#a crown is warranted by strength.

[death-rebirth-senshi]

I think it's interesting to look at ideas they played with in dark souls 3 that made their way into Elden Ring, because while I don't think the Lord of Londor ending is nothing, it's fairly. A whole load of nonsense that's just kind of there.

And like, to a degree that fits the vibe of dark souls 3. It's all a whole load of nonsense; linking the fire, an age of dark, usurping the fire, it's all equally desperate attempts at mending a world that started circling the drain long ago.

And becoming Elden Lord in Elden Ring is similarly kind of vague as far as what it means and what exactly you accomplish by becoming elden lord. And it's similar to me in the way these desperate masses bow to you and beg for you to "make Londor whole", somehow.

Slightly less vague in Elden Ring; like the first flame, the Elden Ring has power, and power specifically to enforce a new Order upon the lands. And you get to choose what kind of Order that will be, or you can reject it and burn it all down, or you can reject it for something dark and frightening and uncertain.

[dimitrscu]

godfrey jumpscare

[multiverse-sparkles]

old money, old soul

༄ you loved him in a different lifetime; and your soul yearns for him.

༄ modern aegon ii targaryen x reader

was it possible there was a lifetime where you'd loved so dearly; felt the tender brush of his hands on your skin as he touches upon you, basked in his reverent gaze, brimming with so much awe and wonder that you could almost taste it on your lips?

it wasn't the first time you'd woke with a start— clutching a hand to your chest as short, gasps of breath leaves you, a feeling of emptiness and hurt overwhelming all sense of reason as you mourn for the silver haired man in your dreams.

he was so beautiful yet so melancholy. a boy, barely a man in your earliest dreams, yet his eyes were devastating in it's sadness. oh, but he was all the same yours. you held him in your arms as he wept in his grievance of being unloved, of the circumstances which he was born into.. he would tell you his fears, and you would soothe him with the gentlest hand he's had all his life. you would tell him you love him dearly, and he would know you meant every word because you had the same heart.

you were his reprieve. his world kept in soltitude, free from the intrigues of the court and his family that were bent in taking everything good in his life. no crown, or titles, or coin could ever compare to you. you held his world in your tiny hands, and his entire being; every good that were left in him was in you.

in your little home, he was no prince. he talked of his interests with the outmost heart. he laughed freely, with his head thrown back, with a genuine and free spirit, without all the burdens of his mother's expectations and without the fear of being hunted down and chased for his claim. in your home, he was not unloved. he was adored, and praised. he was comforted and held like he deserved.

he loved you. passionately. with his whole heart. he uttered promises of his devotion to your skin, building you up in the most sinful way possible, until you were melting in his arms... he adored you so. aegon adored you so.

that ache in your chest festers like a untreated wound; oh aegon. your sweet love, who would beg for you to never leave him. to never part with him, mouth full of your name in his breathy, pleading gasps. only in this dream, his eyes were filled with nothing but tears, his devastation plain as a day as he held you in his shaking arms, crying out your promises to one another. refusing to believe you'd part from him.

as everything good in his life, they'd found you. those who wish to harm him were countless, but he cared little about anything to warrant a reaction so visceral, he declared himself king to avenge you.

the maiden in the forest.

he was unwilling. so unwilling that he refused to believe you'd never come back to him. so unwilling that he heaves, struggles to breath as he pressed his cheek into your pale face, undeterred by all the blood, "promise me we will never part." his voice was low, different from the many times before but altogether, the same. "tell me we would never part, my love. tell me." he begs.

"we would never part." you vow, cupping his cheek, your touch was fleeting, "i shall find you in every life time." you whisper, fingers curling around his silver strands with meager strength.

"i will have only you..."

you peel back the covers, padding your way into the bathroom. in your reflection, it was evident that you had woke crying, your eyes were swollen and red from the dreams. or were they memories? could you even differentiate from memories and your real life anymore? were you so... lonely that you'd taken into dreaming for a man who's devotion to you transcends lifetimes?

you were unsure. but you'd wandered into the kitchen, many times that month, staring blankly at nothing in particular, hoping the yearning leaves.

"are you sure you're okay?" the soft, worried voice came from behind you, and you looked back to see your dear friend in the dim light of the kitchen, looking incredibly worried. "are the dreams still bothering you?" helaena places a hand on your shoulder.

you shrug your shoulders, "they don't bother me, ena."

"yet you sit at our kitchen, depressed beyond reason everytime." she respond, playfully. "we need a new routine." helaena tuts.

"you're not about to drag me into your lavish summer home." you warn, glimpsing the mischievous light in her eyes. she'd often clamored for you to join her and her family's summers in a sunny villa somewhere in italy.

so you've heard there's never a dull moment, with several children from her father's marriages, and general family affairs. helaena was as mild mannered as they could come, but even she comes back from summers spent with the rest of her family smoking to ease some tension. you'd held her drunk ass up enough times to know her family spelled nothing but chaos.

"oh, i'm about to do exactly that." helaena nods, grabbing onto your arm with a grip that has your reeling.

[sgt-tombstone]

CoD/Military Writing Reference Masterlist

UPDATED 03AUG24

Here is a compilation of information (with references/links/citations) that I think the CoD fandom and fic writers in particular might find useful:

British Army:

Here is a list of ranks and abbreviations (with appropriate capitalization) (for anyone with the shinigami extension, sorry, it's the BBC)

Here is a list of the equivalent ranks of the British services and US Air Force (for some reason not the US Army or US Navy. Don’t ask me why lmao).

Here and here are some posts about the ranks in the 141 and general attitudes that they would hold for each other (and how others would see them)

Here is a detailed breakdown of the British Army organization (with average numbers and who is in charge of who).

Here is the wiki page for British Army uniforms (literally good luck, I’ve spent hours trying to figure out when soldiers wear what). As far as I can tell, the 141 would wear the No. 8 Combat Dress 90% of the time with the SAS beige beret. For formal events, they would wear the No. 2 Service Dress with berets instead of peaked forage caps. Interestingly, the Royal Regiment of Scotland can wear their No. 2 Service Dress with kilts (which I know Johnny would be livid about because he can’t). Super formal occasions are marked by the No. 1 Temperate Ceremonial, or “dress blues”.

Commissioned ranks are Second Lieutenant and above. These are members who hold positions of authority granted by formal documents of appointment signed by the monarch. In the US (which I am assuming is the same or similar in the UK), a commissioned officer has gone through officer training, which usually requires a university degree or a military equivalent.

Warrant Officers (WO) and Non-Commissioned Officers (NCO) are included in the enlisted ranks. They are members of the enlisted ranks who hold positions of authority. WOs are granted authority through a warrant instead of a commission and must be promoted from an NCO rank. NCOs are Lance Corporals to Staff Sergeants.

The only enlisted rank is Private. These are members who have enlisted and have gone through basic training in order to be counted against the Army’s trained strength.

Sergeants (Gaz and Soap) are among the highest-ranked NCOs and therefore have a lot of practical experience (more, sometimes, than commissioned officers). They have climbed through the ranks from Private all the way to the top of the enlisted ladder. Commissioned officers, on the other hand, have the option to skip the enlisted ladder altogether and jump straight to Second Lieutenant (assuming that they are entering the army with a university degree). However, it is canon that both Ghost and Price were promoted from enlisted ranks. Nevertheless, the NCO/CO divide would be stark; Price and Ghost both have pieces of paper signed by the Royal Crown that give them authority while Gaz and Soap don’t. That being said, Gaz and Soap are incredibly high ranking enlisted while Ghost and Price are (relatively) low ranking officers. While they have less authority, they have similar levels of responsibility and leadership.

Comm discipline is incredibly important in the military. Communication must be clear, concise, and (most importantly) unambiguous. There are many, many commands that can be given over the radio and some of them aren't as self-explanatory as they may seem. Here are some of the basics, lingo, etiquette, and FAQs about military radio communications.

