#history of skiing timeline

[tenchikotheartist]

Frick it, we ball

KISMET HEADCANNONS for some future fan stuff I wanna make... Goes with this post kinda

Under a cut because it's LONG (the fixation has been REAL)

Gen

They band was formed shortly after the events of Trolls 1. It's the only way they make sense in my mind's timeline.

Branch was trying to get more involved with Troll village without relying on Poppy to connect him with people. He formed his own group of friends, and they became Kismet after realizing how much they enjoyed harmonizing/performing together.

These guys give me frat boy energy for some reason. They just collectively become more chaotic when they're around each other. Yes, even Branch. He and Hype play hot potato with the braincell because otherwise, nothing would get done in this group.

As they got to know one another, teasing one another became their primary love language. Lots of jabs and quips will fly among them when they're together, but they each know it's all in good fun.

Branch

Branch kept his involvement in the band a secret because, well...y'know. He has complicated history with being in a boyband, so he wanted to explore his feelings about Kismet without being bombarded with input from people outside the group.

He's fond of his friends and genuinely enjoys being a part of the band though! He just wants to be sure he's a part of this boy band because he's happy being with them and not because he's trying to recapture something he'd lost 20 years ago.

At first, the others were (understandably) hurt by Branch's desire to keep his place in the band a secret, but after he explained his reasons, they were willing to support him.

They were absolutely thrilled when he finally becomes open about the band though!

During the secrecy period, when he performs in Pop Village, he hides his identity behind a disguise that somehow works (Branch, every time it works: "wtf????"), and he goes by a stage name.

Hype

Officially the group leader, but he's more of a mediator than anything. He relies on the rest of the group to give their input for any big band decisions, but he coordinates band meetings, schedules gigs, and works out compromises if there's any group conflicts.

He and Branch had been childhood friends before The Incident(s) estranged them. Back in the Troll Tree, they'd been neighbors whose parents (Branch's grandma; Hype's mom) set up on frequent playdates, so they'd been really close.

They reconnected after the events of movie 1, Hype introduced Branch to Trickee and later Boom. Trickee brought in Ablaze and the rest was history.

Hype is a social butterly but he's otherwise one of the more calm personalities in the group. He feeds off of other people's energy and is a bit of a people-pleaser. Luckily, he's pretty good at finding the right crowd to run with, otherwise he'd probably land in so much trouble.

Boom

Hype's cousin, and a big party person! Before the band took off, he DJ'd at a party venue in Pop Village. That same place was also where Kismet got their first gig!

He loves loud music and flashy parties where he can shine on the dance floor and make memories people he may only know for a night.

Peak ADHD Energy™. He's a chatterbox. He has no volume control. He tunnel visions so hard, he becomes that B99 headphones meme. The man has cool guy syndrome, no doubt about it!

For the creation of the Band earliest albums, Boom took charge as the producer. He loves messing with music, mixing and remixing sounds on his free time and experimenting with the genre.

Trickee

A thrill-seeking menace to society. He's adventurous and loves taking huge risks for the adrenaline rush. He's the type of guy who would go down a waterfall in a barrel or ski down a dangerous mountain just to see if he survives it.

Everyone in the band is in agreement about protecting Trickee from his own shenanigans. They are 70% of his self-preservation senses.

He also loves a party scene and can often be found with Boom leading the charge towards any good time.

You know that sense of dread before performing in front of a crowd? The way your belly flips and your heart races and you're sure you're shaking hard enough for everyone to see? Trickee lives for that shit when he's in the band. The jitters can get to him, for sure, but afterwards, the man is LIVING from coming out alive on the other side, and he's sharing that thrill with everyone else in the band!

Ablaze

A Rock Troll who has lived among the Pop Trolls since he was a teenager. He stumbled across them while looking for a place to belong, and despite what he was raised to believe about Pop Trolls, he came to love their warmth and friendliness. So he moved in and let everyone assume he was just an odd-looking Pop Troll.

He an Trickee are housemates (podmates?)--not for romantic reasons but because they're longtime friends. When Trickee moved out of his family's home, Ablaze invited him over, and they liked the living arrangement enough to keep it permanent.

At first, Ablaze isn't open about his identity as a Rock Troll, but as he grew closer with the other members of Kismet, he came out to them. By the events of Trolls 2, he's open about being a Rock Troll.

Ablaze's personality sits somewhere in the realm of both chaotic and laid back. On the outside, he's usually pretty chill, but if Boom or Trickee have trouble afoot, Ablaze is usually there egging them on in the background, much to Branch's dismay.

He becomes extremely energetic when he's performing. The more exciting the song, the more vibrant he becomes! The energy is one of the reasons he loves pop music so much, but he can also get hyped from performing rock music. He gets kinda intense though lmao.

