes: "There's an indication there of Kipperlilly's focus because yeah, the High-Five Heroes is sweet, but it's also sort of a indication that Kipperlilly is pushing them towards, for lack of a better word, do we have something that we're about? The Bad Kids get their name because they've all been given detention on the first day and it's connected to their story. Whereas you get the sense from the High-Five Heroes that it's not actually describing anything. It's like the person being like, "Our inside joke is going to be high-fives." And you're like, "Well, everyone high-fives." So there's an indication there, for me at least, that Kipperlily is trying to make a comradery right away that is not actually there. It's not based in something that happened to them."

The lunchroom of the Aguefort Adventuring Academy was bustling with excited freshmen. Students shouted across the large space to friends they recognized, throngs of already-formed cliques chittered with exclusive excitement, and groupings of sorcerers and bards scoped out potential parties that still needed their skill sets. Technically, the formation of adventuring parties wasn’t meant to begin until after lunch, but it was immediately clear that those who waited were most likely to be left out. 

A group of kids who clearly all fit the stoner archetype had already gathered around a table, swapping bags of chips and chatting eagerly about systems of control. A few kids hung nervously around the edges of the cafeteria, some on their crystals and others fidgeting nervously as they watched the ruthless game of high school socialization play out in front of them. 

There were a few tables with lone freshmen, either texting friends or digging into their food with little care for the scarcity of resources that were friends and party members. Kipperlilly was one such student, but she had her eyes on the prize. She unwrapped the lunch she had carefully packed for herself, and laid out her bullet journal to review her color coded notes while she waited for Lucy. 

She hadn’t discussed the plan explicitly with her best friend before their first day—and there was nothing Kipperlilly hated more than not having a plan nailed down—but she had faith in Lucy. She would know that they belonged in a party together, naturally. From there, it would just be a matter of constructing the perfect party around them. That would hardly be a challenge when she’d been planning this out for months. She knew exactly the kinds of party members they would need, and had started her scouting early.

A powerful wizard could make or break a party, and Oisin Hakinvar was a perfect candidate. He had gone with them to Oakshield Middle, though they’d never spoken before. Once, in seventh grade, Kipperlilly had watched him give a presentation on his proud dragon heritage—the exact kind of thing that made a great adventurer.

She had a few ideas for fighters and barbarians, but she’d already watched Nixie Humphries, a human fighter she’d had her eye on, and Fog Marrowthirst, a transfer half-orc barbarian, get snatched up by other adventuring parties. She carefully marked them from her list, bouncing her leg impatiently under the table. She looked up from her notes and craned her neck to look for Lucy when a small, kobold girl with an ax strapped to her back sat down at the table several seats away. 

Kipperlilly’s grip tightened on her red pen, but she breathed out slowly through her nose just like the counselor at Oakshield had always suggested she try. Things were not going according to plan, but that didn’t mean all hope was lost. 

“I’m saving these seats for my friends, actually.” She flashed an approximation of a friendly smile across the table.

The kobold girl didn’t look up from her device—It wasn’t a crystal, but some kind of childish looking handheld game. Without taking her eyes off of it, the girl reached around to grab a soda out of the pocket of her backpack.

Kipperlilly cleared her throat. “Excuse me?” She said, a bit louder. “I’m waiting for my friends to sit here with me.” 

Her future friends, that was. Her adventuring party that she would save the world with time and again. For now, they’d just be getting to know each other, but why waste time with half measures? Their lives would be in each other’s hands. They would share in their glory for the rest of their careers. They would be friends, closer than they could imagine eventually. Calling them anything other than friends felt like a slight against that eventual bond. 

It was like the kobold girl wasn’t hearing her at all. Kipperlilly set down her red pen and stood—

“Kip!” Lucy called as she approached. She was dressed in one of her favorite cable knit sweaters, one that she’d only recently reclaimed from Kipperlilly’s theft, and was carrying her tray of creamed corn and cafeteria food. 

Keeping pace next to her was Ruben Hopclap. He was wearing cargo shorts and flip flops, smiling in a way that Kipperlilly could only interpret as smug. 

“Sorry, Ruben and I got held up in the lunch line,” Lucy slid into the seat across from her. She knew Kipperlilly well enough to know that she was brimming with impatience before more than a word had passed between them. “You want to be in our adventuring party, right? I’m so excited!” 

Our adventuring party. As in, Lucy and Ruben’s adventuring party. Heat rose to Kipperlilly’s face. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go at all. It was meant to be our party as in, her and Lucy’s party. Lucy was meant to come find her first. Lunch line or no, why had she sought out Ruben first? 

Hot, angry tears closed up the back of her throat but before they could start to prick at her eyes, Kipperlilly inhaled sharply through her nose. Steadily and slowly inwards, hold, then breathe out at the same pace. She dug her fingernails into her palm under the table for good measure. 

“Yeah, of course.” Now wasn’t the time to pick a fight, even if she’d picked fights over less before. She had to keep her eye on the goal. “Just, forget my plan, I guess.” She muttered, unable to help herself, and marked a large, red ‘x’ over the names of potential bard candidates for their party. Ruben’s name hadn’t been listed there. 

She should have discussed this all with Lucy beforehand. She knew it.

Lucy’s brows pinched together in concern and Ruben huffed out an incredulous breath. They were both familiar with her moods.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you had a plan.” Lucy reached across the table tentatively, resting a cold hand on Kipperlilly’s. “Can I see the rest? I’m sure you’ve got good ideas.” 

Always patient. It wasn’t fair. Sometimes, Kipperlilly could manage to goad Lucy into a fight but it was a vanishingly rare thing the older they got. Something about it made the molten rock in her chest feel heavier. 

“Yeah, I had some ideas for who we could ask.” She said, reminding herself that self-pity needed to take a back seat to accomplishing her goal. She’d worked hard to convince her parents to let her attend Aguefort. She’d created a comprehensive, data-backed presentation about the benefits this school could offer that Mumple couldn’t in the first semester of her eighth grade year. A vital part of proving herself right was forming the ideal party. As much as she might have liked to sulk until Lucy had no choice but to admit that she’d been wrong for not seeking her out first, now wasn’t the time.

“Great!” Lucy smiled, pulling the bullet journal toward herself. 

Her eyes were such a deep blue that it was hard to tell their color in some lighting, but under the fluorescent cafeteria lights they were easy to see as she turned her careful attention to the pages in front of her. Her focus was always steady and intentional. At sleepovers and study groups, Kipperlilly would often get distracted just watching her read. 

“Why are these names crossed out?” She asked, pointing with a long finger to Fog and Nixie’s names. 

“They already have a party.”

The corners of Lucy’s lips crept upwards in a soft, amused smile. She looked up from the list and carefully scanned the cafeteria before her eyes landed on the kobold girl sitting only a few seats away.

“Oh, I’m sorry for ignoring you,” She said, “I’m Lucy Frostblade, what’s your name?” 

The girl still didn’t look up from her game. Watching Lucy get rebuffed was almost enough to make Kipperlilly properly lose her cool, but Ruben suddenly leaned forward to get a better look.

“Is that a Quokki Pet?” He asked. 

Finally, the girl’s head rose. She regarded Ruben with mild interest. “Do you play?”

“I used to have one in middle school, but a teacher took it. My parents wouldn’t buy me a new one.” Now that he mentioned it, Kipperlilly remembered the small handheld game Ruben had clung to for a few months in seventh grade. 

He’d been caught checking it during math class and it was confiscated by Mrs. Nikothoe, who even Kipperlilly had to admit was a nightmare of a woman. While she probably couldn’t be blamed for taking away a distraction from a student, she hadn’t even liked Kipperlilly despite all her efforts. So for once she and Ruben had come down on the same side of an issue. It had been a refreshing change of pace, even if it had only lasted an afternoon. 

“Lame.” The girl responded shortly and her attention started to turn back toward her game. 

Lucy was quick on the draw, though, “You have an ax! Are you a barbarian?” 

“Yes.” Mary Ann seemed slightly bothered by the continued distraction, but humored them for now.

Kipperlilly could see where this was going and very much didn’t like it. She tried to signal Lucy to stop, tapping on the bullet journal that was still in front of her. Sure, her first choices were off the table but there had to be better choices than this girl.

“We’re looking for a barbarian for our party. Do you want to join?” 

The kobold girl looked between the three of them for a moment. Kipperlilly stared back and tried to imagine her going into a rage—tried to imagine what good a two foot tall barbarian could possibly be. She just prayed that they’d be rejected.

“Sure.” No such luck. “I’m Mary Ann.” And with that, her attention was back on that stupid Quokki game. 

“I’m Ruben!” 

“Didn’t ask.”

Kipperlilly was staring at Lucy in disbelief when their eyes met again. What was she thinking? This was a disaster. “We need to find Oisin Hakinvar.” She said, gathering up her things. There was no time to waste. She couldn’t possibly let this go any worse than it already had. 

“Oisin? From Oakshield?” Lucy asked.

“I haven’t finished my creamed corn!” Ruben complained through a mouth full of the stuff. Kipperlilly shot him a dangerous glare. He did not want to get in her way right now.

Lucy rushed to catch up with Kipperlilly as she shoved her things in her bag and made a beeline out of the cafeteria. Oisin may very well have already been out on the quad, where there was an even more concentrated focus on forming parties. It might have been too late. 

“Kip, calm down,” Lucy insisted as they pushed through the front doors of the school together. Ruben and Mary Ann trailed somewhere behind them, the latter with her nose still stuck in her game. “It’ll all work out. There’s no rush.” 