SAS:

The SAS is nicknamed "The Regiment", its motto is "Who Dares Wins", and its color is pompadour blue. Contrary to popular belief, the dagger on the badge is wreathed in flame, not wings.

"The SAS is the mirror in which other special forces reflect." The SAS is the most elite special forces regiment in the world and they all know it. They take their jobs incredibly seriously and are held to a ridiculously high standard, both by their superior officers and by themselves. The 141, as a specialized task force, would take both their training and their commitment to their job to the extreme. The SAS has a fierce reputation of being the blueprints upon which every other special forces regiment was founded, and every single one of them takes an incredible amount of pride in that. It's easy to characterize Soap as a rookie, especially because of his reputation as the Perpetual FNG, but he alone could run circles around every single non-special forces soldier in the world (and a hell of a lot of the special forces soldiers, too).

The SAS consists of one regular and two reserve units. The 22 SAS (regular) is based in Stirling Lines, Credenhill, Herefordshire and has five squadrons (A, B, D, G, and Reserve) and a training wing. The 21 and 23 SAS are the two reserve regiments.

The UK Special Forces do not recruit from the general public. All current members of the armed forces can apply for Special Forces selection, but most have historically come from the Royal Marines or Parachute Regiment. In 2018, recruitment policy changed to allow women to join the SAS for the first time and in 2021, two women passed pre-selection, making them the first women eligible for the full course.

The SAS Selection Process is held twice a year (once in summer and once in winter) and is a three-phase process that has an 8-10% pass rate. Between 2014 and 2022, there were more deaths in training and exercises than in combat against active threats.

Phase 1 is an endurance test, known as “the hills” stage, where candidates undergo a series of timed hikes between checkpoints with increasingly heavy packs. This phase takes a total of three weeks and culminates in a 40-mile hike carrying 55lbs that must be completed in 24 hours. By the end of this phase, candidates must be able to run 4 miles in 30 minutes and swim 2 miles in 90 minutes.

Officers undergoing SAS selection have a week-long phase which assesses their ability to plan operations while fatigued and stressed (sucks for Price and Ghost; Gaz and Soap would've skipped this step).

Phase 2 is Jungle Training, which takes place in Belize, Brunei, or Malaysia. Candidates are taught navigation, patrol formation and movement, and jungle survival skills; they are put into teams of four, where they simulate living for weeks behind enemy lines, living completely off of rations without a lifeline back to base.

Phase 3 is E&E (Escape and Evasion) and TQ (Tactical Questioning)/RTI (Resistance to Interrogation). This is the final phase. Candidates are given brief instructions on appropriate techniques (likely from former POWs or special forces soldiers) and then are let loose in the countryside, where they must navigate to a series of checkpoints without being captured. After 3-7 days, whether they have been captured or not, they then report for TQ, which tests the candidates’ ability to resist interrogation. During TQ, candidates are only allowed to answer with “the big 4” (name, rank, serial number, and birthday) and all other questions must be answered with “I’m sorry but I cannot answer that question” while being subjected to what is essentially no-touch torture (listening to white noise for hours, standing in stress positions, being verbally berated/humiliated, etc) for 36 hours.

After all of that, candidates are accepted into the SAS ranks, but still go through continuation training, during which many SAS soldiers are RTU’d (returned to unit).

The youngest person to ever (IRL) pass SAS selection was Lofty Wiseman in 1959 at the age of 18. In order for Johnny to have beaten that record, he must have been 18 or younger when he passed selection. Given that the minimum age for enlistment in the UK armed forces is 16, this is entirely plausible.

The names of regular SAS members who have died on duty were inscribed on the regimental clock tower at Stirling Lines, which was rebuilt at the Credenhill barracks. Those whose names are inscribed are said by surviving members to have "failed to beat the clock". The base of the clock is also inscribed with a verse from The Golden Journey to Samarkand by James Elroy Flecker.

Military Life:

During basic training, soldiers live in gender-segregated accommodations in a dorm-style room. Once out of basic training, however, many barracks are individual rooms with en-suite bathrooms (big win for our Sergeants). At most, trained soldiers would live in 4-person rooms separated by gender. The fastest and most reliable way to get off-base housing is to get married, but many commissioned officers get a housing stipend in order to move out of the barracks, meaning that Ghost and Price would likely (if they so chose) have houses near Credenhill, while Gaz and Soap would have individual rooms in the barracks. While deployed, all bets are off.

Many tattoos and piercings are permitted by the British Army. Here are the official guidelines. In terms of hair style/length, the rules are few and far between and incredibly vague to boot. As far as I can tell, Soap’s mohawk, Price’s sideburns, and Ghost's... everything are vastly out of regulations, so I wouldn’t be too concerned about any of the 141 following personal appearance guidelines (Gaz is likely the only 141 member within regs which is a little shocking considering most military regulations are unfairly biased against people of color, but that's neither here nor there). If you’re interested, here is the 2021 version of the guidelines, though many of them have been updated since.

As of 2002, unmarried service members are permitted to invite their partners to stay overnight in single-room barracks (again, big win for our Sergeants). However, these guests must report to the duty and sign in, which is a hassle, so sneaking someone on base is still a plausible course of action.

Unfortunately, I can’t find any information on the use of alcohol/drugs in barracks, but I assume that the regulations are similar to those of the US armed forces, where alcohol is permitted to any off-duty member (any member who is on authorized leave) above the legal drinking age.

Humor: military humor has a pretty infamous reputation for being dark as fuck. Soldiers joke about a lot of stuff because they deal with a lot of stuff, and humans naturally cope through humor. There aren’t a lot of resources for this, because soldiers don’t like that kind of stuff reaching civilian ears (for pretty obvious reasons). Active special forces soldiers like the 141 would have especially fucked up senses of humor because they deal with especially fucked up scenarios. Don’t push yourself for the sake of realism, though; if you aren’t comfortable writing jokes about active hostage/bomb/terrorist situations, don’t write those jokes. However, if you think of a fantastically dark joke and want to include it, know that it would be perfectly in character (especially for Ghost) and true to real life. They absolutely would casually joke with each other about racism, homophobia, xenophobia, war crimes, torture, etc. The important part is that they all know that it’s always a joke; shared humor is one of the most common ways that soldiers bond with each other, and being able to take the piss with each other is key to unit cohesion. If you don’t like that or if that makes you uncomfortable, don’t write it!

Fraternization: In general, fraternization is strictly prohibited. It’s grounds for a reassignment at best and a court martial at worst. One or both parties may be dishonorably discharged. Realistically, any relationship between anyone in the 141 (with the exception of Soap and Gaz, who are of equal rank and therefore their relationship does not affect the chain of command, big win for SoapGaz shippers) would be strictly prohibited and treated as a criminal offense. It is up to you whether your characterization of the 141 members warrants any action upon the discovery of fraternization or if it would be ignored in favor of keeping the team together. An argument could be made either way, so it’s a judgment call.

Call Signs:

The IRL SAS does not use call signs; they are almost universally used for pilots across all military divisions, which means that regular soldiers, even those in Special Forces, don't get call signs. However, as the CoD universe evidently uses call signs, here are some things you should know:

No one really knows how call signs originated. Some say that they started as nicknames given to pilots in the early days of flight. Others say that they originated as a way for ground control to quickly and easily refer to pilots over the radio. In any case, call signs have cemented themselves firmly in aviation culture

Call signs are not supposed to be cool. Ghost in an anomaly. The vast majority of people are not given call signs like Maverick or Iceman. A call sign is supposed to be (playfully) teasing and embarrassing; it's what the military calls "humility culture". They are often a derivative of a last name, based on physical features or personality, or related to a mistake the soldier made early in their career.

A call sign, once given, is rarely changed. Call signs follow soldiers for the entirety of their careers and beyond, and it is not unusual for fellow soldiers to only know each other by their rank, call sign, and last name (some can go their entire careers without knowing each others first names; a call sign basically replaces a soldiers first name).