The first time the rest of Kismet sees him jamming to rock, they're like "OH. He's definitely a rock troll O_O" They support their rock-n-roll brethren 🤟😔

He has a special interest in fire, particularly fireworks. Back in Pop Village, he even made a business of it, making small rockets, sparklers, and other celebratory items for all your Pop party needs.

Anyway that's all the headcannon stuff I'll share for now. Hope y'all liked reading xD I'm really hoping my attention span will stick around long enough for me to share more in the future, because this fixation has been A Time™/pos

[pen-and-umbra]

Compilation spoilers below.

As the party delves deeper into the Temple of the Ancients, a vision of Sephiroth delivers a cryptic speech:

(“My fragmented mother, these errant worlds… All shall be one again.”)

“My fragmented mother” is a very deliberate choice of words. While the OG story touched on Jenova's fragmentation while dealing with the subject of Reunion, the plotbeats focused on Sephiroth and his failed copies rather than the creature itself. As the story unfolds, Cloud kills or severely injures Sephiroth during the Nibelheim mission, leading him to utilize clones and Jenova's remains after emerging at the Northern Crater in order to repair his maimed body. The same Ultimania Omega relayed that developers once thought about a scene where Sephiroth was revealed to have a Jenovaesque lower half. (The concept was eventually scrapped, but it would have added an even more grotesque element to Sephiroth's already terrifying being.)

(“It shall encompass worlds unbound by fate and histories unwritten. <...> My dominion shall reach into infinity”)

However, the Remake implies that the Reunion serves a different purpose. Or, more accurately, Sephiroth refers to a distinct event—the merging of worlds—as Reunion. According to Sephiroth's cryptic message, this is yet another foray into “godhood”. Not too unlike Ultimecia’s time compression, Sephiroth allegedly plans to join all the timelines into one to achieve “infinity/forever”. And yet, what does it have to do with “his fragmented mother”?

(“All made whole.”)

What if the true purpose of Remake's Reunion is not about “infinity” per se but about the “whole” part?

From the perspective of the OG, we are led to believe that the gathering of failed copies is the result of Sephiroth's will. However, Cetra's hologram delivers an interesting warning as the party traverses through the Temple of Ancients.

(“Heed well to our warning of that which is to come…<...> The reunion. When our adversary's scattered malignancy shall converge to plague the Planet once more.”)

The Cetra allegedly referred to Jenova's own inherent ability to reassemble its pieces (“Reunion”), whether conscious or unconscious. Unless the message was purely prophetic in nature, the statement presupposes that Jenova's body was already dispersed during the era of the Cetra, predating ShinRA's R&D department's experiments with alien cell injections. The Temple of Ancients narrates a gripping tale of Cetra's battle against the calamity-from-the-skies, with significant casualties suggesting a lasting conflict rather than a singular encounter.

Thus, it is possible that Jenova sustained injuries and lost some of its biologics before Cetra managed to seal it. Alternatively, fearing Jenova's reunification, the Cetran people may have “scattered” the creature in some way in order to hamper its resurrection. Whatever the case, at the end of the day, Jenova at the Nibelheim reactor appears incomplete or misshapen, missing a wing, and apparently suspended midway between morphing into a humanoid.

If the message is interpreted as a prophecy about the future, it demonstrates Cetran's extraordinary augury ability. However, assuming their knowledge of the future is precise, they never mention a different agent (Sephiroth), instead referring to their “celestial adversary” as the enemy who will plague the planet once more.

Anyway, spool forward, and in the age of ShinRA, the likes of Hollander and Hojo kept experimenting with Jenova's organic material, further disseminating alien cells. Several of its hosts have died. That includes both humans (Angeal or Gillian, for example) and monstrosities infused with J-cells that our party encounters (both organic and mechanical). While it is hard to estimate how many test subjects died during the course of the Jenova/SOLDIER Project, we can suppose that quite a number. It is currently unclear what happens to Jenova cells after the host dies; several instances appear to be convoluted (Angeal's mother allegedly dies alongside alien material, but Lucrecia claims that Jenova cells keep her alive). Let's assume that J-cells usually die with the host. As a result, an uncertain amount of organic material is missing from Jenova's body and will not make it to Reunion.

When combined with the Ancients' reference to “scattered” essence, Sephiroth's words about his fragmented mother make a lot more sense in the context of worlds merging. What if the primary aim of unchaining timelines was to acquire unattainable fragments of Jenova from hosts that are deceased within the primary timeline? Destiny's Crossroads, as a singularity of some kind, appears to be linked to all points in time and space. As a result of destroying Harbinger, our party is likely to have had an impact on PAST events (Zack's Last Stand). As a consequence, Zack lived. What if Jenovaroth's true goal is to alter branching timelines so that as many J-cell hosts as possible survive to converge at Northern Crater? Bringing scattered Jenova fragments across time and space to resurrect the entire entity and restore its power? The consequences of such a plan could indeed be disastrous.