But that just wasn’t true. Kipperlilly didn’t have time to argue the point. Stepping onto the school’s quad, she took careful stock of everyone there. Some girls had gathered around one of the many statues of Arthur Aguefort and were giggling to themselves. A few students had gathered around to watch an elven boy show off his magical prowess. Kipperlilly had to dash through his prestidigitation sparks when she spotted a blue, scaly head behind the base of a nearby statue. 

Lucy followed after her, apologizing to the elf as she passed. Kipperlilly came to stand in front of Oisin Hakinvar. He was sitting at the base of a statue, eating his lunch with a vaguely familiar wood elf girl. If he had a party already, they were nowhere to be seen. He looked up from his food, pushing up his glasses and frowning thoughtfully at the halfling in front of him.

“Can I help you with something?” He asked.

“Yes,” As she spoke, Lucy and the others caught up behind her. “I’m Kipperlilly Copperkettle. We went to middle school together. I’d like you to be the wizard in our adventuring party.” 

“I’m Lucy Frostblade,” Lucy jumped in when Oisin’s hesitation dragged on for a beat too long. “We had history class together last year. I know this is kind of a lot, but you’re really impressive! And we’ve got enough room still for you to join, too, Ivy. Are you a ranger?”

The wood elf girl, Ivy—Kipperlilly noted the shortcomings in her research that she didn’t realize Oisin had someone he wouldn’t join a party without—regarded Lucy with a carefully controlled expression. “Yeah, I am.”

“That’s perfect! I don’t think any of us here are super well versed in the natural world, so you’d be a great help.” Lucy offered a friendly smile, a real one, and Ivy and Oisin exchanged glances. 

“Okay, so you all want us, but why should we want to join you?” He asked after a moment. 

He was considering it. This was good. Kipperlilly could work with this. “We’re impressive in our own right! I’m a rogue, and one day I’ll be the greatest mastermind Spyre has ever seen. I was in student government in middle school; I was the president of four clubs, and the creator of two of those. I’ve never gotten a grade worse than a B in my life. If you stick with me, you don’t have to worry about failing.” And I’d be the perfect leader, was what she didn't say. “And Lucy is a prodigious cleric of Ruvina. She’s worked some serious miracles—”

“I’ll keep you alive.” Lucy interrupted sheepishly. She wasn’t one for bragging, even if Kipperlilly thought she should have been. “That’s what you really want to hear from a cleric, isn’t it? And this is Ruben, he’s a bard and a genuinely talented musician.”

Ruben flashed a proud grin. “I’ve already figured out how to cast healing word, so you doubly won’t die if you stick with us.” He had no problem bragging.

“And this is Mary Ann, we just met but—”

Mary Ann pulled her ax from her back with the hand that wasn’t holding her game. She dropped it into the soft ground with a satisfying thud. “I’m a barbarian.” 

“She’s a barbarian.” Lucy repeated with a grin. 

“Nice elevator pitch. Did you practice it?” Ivy asked, and Kipperlilly honestly couldn’t say if she was intentionally being snarky or not. 

“Doubly not dying is a pretty tempting offer,” Oisin admitted. “One of my friends in middle school was a worshiper of Ruvina,” he addressed Lucy directly, “Pretty cool stuff—No pun intended.” 

Lucy laughed, “Pun appreciated, intentional or not. So, what do you say?”

Again, Oisin and Ivy exchanged some kind of silent communication—Kipperlilly wondered if it was a message spell, or if they really did just have a knack for understanding one another—before either of them spoke. 

“Sounds like a plan. Makes it easier that you guys already have all the other members figured out, too.” 

Ivy joining the team hadn’t been the plan, either. But Lucy was right that a ranger would be helpful and, even if she seemed mean, she had to be better than Ruben or Mary Ann. A small weight lifted off Kipperlilly’s shoulders as she realized she’d succeeded, at least in her first goal of the day. 

She grinned, mostly because she was relieved that this was done, and quickly held up her hand for Lucy to high five. She owed her shared credit, especially for winning Oisin over, even if the improvisation with Mary Ann had been unwelcome.

With a satisfying smack, their hands collided, and Kipperlilly carried on down the line. Ruben seemed confused, but returned her high five nonetheless. Ivy and Oisin seemed equally amused by the offer, but played along. Mary Ann, who was focused entirely on her game, didn’t even look up to see Kipperlilly’s hand hovering in front of her. Kipperlilly paused, and waited, but felt the awkward tension growing the longer she did, and eventually dropped her hand. 

“Look at that! We can call ourselves the High-Five Heroes!” She chimed, trying to power through the way Mary Ann’s snub had robbed her of some of her momentum. She’d prepared for this moment, planned out the name.

It had to land. 

Kipperlilly had never been great with making friends in the past. Lucy was her best friend mostly because Lucy was a wonderful presence and brought joy and light to her life, but there was certainly an element of the fact that Lucy was her only friend, too. Adventuring parties were all best friends. They were bound by blood and trauma and life debts. This was the perfect opportunity for her to finally get things right. And she intended to; She had meticulously planned exactly how she would.

An awkward silence fell over the group. Ivy looked at Oisin with raised eyebrows and Kipperlilly tried desperately to read into the expression. Maybe awkward was the wrong word, maybe it was awed? She fidgeted aimlessly with her hands, feeling the way sweat collected on her palms. 

“Everybody high fives.” Ruben scoffed and Kipperlilly felt her heart drop. This was exactly why he couldn’t be here. He was going to ruin it all, and just to piss her off. 

She silently worked her jaw for a moment, trying to grind out any combination of words that would salvage this.

“I think it’s cool!” Lucy came to her rescue, as always. “We’re going to be heroes!”

It seemed that, at the very least, that was a sentiment they could all get behind. Her suggestion might not have been met with the enthusiasm she’d prefer, but Kipperlilly relished her accomplishment as each member of the group signaled their approval. The High Five Heroes weren’t only going to be heroes, they wouldn’t just be friends—they’d be great. She could feel it.

[tansyuduri]

Merlin Loregasm Rewatch S1E4

Hi Everyone! Welcome to my rewatch of Merlin focusing on the lore. I am a giant nerd so pretty excited about this. We're on THE POISONED CHALICE

OKAY so @catsconflictscopicsandchamomile our resident Old English expert explained to me something really interesting. the spell used by Nimueh draws its power from the Spear-Danes, the semi pagan culture featured in Beowulf (Who had their own lake lady in Grendel's mother who was likely a priestess of the old religion And linguisticly called Disir) There is more though The first lines of the spell also seem to be Nimue saying she owes her magic to the spear Danes (that Grendel the monster in Beowolf ate) At this point I'm wondering if its meant to establish she is saying HEY MY SPELLS ARE PAGEN This will not be the only Beowulf reference in this episode. (Its never referenced or quoted after this episode) I'm wondering if the translators threw this in as a joke or easter egg Or in my freind's words "fuck it. lets canonize Beowulf in this universe real fast" (Okay I just discovered one of their choices I'll talk about later and HOLY FREAKING SHIT)

Mercia is traditionally thought of as a kingdom formed during the anglo-saxon settlement of Britain (Which occurs post Merlin acoirding to Merlin having saxons of enemies in later seasons) The historic king Arthur if he existed was said to have fought against the anglo saxons but this is just a footnote as we are focusing on Merlin Universe) HOWEVER a 13th century text says "“Pagans came from Germany and occupied East Anglia, that is, the country of the East Angles; and some of them invaded Mercia, and waged war against the British.” 

British here being Original pre-saxon inhabitents. SO it is possible that a Mercia existed before The Anglo-Saxons. This could also be the Historian using the name he knows. Bayard is not a recorded later King of Mercia either so good choice in name if we want him to be a Britonic king from a Mercia founded before the Anglo-Saxons apear. Fun fact Mercia also resisted leaving paganism longer than any other Anglo-Saxon kingdom! BUT Anyway in Merlin Mercia is a thing, Its ruled by Bayard, and its color is blue. It would be in the midlands of England most likely.

Also he was at war with Camalot, but now is not. I wonder if that has to do with Uther having not inherited but taking over the kingdom! Uther: The treaty we sign today marks an end to war and the beginning of a new friendship between our peoples

I also think Uther as a peacemaker is interesting, especially as we see this more than once. It might be why some people view him as "A good king."

So this at first glance SEEMS like it hints more toward paganism. Beltane is a Gaelic May Day festival. But its renamed version May Day was not exactly Christianized. See most other big Gaelic festivals (usually religious) Were kinda taken over by Christianity when it came. Yule became Christmas Samhain became All Saints Day (All Hollows Eve) ETC. Beltane was also celebrated in some places ALONG with Christianity until the 1800s. (Scotland did this specifically) In modern times Beltane is VERY Pagan. And it is very possible this hints further toward the Camalot is pagan or just nonreligious side of the entire debate. (Despite people using words like god or hell.) But it's not quite as conclusive as many other type of references would be.

(For context despite it saying we've Arthur here is talking about Merlin, who just announced his cup was poisoned, exclusively which is interesting!) See slow gin is a type of alcohol made with juniper berries and blackthorn fruits. It was traditionally brewed (With a lot of home brewing) in October and November and used as a warming drink in the depths of winter. AS you can tell this episode does not take place in winter. I think there are two possibilities for Arthur picking this drink specifically to mention despite that. The first is that as a prince perhaps the drink is available to him year round if he wants it and he doesn't know that is not true of most people yet. The second is he is so panicked at the prospect of the trouble Merlin is in his mind latched on to the first drink that popped into it.