Call signs are voted on and chosen by the soldier's squadron; they have very little (if any) say in the process. The squadron's commanding officer has the ability to veto a proposed call sign and often will if it crosses any lines (racist, sexist, etc) or if it isn't funny enough.

Here is a forum of US Naval call signs and their stories. I highly recommend giving it a read, especially if you need name ideas or a good laugh

General Writing Reference:

Resource for describing physical things (settings, weather, colors, textures, shapes)

Sickness Descriptors

Keeping Tenses (one of the most common writing mistakes in fic writing; this blog has a lot of very informative writing tip posts!)

WordHippo (One of the best dictionary/thesaurus/rhyming dictionary websites I've found and unfailingly keep open while writing/editing)

Tumblr account dedicated to writing characters of color

Tumblr thread with resources/references for international clothes and other items

Tumblr post with links to building/architectural terms and references

Misc Helpful Links (Will be Updated):

https://www.eliteukforces.info/special-air-service/ (detailed information about the SAS, selection, training, operations, weaponry, skills, and roles)

https://www.nam.ac.uk/explore/british-army-ranks (British Army ranks in order with brief descriptions of roles/responsibilities)

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_British_Army_installations (List of British Army bases and barracks, both in the UK and overseas)

https://www.quora.com/Does-the-British-Army-really-have-mixed-dorms-as-in-the-TV-show-Our-Girl (Quora forum detailing British military barrack living conditions)

https://taskandpurpose.com/news/military-pilots-call-signs/ (Blog post about aviator call signs and their use in military culture)

https://www.military.com/history/history-of-aviator-call-signs-and-how-pilots-get-their-new-name.html (Blog post about the history of aviator call signs in the military)

https://www.tumblr.com/sighmurderbot/735894836939472896/are-you-like-me-suddenly-obsessed-with-cod-and (Tumblr post - CoD mission generator)

https://www.army.mil/ranks/ (lots of very helpful information about US Army enlisted, warrant, and officer ranks as well as corps and division sizes/operations. Whoever designed this website needs a raise tbh)

If you found this useful, feel free to drop a like! I like knowing that my hard work is being used and appreciated!

[orcusnoir]

Sky's Zelda, Sun, was also training to be a knight. She wasn't just living there because her dad runs the academy.

So the Chain eventually hears of this and assumes that Sun would fight with a more light weapon such as a raiper. Something that fits the royals style of combat in nearly all of their eras.

Except that's not the case.

Sun shows up in a kit akin to the Old Man himself. Full plate with a zweihander, the blade being larger than herself.

To Sun, wisdom tells her that if you hit the monster hard enough, it won't get back up.

No wonder Sky is head over heels for her.

She's a Strength build, and "a crown is warranted with strength" - Godfrey, First Elden Lord.

(Technically, she'd be a Strength/Int/Faith build to maintain the whole wisdom thing and worship of the Goddess, but that's beside the point.)

[space-blue]

SOTE rant (1)

One thing that I find very annoying, is the propensity for Lore video makers to completely jump on the DLC and analyse it in a void. Everyone is theory crafting like the base game doesn't exist anymore.

Everyone is taking Miquella's approach as the go to for divinity 101 and acting like only the people name dropped in the DLC matter, except for Radagon, who is very important, despite NEVER being named, ANYWHERE in the SOTE game files.

Oh no, excuse me, he's named ONCE in a delete dialogue (unless he speaks during battle but I was under the impression that he never does?) from Radahn:

Yet everyone is out there saying Marika used the gate to make herself a god and created Radagon in the process. And that he was created that way as her lord, and then immediately fathered Messmer and Melina.

But I... kind of don't see it? Why would SHE need to use a special vessel ritual like everyone is theorizing?

She already has a sworn lord : Godfrey.

Why is everyone making these Marika centric lore videos and never dropping the names of key characters?

Godfrey. Serosh. Maliketh. Why is nobody asking themselves WHEN did Marika get granted her "brother" Maliketh by the three fingers? Why is nobody making speculation on whether she had a pact with Hoarah Loux before becoming a god.

He could very well be the vessel needed. He doesn't need to have his soul separated from a body or any such nonsense. That's what Miquella ended up doing because he had no choice if he wanted to use Radahn.

Here is what we know of Godfrey :

Godfrey was a ferocious warrior. When he vowed to become a lord, he took the Beast Regent Serosh upon on his back to suppress the ceaseless lust for battle that raged within. The first demigods were The Elden Lord Godfrey and his offspring, the golden lineage. Crown of Godfrey, the first Elden Lord. The age of the Erdtree began amongst conflict, when Godfrey was lord of the battlefield. He led the War against the Giants. Faced the Storm Lord, alone. And then, there came a moment. When his last worthy enemy fell. And it was then, as the story is told, that the hue of Lord Godfrey's eyes faded. Helm of the Crucible Knights who served Godfrey, the first Elden Lord. Weapon of Godfrey, Elden Lord. It was broken in a battle fought as leader of the Tarnished during the Long March. This weapon is symbolic of Godfrey's vow to conduct himself as a lord, later becoming an emblem of the golden lineage. In the days of the past, a crown was warranted with strength.

The first demigods were The Elden Lord Godfrey and his offspring, the golden lineage.

This line either means that the voice of the game is lying, wrong, or not knowledgeable enough. Or that Messmer is not a demigod, or that Messmer is the son of Godfrey.

And while he does have red hair, he is cursed with a red flame... And his little sister, Melina, doesn't have the distinctive red hair of Radagon's children. She's also not a demigod as far as we know.

Messmer and Melina are named M like Mohg and Morgott! We have plenty of hints that they could be Godfrey's children, first and foremost being the canon base game text asserting all demigods first descended from him. We simply don't know otherwise.

It's also asserting he was the first Elden Lord, and not second or a later addition.

There's also his vow to conduct himself as a Lord, which seems like something he might have done prior to Marika making him Lord.

The beast depicted is Serosh, aged counselor who guides the golden lineage. The black nails protruding from golden fur are said to represent Serosh, Lord of Beasts, who went to become King Godfrey's Regent.

Serosh is very mysterious, and we just know he's some sort of limiter. I've made plenty of posts arguing for Maliketh and Serosh being the same type of beasts from the same global origins.

Beasts are reverred by the Hornsent! Our first boss is their storm beast guys, and the head looks quite similar to Serosh. Who, BTW, is also a spirit form?? Who turns real on command?

All this to say, it doesn't sound impossible at all, to me, that Marika would have come to the gate of divinity already having a lord lined up -- Godfrey -- and counsellors giving advice on how to execute her plan : Serosh and Metyr mother of fingers.

I assume it would be in Metyr's power to grand Marika her (necessary?) Shadowbound beast.

Isn't it interesting that Maliketh is a Shadowbound Beast? In our Shadow Realm DLC? He's never mentioned in the files, sadly.

But all of these people are key to Marika's ascension. I wish people would think about them more when they do their lore videos and not just roll right into creating Radagon out of thin air.

What bothers me most about the secret rite here, is that it says "the secret rite of the divine gateway", like THE rite, not A rite. It could be THE other one is not secret...

But more importantly, the line "usher in a god's return" just really does not fit EITHER of Miquella OR Marika. Neither of them is returning!! Maybe the God of Placidussax would be returning, but both Marika and Miquella are/try to ascend for the first time.

Miquella is also the only one with anyLord shennanigans we know of for sure.

I think Miquella divests himself of everything in order to comply with this ritual. So he has something to "return to". He sheds everything, so that he can pass through the gateway. But he's returning to an Empyrean's birthright. To a demi-god.

But we don't know that this is something Marika would have needed. We don't know that she used this specific ritual. After all, circumstances are VERY different for her :

The Gate of Divinity is fresh and bloody, implying a recent mass sacrifice. And then she plucks Gold from a corpse or receptacle of some sort.