Examining the issue from this perspective raises the question of who is truly in control and what kind of being will emerge after Reunion has run its course. It also raises the question of whether there are other ancient “deposits” of Jenova's organic material left from the Cetran War, if the warning in the Temple of Ancients was NOT a prophecy about ShinRA era.

👋 @pen-and-umbra

[sayafics]

Dance of Shadows - Chapter I

Hi guys, I hope you enjoy the first chapter of this series!

I know the teaser was an excerpt of another chapter after Aemma died, but I wanted to add some context/depth to Daemon and Saenyra's relationship before that, since there's such a long gap in the timeline before he returns to Kings Landing after beating the Crabfeeder.

I hope I got the timeline right, and I do hope this lives up to your expectations! Please let me know what you think, all comments and reblogs are appreciated <33 thank you to everyone who showed love on tha teaser excerpt!

Next Chapter

Masterlist

Saenyra had just spent the last few hours lounging in the library, browsing through books ranging from histories of the Seven Kingdoms and how they came to be, to the myths and legends of dragons and other beings which lurked the lands they inhabited and the seas they wished to rule, to charming scrawls of love written in between lines of literature and poetry.

She had finally found a book she was content with, eager to return to her room before divulging its contents. If she were to hurry, she was sure she would be able to finish before it was time for dinner.

With the book held in one hand, Saenyra used the other to gather the skirt of her dress. Whilst her sister preferred to adorn herself in gowns of black and red - the designs grand yet mature for her age, Saenyra deigned to dress herself in shades which resembled the skies on a warm autumn eve or the sun on a bright summer's day. She would parade around the Keep in hues of yellows and blues, greens and pinks - whatever it was that her heart so desired.

As she made her way through the Keep, eyes roving around the walls as she treaded through corridors and weaved past bowing knights and respectful Lords, she turned the corner only to bump into a solid figure.

Saenyra stumbled back, her hand letting go of her skirt to brush against her forehead as she took in the figure in front of her, a slight pout on her lips. Her eyes found her smudged reflection glinting in a shining and tainted armour, gleaming in the light of a new day but stained with the signs of a bloodied battle.

Her eyes continued their path until they met a set of familiar violet hues.

Oh.

Before her stood Daemon Targaryen, looking as though he had slaughtered an army single-handedly. His eyes were bright with the thrill of a good fight. He looked lively, and if she peered closely enough, she could see how he trembled with unbound energy that coursed through his veins.

At the sight of his niece, the one so quiet and quaint who looked up at him with wide eyes and parted lips, Daemon found an unfamiliar softness seep into his features, "niece, my apologies."

He rarely saw his little niece around the Keep when he did come, he preferred to keep company with whores and dragons.

It was with poorly hidden determination that Rhaenyra would find him, trailing his every step.

When Rhaenyra had found him before his bloodbath in the city, he had gifted her a necklace. A piece of shared ancestry, a piece of home. Now, glancing at Saenyra's bare throat, he wished it had adorned her instead.

Daemon was not one for apologies, even Saenyra was aware of that. So, to hear the words brought a heat upon her cheeks as her gaze became down-turned, "I fear I must apologise too, dear uncle. I must have become too distracted with my thoughts."

A smirk tugged at Daemon's lips at the sight of her bashfulness, amusement colouring his features as he spoke, a teasing tone tainting his innocent words, "ah yes. I believe it is only right if you make it up to me then, don't you think?"

Daemon had never spoken to his neice in such a way, too fearful of what his brother might do. Of what he, himself, might do.

Daemon could not be the reason his darling niece shed tears. He would not forgive himself if he was the reason she were to break.

Seanyra's head had never looked up so fast, eyes flitting around the corridor as she leaned closely, as though she was sharing a secret - "of course. Only if you promise not to tell Kepa." Father.

The easy slip of High Valyrian made Daemon heady with the desire to hear it again, and his eyes burned into her at the eagerness she showed as she was desperate to make things right. His smirk grew broader at the show of her naivety, but still - he would make no fool of his sweet neice, his little 'nyra.

"Anything for my Zaldrītsos." Little Dragon.

Her heart twisted slightly at the endearment, despite the heat that flushed her body once more - although said good-naturedly, the word was a stark reminder that the only dragon the girl had was the one pumping through her blood. It was a subtle reminder of the differences between Saenyra and her sister, of how Rhaenyra has conquered a dragon and emanated a fierce and challenging nature, whilst Saenyra was simply a dragon by name.

Daemon could see how her eyes dimmed at the word, hated how her smile wavered - the Seven Kingdoms would rave about the similarities between Daemon and Rhaenyra, how the two had fire running through their veins and charging their souls, how they would burn each other to ash should they get too close. And with Saenyra, they would whisper about her lack of spark, how she didn't have the charm of a Targaryen, nor the fire of one too.