Okay, so Mort means death in Latin. And the ending suffix here Usually makes the word an adjective from proper or place names BUT often appears in flower naming. So basically this plant is named The "Death Flower" Flower or "Capital D Deathly" Flower

Gaius: it can only be found in the caves deep beneeth the forest of Baloch The flower grows on the roots of the Mortaeus tree.

Uh okay. THERE IS SOME SHIT GOING DOWN with this plant. First of all, flowers growing from the roots of a tree is just weird. flowers are basically there to attract things to pollinate a plant usualy. If a tree has flowers they do not grow from the roots. Second of all its kinda weird for flowers or trees to grow in DEEP caves. Sunlight cannot read them there. I would give it a pass if it did not say deep because if there were cracks in the ceiling of the cave that could put light though. It does kinda explain why they can ONLY be found there though. If its so odd and specialized it might be the only place it can grow.

This flower is either innately magical in some odd way or does not conform to evolution. So at this point I am pretty sure it was bred/engineered/magiced into being but some sorcerer. Likely specifically for poisoning people. and that person wanted to limit the people who knew of it and thus kept it in once set of caves. BUT SOMHOW news got out about it. Ok so I also looked up Baloch. In Welsh it can mean dig or sorry. In Irish it means boy and in scottish the same thing. So no info to be gleaned from that

Gauis: A cockatrice-- it guards the forest. Its venom is extremely potent, a single drop would mean certain death. OK first of all I'm doubling down on there being some past sorcerer, Because they were FOR SURE using these as guard dogs. Second of all I LOVE Merlin paying fast and loose with magical creatures from folklore because I can too in my fics A Cockatrice in folklore was a monster created when a toad or snake egg was hatched beneath a chicken. It could kill with a look, or a breath, or a touch, and was basically a two-legged dragonish creature with a rooster head. In the Merlin world it is very diferant. We'll see one soon! "Few who have crossed the mountains of Isgard in search of the Moraeus flower have made it back alive." Yeah can't find any meaning behind the name Isgard! BUT HAVE I MENTIONED I THINK A SORCER ONCE LIVED IN THE CAVES/FOREST.

Okay I think this is a reference to the actual historical job of taster. Basically important people (ESP royalty) would hire someone to taste all their food before thay ate it. That way if it was poisoned the taster would die instead of them. It was viewed as a pretty plum gig because poisoning didn't often happen (ESP if people knew there was a taster) and the taster got to eat REALLY good food and get paid for it. I think its also an interesting character detail that while this kinda implies that Uther might have someone (At least for his private food and not banquets) We see multiple times that Arthur in fact does NOT. It is quite possible he managed to put his foot down and get out of this somehow because he believes it to be wrong. Which not gonna lie is a very Arthur thing to do.

(Context: Arthur talking about how Gaius said they can save Merlin if they get the leaf so it is not a fools errand) Waiiit is this trying to imply that Gaius was the one who brought up the idea that one could use the old religion to give Uther a son? I mean we knew he was the messenger. but HOLY SHIT. And if that is true, Uther somhow forgave him? Why would Uther forgive him? The only thing I can think is if Gaius talked about how magic had tricked him and gave Uther something else to blame. This is all conjecture though. Uther could be referring on how Gaius is close to Merlin or something else. It just feels like it might be a nod at what all went down around Arthur's birth.

Okay so this is Merlin quoting Beowolf here. A Poem that is yet to be written down but might have had some oral tradition and actually takes place at the traditional time Arthur is said to have lived. Merlin is basically talking about how Arthur/Beowolf is endowed with honnor. This happens right after Arthur decides to ride out to save Merlin.

Magic Rule Established: Potions/Poisons can be more potent if magic is used in their preperation

Okay MORE Beowolf

Merlin says Arthurs name then basically talks about a young man doing good deeds.

Playing hard and fast as I said. LOOK Dinosaur!

Okay so more Beowolf At this point I am 99.99% sure the people hired to write the spells at the time where having the time of their life. Let me explain

This line talks about gifts of treasure (the light) he conjuress to help Arthur. Fine. BUT then it mentions Arthur being under his father's protection. Expect Merlinto protectg him. The spell writers used a freaking old english poem to let Merlin call himself Arthur's "daddy" I am not sure what I am expected to do with this knowledge. (It might have been chosen so they could use the next line of the spell but THEY DID NOT HAVE TO DO THIS) The next line (Which is actually also the next line in the poem) says something about how so that when Arthur is older his companions can stand with him when war comes.

Okay so yeah turns out there is no tree or roots. I'm chalking this up to he said she said. STILL GOING WITH THE SORCERER.

OKAY so it a potion is made using magic the antidote may ALSO need magic

Oh look our first hint Merlin is immortal. I find his brand of immortality intersting. HE CAN DIE he just comes back after a bit.

[y-rhywbeth2]

Gods & Clergy: Jergal

Link: Disclaimer regarding D&D "canon" & Other lore dumps Overview | Shar | Selûne | Bhaal | Mystra | Jergal | Bane | Myrkul | Lathander | Kelemvor | Tyr | Helm | Ilmater | Mielikki | Oghma | Gond | Tempus | Silvanus | Talos | Umberlee | Corellon | Moradin | Yondalla | Garl Glittergold | Eilistraee | Lolth | Laduguer | Gruumsh | Bahamut | Tiamat | Amodeus | The rest of the Faerûnian Pantheon --WIP

Bone Man's turn!

Clergy: Death and Taxes.

Jergal: He's either a sad alien insect man or a master manipulator and a villain who will end us all, and I don't trust him. At least he's a cute bug.

Backstory: The Dead Three and Cyric had to get it from somewhere. Also why do you need two backstories??

-

"Each being has an eternal resting place that is chosen for them at the moment of creation. Life is a process of seeking that place and eternal rest. Existence is but a brief aberration in an eternity of death. Power, success, and joy are as transitory as weakness, failure, and misery. Only death is absolute, and then only at its appointed hour. Seek to bring order to the chaos of life, for in death there is finality and a fixedness of state. Be ready for death for it is at hand and uncompromising. Life should be prolonged only when it serves the greater cause of the death of the world. Undeath is not an escape or a reward; it is simply the duty of a chosen few who serve the Lord of the End of Everything." - Jergal's dogma

Jergal is the god of Fatalism, and former god of Tyranny, Strife, Death and the Dead. He has two backstories given for him, and is the root cause of just so. Much. Mess.

What there is to know about his followers is rather short, so let's get that out of the way first.

Amongst the living, Jergal only has a handful of worshippers. Many don't even remember his existence. However, a significant amount of his clergy still remain, continuing as undead. Primarily mummies of lawful evil and lawful neutral alignments. Strictly speaking, as a servant of Kelemvor, Jergal is not supposed to be employing undead. Jergal has neatly settled this conflict of interests by simply totally omitting it from all his reports so that Kelemvor never finds out.

His clergy are known as the Scriveners of Doom, and his specialty priests who worship him to the exclusion of other gods are the Doomscribes.

It was Jergal who came to the priests of the human ancestors of Netheril, and led them to build their empire under his design. Once Netheril fell, and Jergal fell from power, he only really saw a following in highly militaristic, regimented societies.

What few temples remain are just stone mausoleums and dusty crypts - although they do have a nifty ambient side effect where they drain the life out of plants and animals and cause people to rapidly age if they stay there.

The priest in charge of the temple is the First Scrivener of Doom, and there is no other rank or title. The priesthood consist of a mix of clerics and monks.

His mummified priests pass eternity, sat at a desk in the crypts while Jergal whispers in their ear; passing to them the names, deaths and fates of mortals as they go, for the scribes to write down. They will be there, doing this until the end of the world, so the story goes. These undead are largely pacifistic, and will ignore intruders unless they are fated to die in this encounter. If the intruders attempt to disturb their work then they will attempt to drive them off, and only attempt to kill them if this doesn't work.

From the perspective of the Jergali faith, everything has an appointed time to die, and it makes no difference what you do or what precautions you take. You will die when you are meant to die, no sooner and no later.

The few living worshippers he has perform much the same task as the undead, but they have day jobs as scribes, funerary workers and morticians. As scribes they keep records of births, deaths and taxes for their employers.

Priests wear plain grey robes and long white gloves. They always have a bag on their person, containing scrolls, ink, quills and a sealed human skull containing the ash and bone mixture used in the Sealing (which also happens to be their holy symbol). Priests also shave all hair on their heads.

The Jergali priesthood has no patience for grandiose holy days or rituals. They have one holy day and one very small ritual called the Sealing; every time a person's name, death and fate is inscribed the scribe they sprinkle a little ash and powdered bone over the wet ink to blot it. If one of them must kill somebody, they usually harvest the bones to make more powder.

Their one holy day is the 30th of Nightal - the end of the year. They celebrate this by spending all night reading the names of everybody who died that past year, culminating in everybody declaring "One Year Closer!" (to the end of the world) and then they burn all the records, ready to start again.

Back when Jergal was important, his priests could be hired to create undead work crews for things like construction jobs. The Companions of the Pallid Mask were an order who specialised in combating and commanding the undead, and were tasked with destroying undead existing outside of service to Jergal.

The Hand of Jergal were a militant order who hunted down members of other faiths who resurrected the dead without paying tribute to Jergal or those who violated tombs and graves that were under the protection of the church.