None of this is depicted in Miquella's return, and he's not trying to emulate his mother, because her way of doing things came with a curse loaded "original sin". So we even have reason to believe Miquella would not actually be replicating the same ritual.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I've been dreaming of the Ruler of the Abyss.

Kneel to the Thorn Fairy, who shall make manifest one’s dreams—the wishes made by the heart.

He promises happy endings for all. Woe to those who doubt and defy his vision.

How does a moment last forever? How can a story never die?

Alone.

He has always been alone.

But alone he is no longer—not when he is in his castle, surrounded by hordes of his people. He will never be alone again. No one will, all thanks to his efforts.

Never, never, never.

Malleus easily traverses the thorn-crusted lounge, floating across them like a specter. The bodies of school staff and fellow students lie limp in chairs and couches. Eyes closed, chests rising and falling rhythmically.

As he passes, he runs a hand along their scalps. Brushing their hair, patting their heads. Tender touches wishing them well.

Here is a king's domain, and here are his subjects. He, the dragon guarding his trove of invaluable treasures.

Malleus turns to face his captive audience, arms spread out toward them. “Today is something of a special occasion: Night Raven College’s Founding. I do believe this warrants a celebration—and, of course, all are invited to the festivities.”

A wave of magic washes over the room. Conical party hats manifest on each person's head, decorations appearing from thin air. Banners drape across the walls, streamers spill from black-clothed tables laden with food, and balloons tuck into the corners, safe from the needle-like thorns.

He projects applause, stunned oohs and aahs. Here, he is not a monster, but fellow man.

"Hmm, we're still missing something." Malleus strokes his chin, deep in thought. He snaps his fingers. "Ah, that's it! Music. It's not a proper party without any music."

With the wave of his hand, he summons a series of floating instruments. Bass, cello, viola, violin, harp, each bathed in an eerie green glow. They start playing by themselves, as if being handled by skillful, invisible hands.

Soft orchestral song fills the venue.

The guests rise, puppeted by the strings of his magic. Thorns on the floor retreat, allowing his peers to spill over onto the area repurposed for dance. Heads loll over--Malleus frowns and fixes them.

"There we are."

A glittering assemblage.

He smoothly conducts the bodies into neat pairs.

A waltz, he thinks, is ideal. It is also one of the few forms of dance he is familiar with. A waltz it shall be.

Palms link, fingers intertwine. Hands upon shoulders and upon backs. And then they are set to the hypnotic swing of the music, slow and sweet and intoxicating, like a steady drip of honey into one's mouth.

Malleus threads past the avid dancers and to the one person that has not been matched. The little bat who had almost flown away, far out of his grasp.

"Lilia," Malleus breathes raptly, "look at how happy everyone is. No one was left out. No one was forgotten. No one has to be alone anymore."

With this gift... my blessing... I've protected their smiles.

The duty of any Draconia.

He's proud--elated--but Lilia, alas, does not share the sentiment. Instead, the ancient fae wears a placid expression, eyes sewn shut. The same as all the other guests.

Malleus chuckles. No one hears it but himself.

"How exciting your dream must be. Action and adventure, at the best of your strength... I'm afraid this humble gathering cannot compare."

He’s sure Lilia would agree with him, were he awake.

“Never mind that," Malleus says, dispelling the thought. No more what ifs, only there ares. "Would you care for food? You'll need to keep your energy up for the celebration--it just may last all night."

He beckons with a finger, and a platter with a large cake hovers over. It is an extravagant seven layers, each a different flavor. Details are piped on in buttercream icing, invoking the image of each dormitory. A chocolate raven, wings open and prepared for flight, crowns the dessert.

A cake knife slides into Lilia's hand. His fingers slowly closer around the handle. With Malleus's guidance, he cuts into the topmost layer--Diasomnia--of the cake.

Something thick, red, and sticky leaks from the insides. The knife is coated as it is pulled back, freeing a slice. The violet crumb is fine, the frosting neon green with a dark chocolate drip.

Devilishly decadent.

"Come, you must try this," Malleus insists, stabbing a fork into the cake. He stuffs the bite into Lilia's mouth--but it doesn't stay, just rolls out and lands with a squishy splat on the ground.

Malleus eagerly waits for Lilia to beam at him, to praise him for its deliciousness.

It never comes.

Malleus laughs as though Lilia has responded as he imagines him to. He's drunk with delirium.

The strings abruptly screech, the dancers ceasing in their revelry.

He lets the unfinished slice fall. The plate shatters, reflecting one hundred Malleuses, one hundred Lilias. So many realities, and yet this is the one he has been dealt.

He guides the corners of Lilia's mouth upward, forcing a smile.

"Happy Night Raven College Founding Day," Malleus whispers, "and may you all have the sweetest of slumbers."

To his guests, to Lilia, to himself. And to the world that will soon be joining them in this delightful, never-ending dream.

Raising a hand, he unleashes fireworks from his palm. They explode in wild shapes and colors, emitting warmth and dazzling lights. The display is beautiful but fleeting--long shadows running along the walls before they blip out of existence and return to the darkness.

Every dream is like a firework, he surmises. A fiery flower frozen in time at the height of its bloom. They shall never wither nor fade.

Malleus reclines into his seat--a spiked and scaled throne, mounted high above the party venue. A lone king, untouchable.

Seated upon a mountain of lies, he looks out at his twisted kingdom. It’s a scene of his own creation, props lovingly places and toys carefully posed, acting out situations in his head.

The average school day at Night Raven College: students bickering, teachers watching over them. They see him, smile and wave. Talk with him, invite him.

Stay with him.

A loop playing, forever and ever.

Malleus sighs contentedly.

This is his happily ever after—from now until the end of eternity.

[dark-frosted-heart]

Roger's Route Preview

Warning, potential spoilers ahead

Too lazy to post screenshots

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this

You've yet to understand the sin of being "cursed".

Is despair what awaits for you once they're brought to light, or...

The man who's like a potent drug holds the key with a wicked smile on his face.

"For the rest of your life, I'm gonna lead you around 'til you get sick of me"

--

[Roger] My evil, it's—my willingness to fulfill my own ambitions.

Angelic man: ...Roger Barel. Former doctor that has this unusual obsession with "curses".

[I think this is Kate] I—"we" still don't understand anything going on in his heart.

--

Kate: ...What are you researching, Roger?

Roger: My curse—and how to rid the world of it.

"Curse—and how to rid the world of it"?

Roger: I could actually be someone with pretty dangerous thoughts that betrays Crown, you know? So, Kate. What would you do about it?

(At that time—)

Kate: I'm your personal fairy tale keeper, so I'm keeping an eye on you 24/7. If I think you're doing anything weird...I'll do what I can to stop you.

Roger: If you're gonna be around me 24/7, then you might just end up understanding what I meant.

When he declared that while with me, I crossed the line—into the sinfulness of the cursed.

--

Ellis: ...Why did Roger look so sad when he learned about my "briar bushes curse"? Not only that, sometimes he'll make this face when he sees me.

--

Elbert: The sin of a cursed one is far more powerful than you could possibly imagine.

--

~~ Flashback ~~

[Roger using "boku" here]

Roger: T-that person...and I... "We're not friends. That person and I are complete strangers."

Mysterious young man: ...Thank you. —"That's enough."

--

Something's scribbled on the edge of Roger's research notes.

"The more I learn about curses, the more ridiculous they get. It's like God's whim and it makes me sick."

--

You've always been strong and in control, and it's like I've been lead around by you.

Roger: Kate, look me in the eyes. Yeah, that's it. I'll never dismiss your ideas. I'll agree to anything.

--

Roger: Kate, you hurt...?!

--

Roger: Pfft, ahahahaha! You...You're really... You're so damn cute!

--

Rather than being someone that's strong, you were "someone who tried to be strong".

--

I experienced his true nature, and he stole my heart and destiny. But...