All that tied her to the Targaryen line was her silver-white hair and lilac eyes.

But a part of Daemon, a dark and repressed echo that grew louder as the days went by, found that he preferred it as such. She was a calm summer evening, a quiet winter's day.

Daemon was chaos, and Saenyra was peace.

Her voice broke him out of his reverie, "so, what is it that you want?"

There was a curious smile on her lips, her eyes searching his as she became impatient. He huffed a laugh, teeth bared in a broad grin - "I guess you shall have to wait and see."

Daemon knew what he would ask. He had been thinking of doing so from the moment he had stepped foot back in King's Landing and seen his Saenyra. She had grown tall, her hair flowing down her back is careless ruffles, flowers twisted between the intricate braids that adorned her head as a circlet rested atop her brows. Her gowns were tight fitting, the neck would swoop low, or her arms would be bare of fabric, and sometimes, if he was lucky, careful patterns would be cut into the lining of her waist to reveal the milky skin that lay underneath.

Daemon would be lying if he said a part of him hadn't grown feral at the sight, something dark and desperate coming to life within him as his desires for Saenyra grew stronger.

It was something unexpected, especially by him. He had expected, if anyone, it would be Rhaenyra he would pursue. The two were in a silent battle for the place of heir at Viserys' behest, fervent prayers that the next child Aemma gave birth to would not be a boy. So it would make sense to present a united front. To present themselves as a joint option, a better choice to the other heirs Viserys would force his wife to bear.

But Rhaenyra and Daemon had the fire of a dragon running through them, and they would ultimately burn each other and leave nothing but destruction in their wake.

Daemon cleared his throat, forcing himself to stray from his traiterous thoughts and focus on his task - he had to attend the meeting with the Council, he had to reach Viserys before they filled his head with lies about Daemon - before they seeded doubt and had him sent from the Seven Kingdoms once more.

"I must take leave now, dear niece."

Daemon skirted around the girl, his golden cloak billowing behind him, the soft and bloodied material brushing against her cheek in an imitation of affection he longed to show himself. His moves were slow and sluggish as though he was hoping she'd stop him. And she did exactly that - "where are you going, Kepus?" Uncle.

He inhaled sharply at the Valyrian word, there was a frown on her lips as her head twisted in question and Daemon felt as though he would kneel for her and give all of himself right there, if she had simply asked.

Her hand came to hold his own as she tugged at his fingers. Daemon risked a glance down, eyes tracing over her nimble fingers and how they dwarfed against his own. She tugged again, "Kepus."

The word was stressed and elongated, hoping to catch the man's attention as he kept gazing off to a place far from where she could see.

"The King wants to see me," it wasn't a complete lie, but it was an easy one, "I wouldn't want to keep them waiting."

She nodded, understandingly. But there was a part of her left unsure by his words, Daemon was never one to obey with such ease - always at the ready to challenge those around him, including his own brother. Even if he was King.

It seemed, however, his words were enough to snap her into a state of disinterest, she turned away from him with such ease and continued on her way, a soft "I shall see you later, then," passed over her shoulders with a friendly smile as she walked away from him.

Daemon found he could do nothing but watch.

***

Saenyra hadn't left her chambers much after her encounter with her uncle - with no dragon to tend to, and the lack of duties as a second-born and the burden of being a girl, she had no pending responsibilities. Left in the confines of her room, she made due with what she had - her books.

There was not much else to do in King's Landing, with no Kingsguard assigned to her yet, she was not free to roam the cities that belonged to her father.

Saenyra ate in her chambers, despite the call for her to join her family in her father's - were she to join, she was sure the room would be full of praises for a successful Rhaenyra - whether it was how she was getting on with her lessons with the Septa or a new dragon-riding trick mastered, or whispers of possibilities of their future son - a new heir and a new King in the making.

Anything but Saenyra.

All throughout the hours of the night, even as she laid her head to rest, her mind would tiptoe back to the voice of her uncle.

Despite all his time in the Keep, and all his trips out, Saenyra had never been able to bond with her uncle the way she wishes she had. The way Rhaenyra had.

Daemon had been the Master of Laws, the Master of Coin, and now Commander of the City Watch. And throughout it all, she had been unable to bond with her uncle in a way she was desperate for ever since she was a child. She remained oblivious to his glances and heated stares, to the dark whispers in his mind and the temptation that lurked under every passive graze and touch.

It was instead Rhaenyra who found him, who bonded with him. Who found common ground in their love for riding and dragons and violence. Rhaenyra who adored her uncle as he adored her. As everyone adored her, in a way Saenyra craved for them to cherish her.