Doomscribes:

There is a chance that a Doomscribe will become a mummy upon death. The priest has no say in this, it is purely up to Jergal and whether or not he feels he still requires their services.

They can tell by looking at a person which plane their soul is destined to go to upon death. They can also send the souls of the undead to their destined afterlife.

They're resistant to paralysis and to the life draining effects of undead like spectres and vampires.

They can use magic to make it seem like they're dead, and inflict fatigue and weakness on others.

They can chose to see the world the way some undead do: as a black void with points of light where living beings are, allowing them to detect the presence of the living.

They can paralyse the living with a touch, and while they are paralysed read their mind to discover what faith the target belongs to and how true to that faith they have been. The accomplishments of which they are proud, the things that bring them shame. How well the individual has used its strengths through its life, or if it has been ruled by its flaws.

They can also just create a portal to the Negative Energy Plane (also known as the Plane of Death - a world of absolute nothingness and entropy).

-

Lord of the End of Everything; Scribe of the Doomed; Seneschal of the Crystal Spire; the Pitiless One; Doom of Four Claws; Chi’kraltaar, the Sand Slayer; The Silent Slayer, Bringer of Strife and Embodiment of Death; The Forgotten One

Or just Jergal.

As of 1496 DR he is also now known as: Withers; Bone Man; That Sorry Excuse For a Skeleton, and Jerky.

Insofar as anyone can tell, the one and only thing Jergal cares about is the end of the universe. He finds life to be a momentary, meaningless thing that precedes the eternity of death and takes no interest in the living except to record their fates.

Scholars who've studied Jergal often note that his behaviour is not unlike somebody who is aware of their oncoming death, and has accepted it and is focusing on getting their final affairs in order.

He has an overly formal, archaic method of speech. His tone is always flat and emotionless, and his voice is dry and seems to have an echoing disembodied quality. Every word out of his mouth is cynical and fatalistic. Mortals find his presence upsetting, and being close to him seems to drain the energy out of them.

Jergal is loyal to the office of God of the Dead, apparently it's something inherent to his very being. However he couldn't give less of a damn about whichever individual holds that office, and if he thinks that they're not up to the task he has no problems undermining them. That means Cyric specifically, and Jergal holds Cyric's Chaotic Stupid/Evil behaviours in utter contempt. He seems happy enough with Kelemvor so far.

In fact the only other being Jergal's ever been known to show fondness for is the ancient Netherese Sun God Amaunator, who had a love of order that Jergal appreciated. He also has a dislike for Velsharoon, patron god of necromancy, who undermines the natural order of death and actively works to combat the other god's efforts.

Jergal's duty is to keep records of all the petitioners (dead souls) who pass into the City of Judgement to be placed into their afterlives.

In life Jergal was a member of a species called the Spellweavers, six armed insectoid aliens with colonies spread across the worlds. When seen in his true form, Jergal appears much as he was - a mummified humanoid that appears much like a human-sized praying mantis. His skin is grey and stretched tightly across his frame. He has "bulbous, yellow, lifeless eyes and insectoid mandibles." His body is covered in a black cloak that seems to fully absorb all light that touches it (because it's a portal to the Negative Energy plane) and he wears long white gloves over his "elongated, claw-like hands and forearms" and he's always carrying a quill and a heavy scroll written in a language nobody understands.

Jergal can read a person's entire life and future simply by looking at them, and there are no magical protections capable of preventing this. The experience is described as "something cold and inhuman slithering across the mind and burrowing into every memory." If Jergal writes a person's name on his scroll he can force their eventual fate to happen immediately, forcing them to leave to their appointed afterlife from whence they will never be able to return.

His touch can cause fatigue and weakness in the living.

When he manifests on Toril, he can chose to take the form of any undead creature or take the form of an ancient and wizened human man. When a mortal who has extended their life through unnatural means dies, Jergal often causes the sound of a book snapping shut to sound in the vicinity. Because even he has his petty little joys.

His divine servants and messengers include vultures and undead - although those last ones he's using a little less with Kelemvor in charge... he still uses them though. It's amazing what never goes on the reports.

-

Jergal has two backstories; in both he was one of the last of his kind, and entirely alone. One has him live to see his people's civilisation (Eril) on Toril destroyed, and later to feel his entire people be wiped out as he is bound and helpless for centuries. The other has him be born after all his people are ashes (Spell weaver reproduction is odd, and their offspring are born fully grown with the shared memories of their parents and ancestors).

In the version where Jergal was not a newborn, he woke up after centuries of being trapped beneath a desert, buried in sand; alone, undead and a new quasi-deity - and screaming. He went on a years long homicidal rampage, killing anything within reach that left such an impression on the locals their descendants remember it over 30 thousand years later.

In both versions, his people destroyed themselves in a ritual that attempted to elevate their entire race to godhood, which backfires and kills almost all of them, leaving a fledgling spark of divinity in the survivors (including Jergal) in the latter version this is how he is born. The disaster itself is referred to as the Disjunction.

In both versions, Jergal is a master manipulator and tyrant with an insane body count who terrifies mortals. Roll the Dead Three into a single god and there he is. Even though he isn't exactly widely known, he's still the source of several periods of ancient strife and generational trauma.

The primary tactics of the ancestral spell weavers, when working towards their goals, was to subjugate other mortals that can be subjugated and made to serve, while handing civilisations that threaten them power with which to destroy themselves from within. Jergal was not an exception, and he had a hand in many of Faerûn's ancient societies. He manipulated useful people and civilisations until they had accomplished whatever goal he set for them, and then once he was finished with them he destroyed them.

After the loss of his people, Jergal's first ambition was to use the Code of Revision - ritual instructions left by the spell weavers in case the spell went wrong, in order to reset time to before the Ascension went wrong. Unfortunately for him, the backlash had scattered the magical gems which stored the information.

To accomplish this, he planned to nurture the divine spark in him into full strength by accumulating worship. He began appearing to early humans living in villages along the Narrow Sea, terrifying them into worshipping him, building a cult and leading his priests to rule their villages. They grew into the kingdom of Netheril, and Jergal began to teach them necromancy.

In one version of the story, Jergal's ascension to full godhood erases his mortal desires as he becomes God of Fatalism, Tyranny, Death and the Dead, and he abandons ideas of restoring his people in favour of godly concerns like embodying his portfolios, gathering more worshippers and growing in power.

Netheril's growing magical power and hyperfocus on dark magic under the leadership of an evil deity was kind of concerning to nearby civilisations. The elves of Eaerlann started teaching the humans alternative (less evil and destructive) magics, so that the early Netherese mages had more avenues of power and study and would be less under the control of Jergal's cult. Jergal's response to this was to bring an army of orcs down on them (which backfired when Netheril allied with the Eaerlanni to fight them off) and then, thoroughly annoyed, to leave dark magic in the elves' midst. That was a little more successful, but also caught the attention of a nearby lich king of the sarrukh (ancient lizardfolk). In one version he catches onto Jergal because a rival nation of sarrukh was responsible for the death of most of Eril, and Jergal did his usual thing of wiping them off the map with his machinations in response.

This dude disguised himself as a human (under the name of Arthindol, called "the Terraseer" for his knwoledge by the Netherese) and began to sabotage Jergal from within the empire, sharing more lore with the mages and guiding them even further away from Jergal's control.

Other people who got on Jergal's nerves were the neighbouring dwarves of the kingdom of Delzoun. So he manipulated a lich into setting up shop nearby, and left the dwarves with generations of war against the undead, to keep them busy so they'd keep their nose out of his business. They first pissed him off before his ascension to true godhood, when the dwarves accidentally dug too deep and discovered his lair in the ruins of Eril. They unknowing stole one of the gems that Jergal required to unlock the Code of Revision and Jergal hunted them across the mountains, back to their homes, killing in a bloody, vengeful rage before he was eventually beaten back by the dwarven hero Delzoun (who died in the process).

In the version where godhood didn't erase his mortal desires, Jergal eventually realised that some of the gems he needed were lost forever he was forced to change his original method of saving his people and embraces his position as the Netherese God of the Dead (and the other stuff).

In -939 DR, Jergal had a new plan, where he would chose six mortals, guide them to great heights of magic and then have them perform a ritual which would transfer his memories, essence and divinity into them (this is part of how spell weavers reproduce, it's very odd). To these six chosen he promises a share of his godhood. The first candidate was a baby Karsus, and when he was old enough Jergal had five more promising children apprenticed to him. In one version of the story one of them - Tharlaguant Bale "the Spellslayer" - is the guy who will be Bhaal. (In another Bale is a separate individual, and the future Lord of Murder is a man called Arabhal - chief assassin and spymaster for one of the Netherese flying cities. In both versions, he is one of Jergal's mortal pawns.)

In one version Arthindol manages to poison Karsus with hubris, and when the ritual should've come to pass in -339 DR, Karsus' Folly instead causes a backlash that destroys the ritual, Jergal's plans, Netheril entire, several other empires, the Weave, Mystryl... yeah, it's a mess. In that version, Jergal embraces the nihilistic aspects of his portfolio and enters a depressed period.