--

Victor: Roger. There's a warrant—for your arrest.

Roger: ...O_O

--

You've fought against despair so many times, and now it's my turn to save you. Because you taught me true strength.

Kate: Pull yourself together, Roger Barel! You are the strongest egoist out there! This despair's nothing. Just give it the middle finger and laugh it off like you always do!

Roger (without glasses): ...O_O

--

Our hearts overlapped. But Crown's #1 egoist—he kept a huge secret from me.

That's right, his "huntsman's betrayal".

--

Alfons: I wonder if that man's revealed anything important to Kate.

Elbert: Important?

Alfons: The cost that comes with that man's egoistic way of life.

--

Jude: O_O Your body—

--

(CG scene we see in his PV)

Roger: Kate. I'm gonna steal you, fill you, love you. So...love me too.

--

That man was a potent drug—and if you fall for him, you'll become addicted. This love is unpredictable

[singing-cicada]

List of people Zagreus Hadesgame should get to hang out with and reasons:

1. Soldiers and battlefield healers - lots of blood so it's an easy anchor + Ares lets him wander around and Thanatos is usually already there so he can take him home before he starts fainting

2. Fishermen - he stands in puddles of fish blood as he fishes for surface sea life. All the fisherman are initially confused at a half-on-fire-man hanging out at the docks until he casts his line. At some point he starts asking them for the names of what he's caught and they decide to teach him more about fishing in general.

3. In the same vein: butchers - he is honestly just curious and hangs around. He has a lot of fun people watching, and accidently becomes a symbol of good fortune; if he visits your shop then you have a lot of experience under your belt from many years of work and/or have a lot of product. It's a correlation of amount of blood, past and present, that makes it easier for him to anchor to a butchers experience and prosperity. Butchers star putting out stools with bowls of fresh blood underneath to invite his attention.

4. Midwives, new mothers, and newborns - he has seen a lot of lives ending, but seeing one begin??? Breathtaking. He's very polite and after every stops being terrified that he's here to claim/kill/curse/bless the baby he becomes a comfort. He's present at a lot of successful births so at first he's considered good luck. When's the first time he was present for a still birth, he was very gentle, he promised the (should have been) mother to carry the babe himself, to bring her to rest. They midwives no longer considered him an omen; he was a comfort at loss and a companion in joy.

5. Prepubescent/adolescent girls - more specifically before or as their periods start. Women make the connection between bleeding in labor to bleeding monthly and tell their daughters to ask for his help. Some for health, some for strength, some for relief.

6. Anyone who stumbles across his mother's cottage while he's visiting - most people know to clock him as a deity or associated figure so there really respectful. He'll offer them some produce and a flower of their choice if their polite. If he finds someone has already taken they are either 1. Allowed to leave with the items if he can tell they're desperate or acted in good faith that the house was abandoned or 2. Promptly removed with warranted force if they acted out of greed/blatant disrespect for the occupant (his mom). Weird stories start spreading that the garden is so abundant because he waters it with blood or that the house used to belong to a midwife who attracted Zagreus's attention with all the blood soaked into the wood.

It becomes almost like his first shrine: rumours have made it clear not to steal from the garden or enter the house, so people leave offerings on/outside the fences. Bloodied sheets, fish bones, seeds and dried flowers. Young women leave flower crowns when they stop bleeding, and young men leave laurels when before and after battle; his aid in spilling blood and thanks that their heart still beat.

[art-from-within]

I am really interested in scenarios where now grown up cult leader Mohg meets Hoarah Loux. Have they met before? Maybe, maybe not. But regardless I like to imagine that Mohg hates his guts (His legendary father is the strength behind an order he despises so it makes sense) but that what ever opinion he thinks his father has of him in return is inflated.

Like imagine, for whatever reason, Godfrey shows up before our tarnished, at the foot of his empire. His very being sends Mohg to red mode and they fight. He probably expects the typical omen killer/golder order fanatic type monologues from his father... But the whole time his father confuses him by admiring his wings or power, telling him that he has "come far", that the crown is warranted by strength and that he indeed does have what it takes. Then when his legendary father is engulfed in blood lust, he begrudgingly for a SINGLE moment, sees his father through the fear stricken gawking eyes of the lands between and not a neglected son. That single moment of awe inspiring terror anyone would feel seeing Hoarah Loux covered in red....There was a 'lord of blood' before him, and it was definitely Hoarah Loux.

[judesmoonbeauty]

Roger Barel - Main Story Preview

Fan translation only. Not 100% accurate. Please expect grammatical errors. Cybird owns everything. Feel free to re-blog, but please do not post my translations elsewhere. ☾.

My evil, is the will to fulfill my own ambitions.

An Angelic Man: ……Roger Barel. A former doctor who has an abnormal obession with curses.

I - “We” - still don’t know anything about his heart.

Kate: …..Roger, what research are you doing?

Roger: I want to eliminate all curses from the world.

“To eliminate curses from the world?”

Roger: Maybe I have some extremely dangerous ideas that could betray Crown?

Roger: Well, Kate. What would you do in that case?

(At that time -)

Kate: As your personal Fairytale Keeper Roger, I’ll be watching you all the time, and if you do anything strange…..I will do everything in my power to stop it.

Roger: If you stay by my side all the time, maybe one day you’ll understand what I meant by those words.

As I stayed close to him as I said I would, I stepped into the depths of my sinful nature.

Ellis: …..Why did Roger look so sad when he found out that I was cursed with the thorns?

Ellis: And, sometimes you look at me and make the same look.

Elbert: A cursed’s sin is far more powerful than you can imagine.

Roger: Oh, me and…..this person……We aren’t friends. This person and I are strangers.

Mysterious Youth: ….Thank you. - “That’s enough”. (screen shakes)

In a blank area on Roger’s research paper, I spot some scribbled writing.

“The more I learn about curses, the more absurd they seem. It’s like they’re at the whim of God, and I don’t like it.”

You have always been so strong and unwavering, and I have walked as if guided by you.

Roger: Kate, look me in the eyes.

Roger: Yea, like that. I’ll never reject your ideas. I’ll accept anything.

Roger: Kate, are you hurt……!

Roger: Pfft, ha ha ha! You….really….

Roger: So damn cute.

You weren’t a strong person, but someone who tried to be strong.

I come into contact with his true nature, and he takes over my heart and my destiny. But…..

Victor: Roger. There’s - a warrant out for your arrest.

Roger: ……….

You have faced despair so many times, and now it’s my turn to help you. Because you have taught me what true strength is.

Kate: Get a grip, Roger Barel! You’re the ultimate egoist!

Kate: Hold your middle finger up and laugh arrogantly like you always do, like it’s not hopeless at all!

Roger: …….

Overlapping hearts. But the egoist of Crown was hiding something big from me.

Yes, he is the “traitorous hunter”.

Alfons: Roger, to think you haven’t confided something so important to Kate.

Elbert: Something, important?

Alfons: I’m talking about the cost of that man’s egoist lifestyle.

Jude: You, your body -

Roger: Kate.

Roger: I will take you, fill you, and love you. So love me.

This man is a powerful drug, but once you fall in love with him, you’ll be addicted. No one can predict the outcome of this love.

[huggingtentacles]

Godfrey would be a better encounter if he either took himself less seriously or didn't talk. He's trying really hard to be badass especially in phase 2 but it just falls flat for me. He looks like he's trying too hard.

Imagine a world where he embodied the utterly un-serious attitude strength builds have a reputation of having in fromsoft games? Like you know the naked guy with a club is the strongest player you've ever met?

Imagine if he smiled or shown to have fun with the fight. He's trying to be all edgy and no funny. He could be an iconic homage to fromsoft culture but he's just a very angry grandpa.

But if that's not the mood fromsoft were going for by the end of the game I get it, maybe Gideon is supposed to be more of a joke. But at least make him silent. None of his lines land for me.