The two would gush over dragons and tales of battles and wars, a wistful tone taking over Rhaenyra's voice as she spewed questions at her uncle whenever he dined with them, and a look of admiration would sparkle in Daemon's eyes as he answered every question with ease.

Saenyra would sit quietly, never speaking aloud unless spoken to, and even that was quite rare. So, for her uncle to say he wants something from her? It was a surprise, indeed. And a bubbling sensation of guilt began to fester as she realised that she felt excitement build at the prospect. What would Rhaenyra think? Would she be hurt? Jealous?

Saenyra was not blind to how Rhaenyra was captivated by Daemon, how she craved him and called to him. Although Daemon was both of their uncle, there was an unspoken claim placed upon him from the moment Rhaenyra was old enough to articulate her fascination with the man. A silent boundary, a whispered challenge Saenyra had never dared to overstep. And she was worried she may now.

Would he ask to take her dragon-riding? Perhaps he would ask her to steal him some lemon cakes, as he had when she was much younger? Or maybe he would ask for a favour she couldn't provide.

Perhaps, he wanted her help to get Rhaenyra something. Or to tell her something.

Saenyra wasn't blind to Daemon's own infatuation with her sister, whether it was because of her claim to the throne or her violent beauty. The man was enamoured, even if he tried to deny so.

She resigned herself to the idea of having to wait until Daemon had finally asked her whatever it was he decided, a frustrated sigh escaping her as she rolled onto her side and faced the open balcony windows, watching as the soft winds blew a quiet tune through the curtains. Her eyes traced over the dark shadows of King's Landing, her eyes finding the moon and seeking comfort in its shallow glow.

With steady breaths, she fell asleep quickly, her mind flashing with images she had long learned to ignore. What good is being a dragon dreamer when you are unable to tame one?

***

In the cities of King's Landing, Daemon had taken to throwing himself in the arms of lust as he sought out ways to expel his energy and frustration in the brothels of Silk Street.

He had been here for perhaps hours now, gyrating and grinding against the softness of his paramour. Mysaria wasn't a quiet lover, her moans drawing an audience as he pounded relentlessly, chasing a high that escaped him at every turn.

No matter how hard he tried, how much he relied on his imagination - it wasn't what he wanted. This wasn't who he needed.

The meeting with the Small Council hadn't ended badly, but Otto's reminders of his duties to the Bronze Bitch of the Vale continued to follow him. A dark reminder that although his marriage was not consumated, in the eyes of the Seven Kingdoms and in the eyes of his brother, Daemon was a married man. And even if Targaryen men had taken on second wives before, he knew his brother would never accept such an ordeal.

But still, such moral obligations hadn't stopped him from chasing his pleasure in brothels and amongst whores. Yet, Mysaria's dark hair was a pitying reminder of the woman he felt no love nor lust for and so proved to be a dampener for his fun, amongst other things.

He sighed out of frustration, halting his hips as he laid his head against Mysaria's shoulders. He pulled out roughly, tugging a blanket over his naked form as he trudged towards the window in a hollowing mix of rage and despair. His eyes found the stars, seeking comfort in their luminous glow as his mind flitted over myths and legends of constellations etched into the dark sky.

Mysaria followed, consoling the man as she praised him. But her words had no effect on him, so she offered him something more instead.

"I could bring in another? Perhaps one with silver hair."

Daemon was tempted to say yes, urged to give in to his fantasies and imagine.

But it wouldn't be what he wanted. No, the whores of Silk Street - the bastards of the Targaryen line, although their hair grew white it wasn't the right shade. Too different for him to be able to pretend.

And Daemon didn't want to pretend.

Twisting his fingers and tugging strands of golden-white hair were a mere illusion for the girl he pretended he wanted.

The girl he truly desired was one he would never taint, her hair brighter and longer - the wisps of her soft, white hair were their own streaks of light, like beaming stars in the night sky.

No, it wouldn't be the same.

It wouldn't be what he wanted - what he needed.

Daemon Targaryen wanted Saenyra. But he knew he could not have her.

He would not take her, for fear of corrupting her. Of ruining her, and breaking her beyond repair.

Taglist: @marihoneywk @ahristata @gracielikegrapes @luanasrta

[hiyyihrts]

Parks, Picnics, and Pound Cake: A One-Shot Polin Fanfic

Summary:

Colin Bridgerton is gone for a month-long venture with his brother Benedict for artful inspiration outside of London. Benedict has the time of his life, happy to chat with locals and indulge in new dishes; while Colin can do nothing but write dozens of letters to his wife at home, wishing for nothing but to have her in his arms once again and to feel her warmth.

Colin is convinced she’ll drop everything upon his arrival and take him to their bedroom at once.

Penelope Bridgerton has other ideas for her husband.