In another Arthindol manages to convince one of the six - Telamont - into turning away from Jergal, who is then forced to seek a replacement. Said replacement is a young peasant girl called Mystra with great magical potential (she's also a chosen of Mystryl, but he doesn't know that). Karsus' idea to make himself the new god of magic is actually part of Jergal's plans in this version (Karsus is unaware of this) and Jergal plans to redirect Karsus' Folly to trigger the Ascension. Unfortunately, Mystra was only young girl and hadn't been trained to handle this level of magic, and she couldn't take in her fragment of Jergal's divinity. In a panic, she instead grasps the essence of the now dead Mystryl (who sacrificed herself to save the Weave) and becomes the second incarnation of the Goddess of Magic. Karsus dies, leaving behind some of Jergal as the god we know. Collectively, Jergal, Karsus, Bale, Nakasr, Arlochar, Elah-Nydra and Mystra (the second one, not the current one) are known - to the few who are aware of them - as the Lost Gods.

Somewhere out in the world, Bane and Bhaal team up and eventually run into Myrkul, who is looking for more power because being crown-prince isn't good enough for him. The three adventure together, seeking divinity. Ancient gods are slain, horrors are unleashed, a king is assassinated... and then they find their way to Jergal's throne in the planes.

Again, there are two versions of what's happening here: Version One: Jergal is genuinely emotionally exhausted and has grown tired of the world and his duties. He willingly abdicates to the Dead Three, ready to fade into the shadows and await the end of the world and of himself.

Version Two: Jergal has been steering Bane and Bhaal through visions imparted on them through their nightmares, and every step the three took getting to him - and their idiocy as the Dead Three - are simply further steps in his 30,000+ year old master plan to reverse the Disjunction.

[hannahbarberra162]

Struck Twice By Lightning, Chapter 12

18+ MDNI on Ao3

Shanks would be annoyingly photogenic.

You’d eventually gotten Shanks to sleep by the usual method. Namely, scratching his back and ignoring him until he passed out. He kept sighing at you and trying to extol your virtues and beauty. You didn’t take it too seriously - Shanks had always been emotional when drunk. You tried to shush him and get him to sleep -you had enough to think about without Shanks’s drunk ramblings getting in your head as well. Finally, his light snores told you he was snoozing and you could relax. You laid on your back, thinking about the night and some of the changes you’d seen in Shanks. He’d never left a party before for you, but was that really all you needed from a partner? To want to spend time with you over drinking? Then again, it was Shanks, so it was actually kind of a big deal for him. You dozed off listening to the sounds of the party continuing in the distance.

You woke up in the early morning and were unable to go back to sleep. Restless, you left the cabin and went to get a cup of tea from the kitchen. You brought it to the deck and leaned against the railing, enjoying the early morning gray skies. It was a cool morning, the sun still below the horizon, the sea wind chilling your bare arms. You were zoning out, enjoying yourself when the door to Benn’s cabin opened. You glanced over to see how many of the ladies had made it onto the ship. Benn was a popular ladies man, you’d seen countless partners come out of his cabin after a night on the town. You didn’t slut shame, either Benn or his partners, it was just curiosity.

Benn came out of the cabin alone, scanning the deck. His eyes landed on you and he lit a cigarette. Uh oh. That was not a good sign. Lighting up before he talked to you meant something was on the horizon. You gave him a nervous smile and a thumbs up. Benn sighed. He walked up to you and handed you a cigarette, which you accepted. Oh fuck, what was going on?

“Bad news, kid. Look.” Benn handed you a newspaper. You unfolded it and glanced at the cover story. There was a picture of Shanks carrying you back to the ship when you were drunk, you looking up at him starry-eyed. Below that, there was a blown up picture of you and Shanks on your wedding day - the one that you kept in your bottom desk drawer at your house.  It showed you and Shanks kissing and holding up your rings to the snail, taken moments after the one Shanks had kept. Your mouth dropped open as you continued to read the article below.

EMPEROR HAS AN EMPRESS

Red Haired Shanks, all-powerful Emperor of the Sea, is no longer the New World’s most eligible bachelor! It seems Shanks is off the market, married to a gorgeous gal. Spotted at a bar together, this rambunctious beauty can hold her own against our favorite Yonko. Just who is this mysterious woman? Come find out with our exclusive interview with a beloved friend to the Emperor and his wife...

You couldn’t read any more. You’d broken into a cold sweat. Your life was ruined. Benn gave you a light for your cigarette. Mechanically, you accepted and put the butt into your mouth.

“One of the dames from last night mentioned it to me. I got a copy to see for myself. Tough break.” You didn’t answer, your mind was whirling. You couldn’t go home, you couldn’t continue your business, the photo meant someone had gone through your house, everything had likely been looted, all your hard work over the past decade was down the drain because stupid fucking Shanks had opened his goddamned mouth at one island. That was all it took for your life to go up in flames. That idiotic old man Archie must have sold the story to Big News Morgan - he’s the only person outside the crew who knew your connection to Shanks. Because Shanks point blank told him.

Benn watched you but didn’t say anything further. You didn’t have anything you wanted to say at the moment. You were so angry. You were livid. You wanted to burn the ship down and everything in it. You wanted to go to Buggy and cry on his shoulder. You wanted to start running and run and run and run until your legs and lungs gave out. But most of all, you were angry. 

“Can I have the rest of the pack?” you asked Benn with restrained calm. Benn handed it over without hesitation. You thanked him and climbed up the nearest unoccupied crow’s nest, taking the ladder with you when you got to the top. You sat there in your anger, chain smoking the remaining cigarettes until you ran out. Your fury hadn’t abated, if anything you became increasingly angrier the longer you sat there, stewing on the loss of your life. You couldn’t go back to your life of anonymity - you’d been publicly identified to the world as Shanks’s wife. Even if you divorced him, there’d still be a target on your back. Some shitty upstart pirate or Marine would try to use you as a hostage or bargaining chip against Shanks. You might even get a bounty on your head, just for being married to Shanks. You couldn’t have an independent life - you now needed to stay where Shanks and the crew could protect you. 

You kept reading the article over and over, the words blurring together into one big mess in your brain. You should have known that asking Shanks to help you in any way would backfire. He had the unerring capability to have things work out the way he wanted, and this was no exception. You assumed Benn said something to the crew because no one bothered you or asked to come up with you. A couple hours later, you wanted to get a drink to soothe your now scorched throat, and you came down from the crow’s nest.

Shanks was up by now, sitting and chatting with some of his crew in the galley when you came down. You knew logically that it wasn’t entirely his fault, he hadn’t meant for this to happen. But you couldn’t contain your anger towards him. You stomped up to him and the conversation went silent, the men looking at one another with nervous glances. Shanks didn’t seem to notice.

“Good morning sunshine! How did you sleep last -” You didn’t allow him to finish before you threw the newspaper at his face.

“This is why I didn’t want to come here! Everything I’ve worked for is gone! My whole life is gone!” You hadn’t meant to start by yelling at him but you couldn’t stop yourself. Shanks didn’t react at first, just opened the newspaper and saw the front page.

“Well, that’s not great,” he replied calmly, “I wasn’t the most eligible bachelor anyway, that’s Beckma-”

“Shut the fuck up! I don’t want to hear any of your fucking jokes! Now I’m stuck on this ship, I can’t go home, I can’t have my business license, I can’t do anything except stay here with you!” The other crew had begun slinking away. You balled your hands at your sides, your head starting to ache.

“I didn’t think -”

“ Of course you didn’t think! You only think about how things affect you !” you hissed at Shanks. He wasn’t get riled which only made you angrier. Why did he get to be calm when he’d destroyed your world with one off hand sentence?

“How did they get this picture?” Shanks asked, looking at the paper with a frown.

“By going through my house, how else? I’m sure everything I owned is gone or destroyed.” Thinking about your house being ransacked made you want to cry - you’d spent so long finding just the right decorations and making the space your own. You had loved coming home to your cozy little abode. Even if you went back, someone else would have been there touching all your things, taking what they wanted. All your sake was probably taken, your investment in equipment now worthless.

“How did you already know Archie when we went to that bar?” you asked Shanks. It had been bugging you since you read the article. Shanks hadn’t visited your island or the one next to it before, but had been to another worthless island nearby. You never told him where you lived and the big island you met him at the first night was known for its parties - something Shanks would have sought out.

“It’s my territory.” Shanks stiffened and crossed his arm across his chest but didn’t elaborate. 

“So you’ve been to that shitty island near me but didn’t stop by mine? Please, I know what that means. How long have you been keeping tabs on me?”

“Just to keep you safe,” Shanks replied testily.

“Is that how Marco found me? And why he visited me all those times?” You were on the verge of hysteria, breathing fast. You didn’t know if you wanted to laugh or cry. All these years you thought you were free and living your own life, but really it was only under Shanks’s supervision. 

“What do you mean ‘all those times’?! I only asked that asshole to visit once , when you were really sick. How often did he come see you?” Shanks’s jealousy was rearing its head and you wanted to scream. Now was not the time to deal with his insecurity. You actually hadn’t slept with Marco, but you had become friends with him. He visited you two to three times a year and was pleasant company. Apparently Whitebeard liked your Moby sake, so you brewed a huge container once for his birthday. Not that Shanks needed to know that.

“I don’t want to talk about your fucking jealousy! You and I weren’t together! I didn’t ask you what you did for all those years - because I don’t care! ” Shanks had no leg to stand on, so he backtracked.