"T'was nobly fought" bossman I have 25 FPS on my PS4 when you start stomping and I'm fighting you with a torch. Get a grip.

"Now I fight as Hoarah Loux, WARRIAAAAH" This would sound much cooler if you weren't trying to be edgy. The voice actor put his entire pussy into this line, I bet they had more fun with that than you ever had in your life.

"The crown is warranted with strength" buddy I'm a Dex build and you're Marika's ex-boytoy. What are you doing here. Couldn't you just go get a hobby.

[wishcamper]

Heavy Lies the Crown: Rhysand, greatness, and the pressures of power

Or: the librarian’s daughter, former playwright, licensed counselor mashup of my nightmares dreams because I am vast, I contain multitudes.

No content warnings and no real HOFAS spoilers, I don't think, other than that he's in it but I feel like you know that by now. Spoilers for Breaking Bad (lol).

---

In working on my current fic (on ao3 here!) I've been thinking a lot about Rhysand and how he really goes off the rails in ACOSF and HOFAS. It's easy to chalk it up to poor writing, but I like the challenge of trying to make it make sense. What are Rhys’ motivations, truly? What would explain the vast array of heinous shit he does the text tells us is justified?

Rhys is shown over and over to be quite Machiavellian ('ends justify the means' dude, who was maybe writing satire). It's easy to list the times he shows this. The 50 year Velaris hostage situation. The bargain UTM with Feyre. The Weaver's cottage. Stealing the Book from Tarquin. CLARE BEDDOR. Infiltrating people's minds. Torture. Assassination. Allying with Kier. Concealing his wife's medical information. Being an ass to people in general. According to Mr. Machiavelli, any action is warranted if it the goal it achieves is morally important enough.

It seems like Rhys can justify anything to himself if he believes it will serve the greatest good at the end of the day. He does so many things with the air of “it’s for your own good” or “you’ll understand why one day” but that day never.. comes? Not yet anyway, which begs the question: is he that unself-aware, or is there a longer game he’s playing that all of these minor skirmishes are leading up to? What if he knows what's coming? And what kind of cause or threat would feel so great he could justify everything he does up to this point?

Okay I'm gonna talk about Aristotelean literary structure, please don't leave me.

The idea of a tragic hero is a character whose downfall is inevitable but who fights against it anyway. Hamlet is a classic example of a tragic hero, Oedipus being the de facto first, Walter White from Breaking Bad a more modern version. We see Walt learn he’s going to die in the first episode, in the middle he does a bunch of stuff to prevent his physical death (cancer) and metaphorical death (failure/obscurity), and then both his body and reputation die in the last episode as a direct result of his attempts to avoid fate. It’s blissful Aristotelean symmetry. *chef’s kiss*

Every tragic hero has hamartia, more commonly known as a ‘fatal flaw’. In Hamlet, his fatal flaw is procrastination, and his delays create space for all kinds of the fuck shit he was trying to prevent. It’s important to note that hamartia is by design a neutral term - not so much a flaw, but a trait, motivation, or decision that sets off the chain of events the character is trying to avoid. Tragedies have occurred equally from too much love as too much hate, and doing nothing is just as much a decision as doing something. The word itself comes from the Greek for ‘to miss the mark’. To try and fail, the backbone of tragedy.

One of the most common hamartia is hubris, a modern synonym for arrogance but which more specifically means an outsized belief in one’s ability to affect and control the future. Well-known tragic heroes taken down by hubris include our boy Walter White, Tony Soprano, Viktor Frankenstein, Achilles, Jay Gatsby, Kendall from Succession. It exists in real life, too: Lance Armstrong is a perfect example of a modern tragic hero brought down by hubris. And what do all these men have in common? Power, via money, fame, strength, the state, intellect, violence etc.

I’ve been enjoying looking at Rhysand through this tragic hero lens because while it doesn’t really make him more sympathetic, it does make his actions easier to understand logically, which is its own kind of humanization. If Rhysand is aware of a prophesied or fated event sometime in the future and is pulling the cosmic strings now, it must be incredibly important, like annihilation-level important, which is so much pressure. 

So he grows to maturity with an understanding that he will one day have to face this intense evil that could completely destroy his world, and it plants in him a hubris. He believes that his immense power grants him a certain amount of influence automatically. And honestly, is he wrong?

And this is where it’s important to think about how power makes people weird. Power gives people a false sense of confidence in their actions and choices, because their status and privilege protect them from so many more consequences. In this way it’s easy to see how someone can get a big ego - no one is stopping me, so I must be doing well! Or: everything is going well for me, so I must be really killing it! I know I feel that way in the first tingles of hypomania, but hypomania is fundamentally a distortion of reality and I believe so is power.

Power not only gives people confidence but also access to make decisions for others. They begin to think they should share the success they’ve found by leading and guiding others to see how great it can be if you do what they say. Just look at one of those cringe 'billionaire morning routine' videos to see what I mean. It’s a very patronizing form of altruism, because the leader genuinely believes they have the people’s interest at heart. And I use the word patronizing intentionally - leaders have often referenced feeling paternal towards their people, Winston Churchill + FDR, 'God the Father'. Power and fatherhood have been linked for a long time. And direct from our girl Wikipedia, "paternalism is action that limits a person's or group's liberty or autonomy and is intended to promote their own good".

I was talking with a girlfriend of mine recently about how I think some men don’t have the experience of other people depending on them in a significant way until they get married and/or become fathers. Like, afab and femme people learn very early to be considerate of others, to think about how others feel, to act in ways that keep others happy, etc. This plants in us a sense of duty to perform in ways that please others, to smile, to create comfort and provide caretaking in every environment we enter. So by the time we get to marriage and motherhood, we already know how to put others’ needs before our own because we’ve been doing it from the jump.

For men, however, this can be a completely novel experience. And it seems like it's SO HEAVY FOR THEM. George ‘Father of his Country’ Washington just wanted to go back to Virginia the whole time he was President. So many men talk about the pressures of being a provider and their families depending on them in a way women don’t, and I think it’s because for the first time others truly depend on them and they don’t know how to handle it.

In response, they either shove down their emotions as patriarchy demands and have a midlife crisis, or they abdicate that responsibility and go completely absent physically and/or emotionally to continue living for themselves. (Obviously there are good men and dads out there, and bless you if you’re lucky enough to know, have, or be one.)

And this aspect of power feels relevant because from the text it seems like Rhysand is unraveling. Between Feyre, the baby, the Trove, Nesta and being threatened by her power, Koschei, Bryce, the whole High King shit - I think he’s starting to crack under the pressure. And honestly, I’m kind of surprised it didn’t happen before now.

According to Aristotle, the tragic hero must:

Be significant (virtuous/capable/powerful/important etc.)

Be flawed

Suffer a reversal of fortune.

Rhysie boy definitely ticks the first two. I wonder what it would look like to get to three? I don’t think Sarah has the balls, but it’s definitely enhanced my reading experience and given me a lot of interesting things to think about.

Okay that's all I've got. Love ya, see ya soon xx

[warsofasoiaf]

Per your request: Godfrey character analysis please?

There's a lot to Godfrey, which is almost confusing given that he swoops in almost out of nowhere after your Tarnished has done all the hard work of collecting the pieces of the Shattered Elden Ring, burning the Erdtree, and releasing Destined Death in combat with Maliketh. The game almost encourages you to fight him down before he swoops in to steal your hard-earned victory right from under you. But Godfrey is far more complex than that, and if you include cut content, he ends up being one of the principal architects behind Marika's scheme.