AO3:

Colin Bridgerton is many, many things. He’s charismatic, charming, complimentary, practically any word you can think of that starts with a C could be used to describe him. Except for a specific word that comes to mind, but that is a bone to pick for another day. He’s always been partial to C-centric words, though, probably to do with his given name starting with the same. However, any word that could be taken as a compliment in the English alphabet is something that could most likely pertain to Colin.

The only word that no one close to him would use to attribute to his personality would be patience. Specifically, patience when it comes to traveling, and patience when it comes to anything regarding his wife, Penelope.

Since he had given up his lifestyle of traveling for months on end to be with his love, that patience had transmitted itself to something he had to apply to his relationship instead. But not in the sense that he was quick to annoyance or anger. While his wife sometimes tempted those emotions, he rarely came to direct anger anymore since being together. No, his patience stemmed into physical patience. His wife made him nothing short of a saint with the way she made him keep his hands to himself at all occasions, never allowing him to be untoward unless they were alone, in the private of their home or bedchamber of whatever residence they found themselves in.

His patience for this was hung by the skin of his teeth, day in and day out, because his wife was beautiful. She was a goddess come to life, a gorgeous woman that every man should have been desiring for years on end (this, however, was not allowed unless he himself was the one doing the desiring, because no man should dare look at her untoward until he was cold in the ground and long gone from this Earth).

Ringlets of sunset-colored hair and a button nose that he wanted to touch with his own, and deep, ocean-blue eyes he wanted to drown in endlessly, his Venus in her clam shell that would be remembered through his history and then some. The curves of her hips and the fullness of her bosom would be enough to make all of the Greek statues in existence weep with envy. He could lose himself in her beauty, and wit combined, for the rest of his days. Whether she was gazing out a parlor window, pained with the forces of laboring a child, or deep in pleasure writhing beneath him, she was beautiful- always a sight to behold.

And she was his. His love and wife and everything good in this world for him.

So when he’d been gone for a month with Benedict, he had done nothing but crave her. Every morning he awoke to lovely sunrise, with the sun shining in on him with a vibrancy different to the London skies, but it wasn’t quite as appealing to him unless she was beside him. And his brother interrupting the solitude of silence was also an annoyance he could have done without.

He wrote to her, of course, as they always did when they were away from one another for longer than necessary. Even as children they had done so, before they had ever thought of courtship or marriage or anything but being friends. Or, that’s how Colin remembers it at least. Penelope would beg to differ on the timelines and semantics, but that is a tale for another time. But nonetheless, he’d written to her, and she had not responded. He hadn’t expected her to, as the time it would take for the letters to arrive could vary greatly, and they’d been home by the time any of them had crossed into the country anyhow. Most of them were nothing but his longing for her and their child. He missed them both terribly, and he missed the intimacy he’d grown accustomed to from them both.

He’d been ecstatic to arrive back in London. It was all he could do not to jump out of the carriage once they’d neared London and run at his full speed all the way to his love. He hadn’t done that, though, obviously. He’d been patient. Like his wife would have wanted him to be. He’d waited a month to see her, after all; a few more hours wouldn’t hurt him. Although, they might make him combust from the inside with nerves, but nothing physically capable, anyhow.

The carriage ride had them stopping in front of Number Five like anticipated around mid-day. His wife was to be there with his mother, Violet, and Benedict’s wife, Sophie, upon arrival to greet them after their travels.

But once Colin stepped down from stifling heat of the carriage, his wife was no where to be seen. In fact, only his mother greeted them at the front gates, a large smile on her face. She took quick steps forward to embrace her two songs in one large embrace. They had to bend down to accompany her size, and both when released gave her a kiss on the cheek. Both men looked at her with the unasked question that hung in the air- Where were their wives?

Violet puffed out a quiet laugh, “Ah, it’s been so hot this morning that the ladies have had to keep cool inside. They said they would be on their way out in a moment, but it’s been a few bit since then.”

Colin looked up to the sky at that. The sun beat down uncharacteristically hot. Not a cloud lazed in the sky, making its beams feel all the more oppressive out in the open, unwelcome unless obscured by shade. He was starting to feel a prickle of sweat along his back standing outside, with hardly a breeze to cool him off. After a moment he heard the click of a door opening, and he stared past his mother to the front door. It took him a moment to adjust to not looking directly at the sun (stupid of him, he knows) but when he did he saw his wife and Sophie stepping down the walkway towards them.

Ah, how he missed his Pen.

He felt his breath leave his lungs in a rush and his heart swell in his chest, tight and aching for her. She wore a stunningly blue piece, light in color with white trim, and her hair laid coiled in an updo as it usually did most days. The color shown fiery in the sunlight while her dress shown pale, as if it were translucent in color and not a baby blue ensemble.