“Listen, it’s not that bad, you can go back -” 

“You know I can’t! It doesn’t - it doesn’t work like that.” In the middle of your last sentence, you deflated like a balloon rapidly losing air. You didn’t feel like yelling at Shanks or arguing anymore, it wouldn’t help anything. It wasn’t satisfying, and you didn’t have anything more to say to him. You were suddenly exhausted but knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep. “I just…you won.” You walked away defeated, back to the cabin, leaving Shanks sitting with the newspaper. 

~~~

You laid down in the bed, curled on your side. You watched the sea out of the porthole window endlessly. Tears occasionally tracked down your face and you didn’t bother to wipe them away. You laid in the bed for hours, watching the light change on the water. Nothing really mattered, you were going to have to stay with Shanks on the Red Force. Sailing around to nowhere, doing nothing, wasting your life. Your snail had rang a few times but you didn’t answer. You didn’t want to hear Buggy telling you that he told you so, that he was right, that things never worked the way you thought they would with Shanks. You’d talk to him later but you didn’t have it in you right now.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, you heard the door to the cabin open and shut. The bed dipped behind you. You didn’t turn around.

“If you want to go back home, I can make that happen,” Shanks said softly.

“No, it wouldn’t work.” You had gone over every scenario in your head, but you hadn’t come up with a way for you to go back permanently. You’d always be vulnerable without Shanks around.

“I’m sorry,” Shanks said while putting his hand on your shoulder. A tear slid down your cheek. Sorry or not, your life was tied to his once more. You didn’t reply. After a few minutes the bed dipped again and Shanks left the cabin. Your eyes blurred with tears now making their way to the pillow below you. 

~~~

A few days later, you still hadn’t left the cabin. You knew you were sulking but you were too sad to care. Shanks came and went, bringing you food and drinks. You didn’t say much to him, and he left you alone for the most part. By the third night, you felt ready to face the world again. Or at least leave the cabin for some fresh air. You left the cabin quietly, trying to make as little noise as possible. You hadn’t spoken to anyone besides Shanks since the news dropped and you didn’t want to hear anyone’s pity or concern. You went to your favorite spot by the bow and watched the ship slice through the choppy waters. You wondered where you were sailing to - not that it really mattered anymore. Lost in thought, you didn’t realize how chilly it was outside, you were rubbing your arms to keep them warm. You felt a warm cloak settle on your shoulders, engulfing you in a familiar scent of pine-sap. You wrapped it around yourself, enjoying the comfort.

“Thanks,” you said to Shanks, who was standing behind you. The two of you stood there, watching the water. Shanks put his arm on the railing and leaned in, bringing the heat of his body closer to you. You didn’t object.

“If you still want to, I’ll divorce you.” Shanks was speaking close to your ear. You leaned your head back on him for emotional and physical support. 

“There’s no point in getting divorced now.” There really wasn’t. You weren’t getting a business license. 

“I didn’t want the month to end this way.”

“I know.” Shanks was a lot of things, but you knew he regarded freedom as the highest priority in life. He wouldn’t have forced your hand intentionally. 

“We don’t have to be together. I don’t want you to feel like you have to do anything.” You hummed. You hadn’t thought about what you staying would mean for your relationship with Shanks. You’d been too focused on yourself and your loss of identity. You’d enjoyed your recent time with Shanks but it had been tempered by the fact that it felt like a vacation, a break from reality. You didn’t expect for the entire course of your life to change, it just felt like having fun. The two of you stood together silently as the stars began to twinkle in the sky.

“Where are we sailing to?” you asked out of curiosity.

“Back to your island. We’re going to get whatever’s left at your house. It’s the least I can do.” You were surprised - you hadn’t expected to see your place so soon. You were unsure how to feel about seeing your old life but it was thoughtful of Shanks.

“Thank you. I’m not sure what’s there. If you’re worried, your vivre card is here on the ship. I brought it with me.” You had intended to give it back to Shanks at the end of the month, freeing you of the burden. It could be a powerful tool in the wrong hands, especially for an Emperor like Shanks. 

“I wasn’t worried. I saw it already.” 

“Such a snoop,” you said easily. You hadn’t hidden it, it was in one of his desk drawers. “Sorry for yelling at you,” you murmured. You’d felt bad about yelling at him and taking some low shots. 

“It’s ok, I deserved it.” 

“I never slept with Marco.” You knew he was still thinking about it, even after all these days. Shanks had some kind of childhood rivalry with The Phoenix - he loved and loathed the man in equal measure.

“I had completely forgotten,” Shanks said, a bit too quickly. You hummed a laugh.

“Liar.”  You lapsed into comfortable silence together, your head still leaning against his strong body.

“Let’s go back to the cabin, I drew you a bath.” Your eyes opened wide, and you spun around to face him.