The Lands Between was not simply an empty land waiting for Marika and the Erdtree. There were rival gods with their own rival orders that Marika had to conquer. Well before the Golden Order, the Erdtree was wild and chaotic, and everything was in opposition to the new way of being. Marika took a fierce barbarian chieftain, Hoarah Loux, whose bloodlust and ferocity knew no equal. As a chieftain, Hoarah desired nothing more than to fight and destroy, and fought with overwhelming strength and beast-like cunning. While we do not know what exactly led Marika or Hoarah Loux to be fine with the arrangement, since everything was in opposition to the Erdtree, it was a perfect place for someone who wanted a never-ending series of battles to fight. He was crowned as King Godfrey, and his axe tells us that knew his own truth, "that a crown was warranted with strength." Through countless victories, Godfrey and Marika turned the Erdtree into the embodiment of Order - far from the wild primeval current that it started out as, where the dew and blessings thereof flowed freely.

As warlord for the Golden Order, the newly-minted King Godfrey restrained his bloodlust but kept up his aggressive campaign of expansion. He sired a son upon Marika, named Godwyn, the Golden, first of the demigods. He turned to the north, to where the Fire Giants kept their Flame of Ruin and worshipped a rival god, the One-Eyed Fell God. Marika had her own rival churches built in her wake, and on the evening of the campaign against the Fire Giants, she implored Godfrey and his warriors, which included allies like the Crucible Warriors, the icy warriors of Zamor, and turncoat lesser giants called trolls.

In game, trolls are hulking brutes typically used as dumb labor (except in Liurnia) with literal swords driven through them as draft animals for caravan pulling, but aside from being an early game headache, they're also full of lore. Their exposed viscera is not a mere visual design choice, it's meant as a comparison to the Last Fire Giant who has the eye of the Fell God on his chest. By cutting it out, they turned their backs on their god and fell in with the Golden Order. In true FromSoft fashion, we're left to speculate why they would make such a radical choice. Their minds are gone, and although it's not said why, the fact that the trolls mutilated themselves to turn away from their god (a wound that doesn't heal), it's not hard to see why. Following Godfrey's victory, Marika kills the Fire Giants save one, and forces him to be the tender of the Flame of Ruin. He still maintains a connection to his god, but he guards his fire relentlessly. Perhaps, like Hewg, Marika's supreme presence (and the failure of his own god) so impressed upon him that he becomes devoted to his mission to the point of losing all sense.

While ceaseless battle suited Hoarah Loux, an Elden Lord to a god and the champion of a Golden Order required more than just might. To suppress the bloodlust that consumed him, he bound that part of himself within a spiritual councilor, Serosh, the beast. Beasts were known to be drawn to lords (and prospective lords, like Bernahl). In many ways, Serosh is a model for early civilization, a transition from tribal belief to civilized life, requiring a command of agriculture enough to build a population surplus. This requires more than warring with the world for daily sustenance, hence, the civilizing effect of agriculture and scientific development mirror Godfrey binding his bloodlust to become a lord.

After his victory, we can chart a rough path of Godfrey's expansion via the numbered Churches of Marika. The First Church is in the Mountaintop of the Giants, then they head west to the Altus Plateau, suggesting that this is when they started to build up the capital city of Leyendell, to create a grand splendor and dispose of the Omens beneath. The Third Church is in the east of Limgrave, suggesting that this is when Godfrey faced the Last Storm Lord in Stormveil Castle in single combat. After that, the Fourth Church of Marika shows that his trek led him to the Weeping Peninsula, where a lone hero seeking vengeance fights Godfrey, only to fall at his hand. Vengeance is one thing, but a crown is only warranted with strength.

After there were no more worlds to conquer, Godfrey wept like Alexander for there were no more worlds to conquer. As they returned from Castle Morne, they were stripped of grace and became Tarnished, exiled from the Lands Between. Where this happened is a mystery. The actual echoes are heard in the Third Church of Marika, but the command continues in the Church of Pilgrimage, where they are commanded to fight, die, and after death, return to the Lands Between. This seems heartless (and in fairness, Marika has her moments of brutality and callousness), but in cut content, we see that at some point, Marika desired to overthrow the Golden Order. She tasked Hewg with designing a weapon that could slay a god (presumably the Elden Beast, as opposed to herself), and she tasked her demigod children to grow strong or be forgotten. Given that some of them pursued paths directly in opposition to the Golden Order, there is a strong suggestion that she knew what was going on and hoped for someone to become mighty enough to slay the Elden Beast. In a cut dialogue, she shares her plan with Godfrey, and he in turn seeks to help her, to become mighty and be granted audience once more. And so Godfrey left, becoming Hoarah Loux once more, fighting until his axe broke and his body was crucified, dying in a nameless world.

One of the most telling hints of how far you've come in the game is in his introductory cutscene. After Morgott fades, the faint hint of grace can be seen in the background. This has been your constant companion, pointing the way to the next objectives. Yet if you see the pattern in the spectacles, it's coming off of Godfrey, and toward you. In Marika's scheme, Godfrey's next task is to go through you, to assert his claim, as "a crown is warranted with strength," and a lord can brook no rivals. In battle, Godfrey fights as a regal lord, with strong axe attacks. He cuts a majestic figure with his spectral lion and flowing blue cloak. He looks like a lord, and fights with strength, but honor. There's predictability and rigidity to Godfrey, the First Elden Lord. If you knock his health down enough, he gives pause. He realizes that his limited strength is not enough. He tears Serosh's head from his shoulders, the councilor that had advised the Golden Lineage, and becomes Hoarah Loux. And fittingly, his stance completely changes. His cloak is in tatters, and he leans forward with a bestial snarl and savage stance. He fights savagely, with big sweeps, wrestling moves, and earth stomps, drenched in blood. This is Hoarah Loux, the warrior that desired to subjugate all before him with no thought of what happens next. It takes the Tarnished's full measure to defeat him. When you do, he falls, but he acknowledges his own mantra to the end. If a crown is warranted with strength, then the superior strength of the Tarnished befits a crown.

Thanks for the question, Mistland.

SomethingLikeALawyer, Hand of the King

[sminiac]

Smut! Ep.2 of ‘What is x-list’ has me thinking about

Sumin successfully claiming his spot with you in the back of the van after Yujun had relentlessly tried to persuade him into trading seats prior to leaving the hotel, and Sumin’s the type to hardly ever resort to becoming loose lipped with the twisting jealousy that wrings his neck tight, at the most he’d place a gentle hand on you, subtle in reminding whoever it is that he’s the one who’s welcome to touch you without having to ask beforehand as he rubs at your waist, or your shoulder.

Surely the pure domesticity in the gesture would be enough to warrant a satisfactory response, right?

But this time due to the jet lag his exhaustion took prominence over any rational decision he’d normally opt for instead of being petty, you’re quick to notice the difference in his face once you’re buckled in by his effort alone, a short tug at the belt to make sure it’s secure before he falls back into his seat with an exasperated sigh, his boyish grin melted down into this almost agitated frown that hangs heavy from his lips is highlighted under the mixed blur of streetlights.

“You okay?” You ask softly, in a brush of a whisper as to keep Yujun’s ears from picking it up, not that he’d notice that easily with the banter between him and the camera, too occupied by narrating tonight’s activity to care. Without a word Sumin reaches for your thigh, shifting his body towards yours, closer, so that your legs can rest comfortably over his and his arm can slip behind your neck.

His fingers work at brushing any stray hair back from your eyes, the point of his chin digging gently into the crown of your head as he nods. “Jus’ tired,” he says, his voice is heavy in his throat which adds an underlying rasp to it that pokes through his words, it makes your hips shift, knees knocking together. “‘n I missed you.”

His head shifts, pressing a kiss into your hair once before you’re smiling, “Missed me? I was with you the whole time, silly.” craning your head so he can reach your forehead, he works with you in silence, familiar with the way your brain works by now. “But I didn’t have you to myself, there’s a difference.” This time he presses a real kiss to your forehead, one that’s a little wet, but sweet nonetheless.

His hand comes up to the side of your head, gently tucking you into him, his other spread over your thigh, running warmth into you from his motions, chasing away whatever remains of the nippy New York air. “Is that why you’re pouting? ‘Cause you almost couldn’t have me alone back here with you?”