While Sophie ran to meet Benedict, Penelope hurriedly came to him with tears in her eyes threatening to fall and a radiant smile crossing her face. Penelope wasn’t one for theatrics or inappropriate advances, especially in public where eyes were always on one another, so she refrained from hugging him and halted with stuttering steps in front of him. She was mere centimeters away yet Colin felt as if an ocean lay between them. His fingers twitched at his sides to brush the tear that had fallen from its stubborn hold of her blue eyes, but he refrained. He was a gentlemen after all, her being his wife or no.

“Colin.” She said, smiling at him with flushed, rose colored cheeks.

”Pen.” He replied, with probably just as flushed skin as she, taking in every niche and sight of her he could.

A bead of sweat dropped from her hairline to her cheek, and ran down the line of her jaw to her, mixing with the stray tear, and landed on her chest. Colin’s eyes flitted to the droplet, now sliding down to the dip between her breasts and flowing to a place he’d dreamed about for weeks now. He licked his lips and sucked in a shaky breath. He forced his gaze to flit back up to hers, focusing on something other than the fantasies he’d had over his travels about her.

She must have been thinking the same, because her smile widened into a grin, and she had that teasing look in her eye she got when she was meant to playfully scold him. She must want to get out of the sight of his family as fast as he did.

She took a step closer and brushed her gloved fingers with his and said, “I’ve arranged for a picnic.”

———

“When you said you’d like for us to go for a picnic, I hadn’t thought you actually meant a picnic.” Colin grumbled.

He held Penelope’s arm in the crook of his elbow, trailing her along for a promenade along the river. He had to bend slightly to adjust to her height, but he made it work, even if it was slightly uncomfortable to stagger about. They nodded to other couples and families they passed by, a few mumbled names and “Mr. Bridgerton and Mrs. Bridgerton’s” following suite. He shifted the small basket his mother’s cook had arranged for them on his arm. He would never admit it out loud but it was becoming a bit tedious to carry. And by God was it hot. His hair kept sticking to his forehead and rivulets of sweat were running down his back at lightning speed. He sure Penelope wasn’t fairing much better. The fan in her hand had been working overtime to keep a modicum of her complexion less flushed, but it would be of no use. She was prone to a red tinge as it was, and the heat only accentuated the color.

“Don’t be melancholy, Colin. I thought it’d be nice for us to promenade after so long away from one another. It’s also a nice day out. We should enjoy it while it lasts.” Penelope remarked, always trying to look for the positive in any situation.

He grunted in reply, trying not to yank her arm up as he maneuvered the basket again.

”I rather thought there’d be other things on your mind after not seeing your husband for a month rather than a damned promenade.”

Penelope swatted at his arm harshly, “Colin Bridgerton, do not speak that way.” She lowered her voice to a hissed whisper, “Not while we’re in public, at the very least.”

He fought the urge to roll his eyes, but held his tongue. She was right, of course, but she had a way of bringing out his fallacies like no other that made him want to curse as if it were his first profession.

“Besides, what else would you have had in mind if not a nice promenade?” Her tone remained aloof as she asked the question, but her eyes moved too quickly away from his own to warrant any other response except for a cheeky remark.

He stepped slightly closer to her side, pulling her into him, slowing their walk to a crawl. He leaned down until his breath hit the shell of her ear, and said, “I’m sure we can think of a few ideas, my love.”

She did not reply, yet her chest rose and fell quickly, and her hold on his arm tightened slightly. Colin looked down to her gloved hand fisted into his coat sleeve, and he knew some chord had been struck.

Penelope cleared her throat and looked off to to the distance, focusing on some geese or tuft of grass that held no actual significance to her. It was just a way to distract herself from what her husband was implying to her out in the open. A cherry red flush creeped up her neck and Colin was quick to take notice.

He bit his lip to contain his smile, pulling her closer to his side. Or, at the very least as much as social propriety allowed between a husband and wife in public. If anything she could blame the flaming of her skin to the scorching sun overhead, and no one would be none the wiser.

But they would know, of course. And, God, he wanted this picnic to be over with now more than ever.

Colin quickened their pace along the walkway, foregoing minimal formalities if they passed by anyone walking towards them. Spotting a thicket of trees that led into a more dense forest ahead of them, he steered them off the popular path and pushed his wife towards a small dirt step way, Penelope uttering a snapped “Colin!” as he did.

As they traveled further into the forest, Colin realized that the path he’d chosen was hardly even a path at all. It was an unclear rut of rocks and packed dirt, and both him and Penelope struggled to work their way through the thicket. The only reason he’d led them this way was because he knew of a small, secluded clearing he’d discovered in his youth with his brothers. They’d hide out here to get away from their Mother during promenades, if they could help it at all.

Violet never caught on to their antics, so it’s even more likely no one else would find him and his wife here, either. And that, in the moment for Colin, was the most glorious thought he’d ever had.