“Why didn’t you start with that!? If it gets cold I’m making you reheat the water.” Taking a bath on a ship was an incredibly rare treat, something that you missed dearly from island living. Shanks kissed the top of your head. There could be worse places to be forced to stay, you supposed. 

~~~

The copper tub had been hauled into Shanks’s cabin and filled with luxuriously hot water. You added a few drops of lavender oil and bubble bath in the hope that it would relax you. You hadn’t been sleeping well, only a few hours here and there, so maybe the water would help lull you to sleep. You started taking off your dirty clothes when you realized Shanks was still in the cabin, watching you.

“What? Nothing you haven’t seen before.” 

“No, but something I thought I’d never see again. I’ll go,” Shanks said with a smile. His tenderness must have melted your brain because you hesitated. Normally, you’d sit in the bath alone until the water was ice cold. But maybe it was his sappy words, your exhaustion, or your emotional weakness, but you wanted Shanks to stay with you.

“If you want, you could…join me?” you said shyly. You had been trying to hide your need for Shanks, to protect yourself. But you just wanted - needed - him with you. For familiarity, for comfort, for stability, for affection, for tenderness, for love.

Shanks’s expression showed his mild surprise but he wasn’t one to turn down a good time. 

“Of course,” he said magnanimously. You fought the urge to roll your eyes - you’d walked right into that one. Dropping your towel, you dipped your toe into the hot water. Perfect. You gingerly got into the water, sighing happily as you submerged your body. Shanks wasn’t far behind you, getting in with less caution, causing some of the water to spill out. He sat in the far back of the tub, settling you between his legs.

“Oi, watch it. Or you’ll have to clean it up,” you said mildly. You leaned back against his muscled chest, eyes closed, arms drifting in the scented water. 

“Do you want some?” Shanks asked, causing you to open your eyes. He was offering you some sake in a small ochoko.

“Sure, why not. You must be feeling really guilty.” 

“Mmm, I am. I’m hoping between the bath and washing your hair, you’ll forgive me.” You snorted and accepted the porcelain cup.

“What do you mean ‘washing my hair?’ You don’t know anything about hair care. And how did you know I’d invite you to join?” 

“Benn and Yasopp taught me. And as you know, hope springs eternal.” You smiled, Shanks had always been good at anticipating your needs. He grabbed some bottles from the floor and handed them to you. He slowly poured water over your scalp using a small bowl, and asked for some shampoo. After you squirted it in his hand, he started massaging your scalp. You couldn’t help it - you moaned. You’d always loved having your scalp massaged and hair played with, and after a hard few days it felt like heaven. It must have been difficult to maneuver with one hand, but you appreciated his effort. 

You could feel Shanks getting hard behind you, and you were feeling a little turned on yourself. You “accidentally” rubbed your ass against him while shifting in the tub. 

“I thought you wanted to relax,” Shanks said sensually. He knew what you were after. He continued scratching and massaging your head.

“There are many ways to relax,” you answered, rubbing him again. Shanks dipped his hand in the water to stroke the inside of your thigh. 

“Would you like to try something new to decompress?” You nodded. You had an inkling of what Shanks was thinking and you were interested. Shanks picked you up in the water and angled you so his cock was nudging your opening. He started creeping upwards while pushing you down onto his length. You moved your legs so you’d be able to stay in place and take what Shanks was giving you. You groaned as Shanks bottomed out within you, stretching you over his cock. No matter how many times you took him, his girth was always something you needed to get used to. You got ready to ride him, but Shanks merely picked up the bowl he had been using before and started to rinse your hair. Oh.

“It can be difficult to unwind after bad news, but I’m here to help. Tilt your head back.” You did as he asked and Shanks rinsed the shampoo carefully, avoiding your eyes. He was incredibly hard within you but wasn’t acting like he was affected. You were aching, filled to the brim but unwilling to break the little game the two of you had going. Shanks’s deliberate attention to your hair along with his disregard of your pussy was increasing your desire, quickly. He was saying something but you weren’t listening, just focusing on the hard length of him in your throbbing cunt.

“I need some conditioner, please,” Shanks said, kissing your cheek. It broke you out of your trance, remembering the bottles in your hands. His leaning forward moved his cock within you, causing you to shift as well. 

“S-sure, here.” You squirted some into Shanks’s open palm, hoping he’d move again.

“So distracted while I work hard for you.” Shanks coated your strands with conditioner and piled your hair on top of your head. “Now we need to wait for ten to fifteen minutes. It’s really more of a mask. I’m sure we can find something to fill our time,” Shanks said, lazily rubbing your shoulder. He handed you another drink, which you took. You poured it into your mouth, then reached behind you, turning your face to the side. You pulled his face to yours and kissed him, allowing the drink to flow between your mouths. Shanks groaned, and his hand started to wander down to your breasts, taking his time in rubbing some of the soapy bubbles onto you. 

“Maybe I should wash your whole body,” Shanks rasped.

“M-maybe another time,” you said with a shudder. You wanted his hand to keep roving and make its way down but were enjoying the tease. He walked his fingers across your collarbones, causing you to lean your head over to grant him more access. He used it to kiss up your neck, bringing his hand down to your stomach, pulling you back into him. You started faintly panting with the movement.

“Mmm, so sensitive. Am I that good of a masseuse?” he said while trailing his hands to the apex of your thighs. You parted them, hoping he’d continue his journey. He was still kissing your neck, making small love bites into your skin. It’d leave marks for tomorrow, but what was the difference? The whole world knew you were married, might as well look like it. Shanks took mercy on you and gently rubbed the pads of his first two fingers right above your clit. It gave you some stimulation but not enough. You arched into his hand, seeking more.

“Oh please Shanks, please,” you whined at him, spreading your legs further. 

“How could I say no to such a polite request?” Shanks rubbed his fingers around your clit, circling it, continuing to tease you. You were panting in earnest now, feeling hazy between the water of the bath, the warm chest behind you, the sake in your system and the orgasm starting to build between your legs. You felt your legs starting to shake on top of Shanks’s strong thighs, he was stroking you quickly. After so many times together, Shanks had a wealth of knowledge on how to get you to come, at any pace he so chose. You could feel yourself pulsing on his still hard cock and hungered for more.

“C-can I - can you -” Shanks kissed the back of your neck and laughed lightly. 

“I know what you want, baby,” Shanks rumbled. “I’ll get you there.” He pushed you forward so you were leaning against the rim of the tub. With a strong thrust he surged forward, pressing himself even deeper within you. You’d already been close but the added movement had you tightening against him. He kept his hand nestled between your thighs, his attention causing the water to ripple with every movement. Shanks moved his hips in a measured rhythm, sloshing the water out of the tub. You moaned louder, pushing back against him. Finally, he set a faster pace, both with his hand and his cock, tightening the coil of pleasure you felt. Shanks leaned forward and bit where your neck met you shoulder and the coil finally snapped. You felt time slow as Shanks bucked within you, stretching out the intoxicating feeling. He was going for his own release, pumping hard within you. As you rode out your orgasm, you as he went tense and pulsed within you. You sagged against the tub as he finished his high.

“Shanks, I can’t - enough, please,” you mewled at him, almost reaching overstimulation. He removed his hand from between your legs and sat down once again. He pulled you back into his lap. You wanted to fall asleep immediately, water or not.

“Perfect timing, we can wash the mask off now.” You were enjoying the afterglow, and didn’t remark on his comment. Shanks washed your hair delicately and brushed it afterwards while you dozed off. When he was done, he got out of the bath and got a towel for the two of you, humming to himself. He wrapped you up and carried you to the bed, drying you off quickly. You got under the covers, warm, pampered, tired, and feeling a little better. You reached up and touched your hair - it did feel remarkably soft. He’d done a good job.

“Thank you, Shanks. That was really nice. Could get used to it.” 

“I hope you do.” He climbed into the bed next to you, pulled your back to his chest. Your life might be in shambles, but at least you had someone who cared. 

[three-penguins-in-a-trench-coat]

There is something deeply suspicious about Sandy from Stardew Valley

Sandy, the chill lady who runs the Oasis shop and front for Mr Qi's exclusive casino doesn't seem to have any major problems, outside of a lingering boredom.

But something just doesn't sit right about her character. Sandy never leaves the desert, even though she longs to see Stardew Valley again. She claims that she can't leave the shop unattended, but aside from the farmer, only her friend (definitely more than friend), Emily, will visit once a year on her birthday. No one else will ever enter the Oasis. We never even see the patrons of the Casino enter or leave, perhaps due to the exclusive nature of it's clientele, or maybe there's another entrance. Knowing Mr Qi, some of the patrons may not be small enough to fit through the doors. Either way, Sandy is never seen interacting with them.

What we know about Sandy:

Her name isn't actually Sandy. We never find out what it really is

She lives in the desert all year round, even though she says "my delicate skin burns quickly in the sun"

She is able to keep her store running, even though she never has customers

She is the only place that sells the unique starfruit, despite not seeming to have a supplier that we know of

She is aware of the Casino, but not allowed to enter, thanks to 24/7 security. Despite this, she continues to act as a front for it, taking hefty bribes to stay quiet

She used to visit, or perhaps live in Stardew Valley before moving to the desert

She is friends with Emily, but is never mentioned by anyone else

This is literally everything that can be confirmed about Sandy. Every single thing we know about her raises more questions than it answers. Aside from Mr Qi, she is the most mysterious character in the game. However, stranding together the small pieces of information we have, one theory seems more likely than all others: Sandy is on the run.

She lives in the desert, under a fake name, despite the climate being quite uncomfortable for her. Out in the middle of nowhere, no one can find her. Mr Qi took an interest in her, enough to move his Casino into the upper floor of her shop. The fact that he did this means that she's different.

She never returns to the valley - unless you invite her to the cinema - despite claiming she wishes to return. All flowers from the valley are considered a loved item to her. But why can't she go back?

My guess is that there was an incident. If she is friends (girlfriends) with Emily, she probably has at least a small interest in magic. Perhaps one day, intent on discovering the purpose of a certain crystal, she accidentally invokes some ancient power, causing mass destruction and multiple fatalities. Sandy never actually meant any harm, but no one will ever believe it. And so, with a heavy heart, she leaves her home behind to hide in isolation. Emily is the only one that understands. And Mr Qi.

The dramatic soul in me would love to believe this.

But what I reckon happened was that Sandy was just a girlboss supreme and committed multiple felonies including arson, vehicular manslaughter, battery and grand larceny because she knew deep down that she was just a true queen and those plebians should keep their heads down and kneel at her feet. Unfortunately, she couldn't slay hard enough to counter the entire police force and went into hiding until she can slay across the lands once again.

Mr Qi watched it all, munching on popcorn and little pieces of rock candy.

[safely-in-vhagars-belly]

Vhagar's diary (The Point of view of a dragon) ((Slight spoof)

This fanfic has been dedicated to my friends, who told me to start writing and to kinda dont give a f what people think about it, tbf people will always moan.

The majestic dragon Vhagar shares her story, in a exclusive interview/tell all biography. What does she remember and what can she tell us about the past? What do we know? Vhagar tells all is part of a mini series featuring three parts of Vhagars life leading up to house of the dragon, with her ...unique thoughts and perspective!

I have always been a simple, elegant and well-educated dragon. I was born at Dragon Stone, which would become the ancestral seat of the Targaryens. The Targaryen family has plagued me for as long as I’ve been alive. From the very moment I hatched, I was wary and paranoid of those white-haired people. It was very clear to me, as with any other sane soul, that there was something incredibly wrong with them. So, naturally: I felt right at home in their presence!

I could hear the swords clash whenever Aegon, Visenya and Rhaenys were around. I could smell the sweet smell of blood whenever they were near and feel the fire burn in their veins, yes all that is true. But I must admit that I never felt more comfortable as I did at Dragonstone. It is perhaps a bit childish, but I hatched there. It shall always be my home.