He silently nods, reiterating “Missed you, so much.” As his fingers skim quite quickly up your thigh, holding you tighter against him as he runs against the band of your sweats. “I’m guessing this is why you told me not to wear jeans.” He nods again as his fingers disappear under the fabric. “Wanted you to be comfy… among other things.”

The band hugs him tight to you, but with the continuous strength training that pertains to his arms the most due to his career he easily maintains a steady hand as his fingers poke past the smaller, thinner band of your panties, a soft gasp you manage to bite back at the end note leaves as he slips his way between your folds, the contrast between what you’ve been keeping warm between your thighs since you met him in the lobby and how quickly the air turned his skin cold makes your hips cant in surprise, opposed to him, who is rather unsurprised by the pooling slick that greets him.

The pad of his middle finger works effortlessly to find your clit, and he doesn’t waste time with easing you into a slow pace, he rubs and flicks at it, direct and fast, a smile cracking at his face at the way you jolt and cling onto him to try and restrain yourself from allowing any noise to fall from your mouth.

“Sumi—” you attempt to complain, but he merely stares blankly at you in return, “You can handle it.” He states before dipping down so he can catch you in a kiss, and he’s not shy about letting his tongue lick into your mouth, it’s almost teasing, you know he finds entertainment in the failure of your weak kisses, too fuzzy of a feeling creeping up through your thighs to the bottom of your stomach to be conscious of how slack your lips are against his.

“Close?” He asks, but you can barely get out a squeak or else every other sound with come clawing its way out of your mouth too, instead you fist firmly at his shirt, curling yourself further into him to try and find cushioning for your sanity from the potential embarrassment that’s about to happen, too far gone to ask of him to stop now, the feeling of his fingers already has you engulfed.

Your teeth bare down on nothing, mentally prepared for at least a soft whimper to fall astray, and his pace only quickens with you.

“Hey— what was that song again? The one about Newww Yooork, concrete- that one, what’s it called?” Yujun turns around in his seat, the recording camera pointed directly at his face now, and the way you’re almost completely burrowed into him.

A soft incoherent sound of complaint bubbles up as his fingers still, the warm pulse of your clit twitching at the sudden loss of contact.

“Uh- I don’t- I don’t know, let me look for it.”

Sumin shuffles out his phone from his pocket , pretending the work at typing in any keywords from the song as he’s leaning back into your slumped figure, “You’re awful.” You whine before he can get a word out, his hand pulling free as he smiles apologetically, still glistening with your arousal.

“I know baby, I’m sorry, more when we’re done today.” He reassures, returning to press a short kiss to your lips before abruptly his fingers are in his mouth, tongue pulling against the skin to suck whatever remains of you on them.

Your fist knocks into his chest, but he only laughs to himself.

“Hey, did you find that song yet?”

[thevelaryons]

ADDAM + HUGH

The way GRRM wrote these 2 dragonseeds, it's apparent they are meant to be contrasted against each other. With other dragonseeds, like Ulf, he exists as a sidekick to Hugh and someone who tries to take up Hugh's mantle after his death, so we don't even get much of a description of what he's truly like. Ulf's role in the story is more about having a presence as one of the betrayers so that the 2 Treasons plot can have urgency. Ulf is to Hugh what Alyn is to Addam. And because of that contrast, obviously Alyn is a character with much greater importance than Ulf. Nettles stands apart from the rest of the dragonseeds which is why her story takes a different turn at the end. With Addam and Hugh specifically though, they are narrative foils.

SMALL & QUICK VS TALL & STRONG

Small and quick as their mother, these bastards of Hull were both silver of hair and purple of eye, and soon proved to have “sea salt in their blood” as well, growing up in their grandsire’s shipyard and going to sea as ship’s boys before the age of eight.

— Fire & Blood, The Dying of the Dragons: The Red Dragon and the Gold

The son of a common blacksmith, Hammer was a huge man, with hands so strong that he was said to be able to twist steel bars into torcs. Though largely untrained in the art of war, his size and strength made him a fearsome foe.

— Fire & Blood, The Dying of the Dragons: Rhaenyra Triumphant

SECRETIVE VS BOASTFUL

And Addam Velaryon, lately Addam of Hull, sought out the Sea Snake after the battle; what they spoke to each other even Mushroom does not say.

— Fire & Blood, The Dying of the Dragons: The Red Dragon and the Gold

Mushroom tells us there were two men on Dragonstone that night who drank to the slaughter in a smoky tavern beneath the castle: the dragonriders Hugh the Hammer and Ulf the White, who had flown Vermithor and Silverwing into battle and lived to boast of it. “We are knights now, truly,” Hard Hugh declared.

— Fire & Blood, The Dying of the Dragons: The Red Dragon and the Gold

NOBLE COMPANY VS UNSAVOURY FOLLOWERS

Addam Velaryon was relentless and determined and glib of tongue, and the riverlords knew much and more of the horrors that had befallen Tumbleton. By the time Ser Addam was ready to descend on Tumbleton, he had near four thousand men at his back. Benjicot Blackwood, the twelve-year-old Lord of Raventree, had come forth, as had the widowed Sabitha Frey, Lady of the Twins, with her father and brothers of House Vypren. Lords Stanton Piper, Joseth Smallwood, Derrick Darry, and Lyonel Deddings had scraped together fresh levies of greybeards and green boys, though all had suffered grievous losses in the autumn’s battles. Hugo Vance, the young lord of Wayfarer’s Rest, had come, with three hundred of his own men plus Black Trombo’s Myrish sellswords. Most notably of all, House Tully had joined the war.

— Fire & Blood, The Dying of the Dragons: Rhaenyra Overthrown

Though Hammer’s ambition was unseemly in one born so low, the bastard undeniably possessed some Targaryen blood and had proved himself fierce in battle and open-handed to those who followed him, displaying the sort of largesse that draws men to leaders as a corpse draws flies. They were the worst sort of men, to be sure: sellswords, robber knights, and like rabble, men of tainted blood and uncertain birth who loved battle for its own sake and lived for rapine and plunder.

— Fire & Blood, The Dying of the Dragons: Rhaenyra Overthrown

LOYALTY VS TREACHEROUS AMBITION

Ser Addam flew far and fast, descending on castles great and small whose lords were loyal to the queen, to piece together an army.

— Fire & Blood, The Dying of the Dragons: Rhaenyra Overthrown

Lord Hammer (as he now styled himself) began to dream of crowns. “Why be a lord when you can be a king?” he told the men who began to gather round him.

— Fire & Blood, The Dying of the Dragons: Rhaenyra Triumphant

WARRANT FOR ARREST VS WARRANT FOR EXECUTION

As Ser Luthor Largent and his gold cloaks rode up Rhaenys’s Hill with the queen’s warrant, the doors of the Dragonpit were thrown open above them, and Seasmoke spread his pale grey wings and took flight, smoke rising from his nostrils.

— Fire & Blood, The Dying of the Dragons: Rhaenyra Triumphant

Nor did the once-gentle prince hesitate when Lord Unwin Peake presented him with warrants for the execution of Hard Hugh Hammer and Ulf White, but eagerly affixed his seal.

— Fire & Blood, The Dying of the Dragons: Rhaenyra Overthrown

HONORABLE DEATH VS DISHONORABLE DEATH

Young Ser Addam died bravely at the Second Battle of Tumbleton, proving his faithfulness with his life after it had been called into question by the deeds of the Two Betrayers.

— The World of Ice and Fire, Aegon II

When he spied Hard Hugh, Roxton saw his chance, and said, “Lord Hammer, my condolences.” Hammer turned, glowering. “For what?” he demanded. “You died in the battle,” Bold Jon replied, drawing Orphan-Maker and thrusting deep into Hammer’s belly, before opening the bastard from groin to throat.

— Fire & Blood, The Dying of the Dragons: Rhaenyra Overthrown