What did I think of the three conquerors personally? Aegon smelled funny. He smelled like cattle and he had a big dragon called Balerion. Aegon was a true Targaryen in name, and birthright, and shared this wonderful bloodthirsty mind that befitted a Targaryen. He also gave me treats whenever Visenya would look away. Aegon married both Rhaenys and Visenya, for some reason I as a dragon quite don’t understand. But he preferred Rhaenys over Visenya, unfortunately. 

It was difficult for me when he died, I’ll admit it. I wish I had killed him for the pain he inflicted on Visenya. That will forever be my greatest regret, dear reader. I lit his funeral pyre, but I must admit it is no fun lighting a corpse that has been killed by a better, clever and stronger someone before you.

Rhaenys was a sweet boring woman and therefore never interested me, personally. But as Visenya’s first soldier, loyal servant and beloved pet I had to see and watch how Aegon treated Rhaenys and Visenya and let me tell you it was so difficult to not breathe fire at each of them whenever i saw them together.

Visenya. Visenya was the cleverest sweetest most generous and greatest woman that ever lived and shall ever live, mark my words and count my scales! From the moment we bonded, I knew, that woman was a special soul, like me. I could tell, because these are my words, so you have to either buy them, or leave it. 

I remember after she and I bonded; she did a victory ride, with me, soaring through the skies. I never had been bonded before, and no rider’s bond would be as strong as the one I shared with her. I always suspected that Visenya and I were part of the same soul, brought together by fate. We were meant to die together, too. 

Aegon, the pervert, was watching us, and now that she did have a dragon, he was interested in marrying his other sister as well. Visenya was happy. I think I know why. She was finally noticed. She was finally good enough.

From the moment I hatched, I always have been in Balerion’s shadow. Quite literally. Have you seen the size of that beast? But sadly, it is true, I swear on my beautiful horns. The Black dread, they called him. He inspired genuine fear, true terror in ways I could only dream of. You must know, that I was quite the pathetic baby lizard at that time, but I grew and I grew harder out of pure spite, jealousy, and determination. 

It was a sight to behold, the conquest. So many burning things, so many fleeing things! Visenya and I flew to Stokeworth. I never understood humans very well, but according to Visenya StokeWorth was not first in line when the gods handed out brains. They shot bolts at us until I turned the castle roofs to crisp and ash. 

At some point, they crowned Aegon too, I can’t recall when it happened, as I don’t really care about Aegon, much as you can probably tell.  I do recall Visenya feeding me a nice big cowhead as a thank you for my loyal servitude. I never had any friends, but she comes close to what I would consider a friend if you must know.

Castles fell at our feet, men begged us for mercy, they screamed prayers at their gods as I and the other dragons soared above the skies of Westeros, teaching it the meaning of ‘Fire and Blood’. It felt great to be a part of something bigger than me, something that I would know would last centuries. Something that I would know would last long after I had left behind this, earthy crispy shell of a ball.

It was great. But like all great things, this came too an end. 

The Dornish people killed Rhaenys and the dragon Meraxes in Dorne. Aegon never was the same after their deaths, neither was Visenya. There was this hole left in her soul that no dead body could fill. We went on a beautiful trip to Dorne, avenging the fallen Queen and her dragon. I did not care much for revenge; I was just happy to be invited and to taste Dornish. 

Aegon died in 37 AC, and I was invited to light his funeral pyre. I did so with great pride and effort, happy to see the flames lick away the remains of that man. Visenya had again lost something very dear to her, and she remained close to me. The eldest of the three, yet the last alive.

In 41 AC, I saw my birthplace again. Visenya had taken me back to Dragonstone, when Aenys, one of the sons Aegon had fathered, named another Aegon, the prince of Dragonstone, which made him the heir of the Targaryen kingdom we just conquered. I pray to their ‘gods’ whatever these might be, that this is the final man named Aegon in the Targaryen dynasty, as this dragon already finds this incredibly confusing.  I understand my lady was very upset. We passed the moon, and it turned red, according to witnesses. Well, those had a little bit too drink, I think. I did not see such a thing. 

It fell from the skies and shattered. I did see that. But what they claim? No that’s a lie, my apologies. 

The rest of the tale that follows is the tale of the maesters, of corrupt men writing on powerful women. I would not speak ill of the dead, though I do so with much pleasure, but my Visenya was no evil woman. She was gentle with me, she was good and kind. She had given dozens of reasons to burn her sister and brother alive, jealousy being the main one. I must admit, perhaps time erased all the horrible things Visenya did, and only made her sweet in my memory. I do not see Visenya as some beacon of goodness. I see her as any dragon should see their riders: Once upon a time, I was confronted by a girl who stared into my eyes, tears running down her face, begging for a chance to become a Queen. And I gave it to her.

As a dragon, it is hard for me to remember all this stuff. I did not become attached to much humans in my lifetime. Most I ate. But Visenya was unique for I felt we had a connection. A deep connection that threw us together and bound us. 

It was terrifying watching Visenya visit me, every time a little thinner, and a little thinner. I once shared my cow with her, but she did not like the meat, I think. Visenya was declared dead in the year 44 AC, but she died much earlier, I tell you. I watched her die, multiple times a day, multiple times a year, until I finally felt this, horrible emptiness. I wept and screamed, breathed fire until I had blackened the walls of dragonstone, but none of it mattered. I knew she was gone. Nothing could bring her back. I felt alone, truth be told.

At that moment, all I wanted was to join her. We should have died together, fighting as warriors. They call my lovely lady a Kinslayer, perhaps a Kingslayer and a murderer and an unfaithful witch. Well, let them, I say. My lady remains one of the most iconic queens of the Targaryen dynasty, and I shall forever be proud she was my first rider. 

She was amazing.

Not as amazing as me, but be honest: Who even can be?!

Vhagar's diary ends here. A part two might be in the works, I love vhagar very much and i like imagining her life but clearly she forgets/misremembers things and its so fun to write something else for a change.

[fanstuffrantings]

Among the many things I wish mashima properly expanded upon: I really want to know how the named fairy tail members ended up with the guild. Especially if they were kids at the time.

Lines draw back to shadowgear because I'm nothing if not predictable so let me ramble both in disappointment and give an idea for their backstory.

A bit long so under the cut

We never learn why these 3 kids end up at the guild. They form a group because, in canon, Jet and droy are more levy fanboys than actual characters. Honestly when mashima did a 1 year timeskip where everyone went off to do their own thing I thought these gaps would get resolved for everyone. We'd get backstory for people who had none. When levy on the council showed up I thought maybe her being important would reflect by making Jet and Droy crucial players in a coming arc. Something to give us shadowgear focus and flesh them out. I was naive because Mashima doesn't do those types of arcs unfortunately. And it's hurt ever since.

It's part of why I get so passionate about team shadowgear getting a side arc or two where they take on missions that aren't necessarily tied to the main plot, but there to build them as characters and even more, properly set up a friendship base for Gajeel and Levy.

The idea I had when I was a teenager was we'd get an arc where it's revealed that team shadowgear were all survivors of a destroyed town. Maybe a dark guild was responsible, maybe one of Zerefs demons. But either way that bond was what drove them to group up. And I still like that idea. I like them all being orphaned by the same event and their fates being tied together following it. I love the idea of a fairy tail guild member or group finding these kids with nowhere to go when they show up to help the town, ultimately leading to 3 new kids being taken in and cared for.

I would've loved to know what older mages shadowgear liked most and who they idolized. Give me shadowgear who bring pride to fairy tail in their own way because of how smart levy is both in her studies and as a leader. Give me a Jet who is quick on his feet while managing to figure out how to balance speed with precision leading to people marveling at his skill. Give me droy who won't stop yapping about the plants he knows and their various properties whether people listen or not, but that knowledge being so incredibly important and life saving that eventually people stop tuning him out.

The guild is meant to be a family, bit so many of it's members are utterly neglected by the writing so it often seems like we have several outsiders who exist for plot and gags exclusively.

[heystephen]

ashley/noitsashley/etc explained for the swifties who aren’t chronically on tiktok and don’t know what’s going on aka i rot my brain on tiktok so you guys don’t have to!

(long post ahead, i wanted to cover as much strange behavior as i could)

so let’s start with the very basic who? she is. noitisashley13, or ashley leechin, is a 29 year old tiktoker who’s gained notoriety for being a ‘taylor swift lookalike’. if you’ve seen anything about her, you’ve probably seen the video of the guy who thought he was meeting taylor in new york, and ashley and her friend going “nooo it’s ashley! it’s just ashley!” over and over again.

off of tiktok, iirc, she’s a target employee, or was, because she was fired from her nursing position for being anti vax and anti mask. she’s also married and has two young kids. so there’s like, your background on ashley. 

she has a reputation (ha) for being a liar about weird things big and small. for example, she claimed that she walked past taylor’s old place on cornelia street and the owner came outside and thought she was taylor and offered her a personal exclusive tour because of that (and then she filmed every square inch of this person’s home??).

it later came out that the person who lives there, alan, will literally just invite taylor swift fans in to look around if they ask.. which she did. when she first became popular on tiktok, she told people that she was not a swiftie and didn’t really know her songs, at another time she said she really didn’t like taylor swift, then she said she liked a few songs, now she claims that she’s been a fan since 2006, which like, again, not that deep, just painting an image for how much she lies. one of her more consequential lying moments was when she liked several comments in support of blue lives matter and calling her the republican taylor swift as well as confirming her (right) political leaning, and then stated that that never happened. it is a known fact that ashley voted for trump twice, she confirmed that herself and then backtracked once she got popular. she claims that she doesn’t like being compared to taylor and doesn’t believe she resembles her, but she deletes comments that say that she doesn’t look like taylor and blocks people who say that she doesn’t really resemble taylor; and she often doubles down on this ‘not an impersonator’ thing but she has a cameo where you can buy a video message from, you guessed it, a ‘taylor swift impersonator’.

SO, into the weird copying of taylor swift and how deep it goes. we’ve all seen the run of the mill taylor lookalike girls who can just style their blonde hair however she does it currently and maybe throw on some red lipstick and boom, everyone says they look just like her. that’s not what ashley does, by a long shot. while ashley did begin with that, she then began to intentionally take on many aspects of taylor’s life and mannerisms. dressing like her, mimicking her voice and how she talks, adopting the unique way that taylor holds pencils and makeup brushes. she has bought two scottish fold cats, a white one that she named oliver and a grey/white one that she named after a grey’s anatomy character (familiar pair?). at this point, a lot of people believe that she’s gotten veneers that resemble taylor’s teeth and filler in her face to better imitate taylor’s face but i’m not really an expert on either of those, but i’ll share some before and after pictures of how she looked prior to this.. journey of unself discovery she’s on vs how she looks now that she has decided that instead of being ashley, she would rather be taylor swift.

this week, ashley came under fire because she had said that she had partnered with the grammys as an influencer and was apparently meant to walk the red carpet.. for some reason. anyway, the brand that she was dealing with had her pay to fly herself to LA and everything and then let her know that they were disinviting her for very vague reasons which at this time are still pretty unknown. i believe the response from the brand, sweetyhigh, was that they hadn’t saved a ticket for her, which just sounds.. idk. BUT ANYWAY. much to everyone’s amusement, ashley was liking comments from people tagging taylor and asking her to fix it, and ashley reached out to the ceo of the grammys personally and inquired about it and was more or less ghosted. a lot of people believe that taylor and/or tree heard that ashley was coming and axed it for obvious reasons, others believe that she was meant to be on the fan panel but cut from it because they realized she was actually maybe kind of not the type of fan they were looking for, theories abound right now and i’m personally of the opinion that taylor’s camp didn’t want her there and told the brand she was with not to bring her. 

TL;DR noitisashley13 is a tiktoker who is trying to wear taylor’s skin like a suit, she’s a very chronic liar, also an anti mask and anti vax trump supporter