Penelope stumbled a few times, her skirts catching on fallen branches and thickets. Colin was there to hold her up with an arm wrapped around her waist in support, feeling her let go of her own weight to have him hold her. He relished in it, being able to feel the curve of her stomach and grip her hip through the fabric of her gown, almost as if he could feel her skin between his finger instead.

Soon. Soon he would be able to feel her in full.

When they finally reached the end of the path, Penelope gasped, surprised to see a clearing of grass dotted with blooms of flowers all around. A tree bore overhead a portion of the clearing, providing some shade from the sweltering sun even further above.

“Oh Colin, it’s beautiful.” She said.

He grinned.

And led her to the patch beneath the tree, setting the basket down at his feet and opening it to see if a blanket had been provided for them to sit on. Of course, there was, as his mother’s cook and maids were always very meticulous when it came towards her children. There weren’t many items in the basket, as the blanket took up most of the room, but there were a few sandwiches and some lemon pound cake for dessert. No beverages, though. Alas, some moments couldn’t always be perfect.

Birds chirped a melody above their heads, and the taller grass swayed in the slight breeze that had steadily built as the day dragged on. Colin laid the thin blanket out as flat as he could manage, and held his wife’s hands as she sat herself down and bent her legs underneath her. She fixed her skirts to splay out in a circle around her, and it seemed to swallow her short frame whole, and her eyes buzzed with a shine of excitement and love.

Oh, how he’d missed her.

Sitting himself down beside her, he divided their portions using the utensils that had been provided, and they ate quietly. The silence of the moment and the solitude of the clearing washed over them, calm and resolute. He’d missed his wife’s body, yes, how could he never not miss the shape of her and the feel of her pressed against him? He’d have to be mad to think otherwise. But, he would never be remised to admit that he missed her company alone even more so. Her whit and humor were what brought a smile to his lips first thing in the morning. Her light laughter at something he’d said or something their child had done in learning were what made him want to walk this Earth endlessly. He’d do anything to keep his wife and child in his life for as long as he could. So, yes, he missed her body, but he missed her soul even more.

Beside him Penelope delicately took her gloves off to eat her dessert. The sandwiches hadn’t been too messy for her, so she’d kept them on, but the dessert was too hearty and coated with melting icing. She picked a slice up placed between her ring, forefinger, and thumb, gripping it with an intensity even he found admiring. He appreciated someone as involved with their food as he was.

He watched as she held the slice to her mouth and took a bite from it, chewing methodically, not taking notice to the pair of eyes trained on her movements. A dribble of icing coated the corner of her lips. The tip of Penelope’s tongue darted out to lick it away, trailing across her plump bottom lip and sweeping along the other corner. She hummed in approval as she swallowed the first bite- and Colin felt it rumble low in his groin.

She continued eating her cake, oblivious to her husband’s molten gaze holding her captive. The heat was stifling, even while in the shade, and her slice of lemon cake wasn’t immune to its forces. The icing that the cook had probably slaved over in the early hours of this days morning was undone in mere minutes outside. It trickled down slowly between Penelope’s fingers, drawing a line down her palm to the delicate bend of her wrist. And Colin’s eyes followed relentlessly. Her gloves were gone, and her arms were bare and pale and glowing with lemon-glazed goodness. She allowed the icing to drip and drop and flow down her fingers and hand while her husband’s resolve faded to dust.

His patience for her finally snapped when she opened her mouth and inched her fingertips towards her outstretched tongue. Colin grasped her forearm and hurled her forward. Penelope let out a burble of words that didn’t quite form coherently into anything and fell into her husband’s chest and into his personal space. Her left hand was held in Colin’s iron grip, and her right landed precariously on his thigh, dangerously close to his throbbing need.

Patience, patience, Colin.

Penelope’s eyes flitted back and forth from Colin’s hold on her to his own heady gaze. His eyes darkened and he leaned in to her icing-covered fingers. His wife’s breath puffed out, hot and smelling faintly of lemon, against his lips, then hitched when he darted his tongue out to lick at the pad of her fingers. Her cheeks flushed bright red. Her hand on his thigh clenched into a fist, holding tight to the thick fabric. Colin took the pad fully into his mouth, sucking lightly, bobbing his head down one knuckle, then the next, until her finger was completely between his lips and his tongue circled it clean. When he finished with the first finger, he moved to the next, then to her thumb, licking and swirling as if he were between her legs and sucking the sensitive bud hidden within her folds. Satisfied with the state of her fingers, he lapped at her palm, then dipped his head down to lick and bite at the thin skin of her wrist.

She let out a whimper from her parted lips, leaning impossibly forward until her eyes were level with his and their mouths were centimeters apart. Colin continued his kitten licks along her palm, sighing out against her skin, “You cannot know what you do to me, my dear.” Her head tilted so her lips could graze the stubble along his cheek, carving a path to the lobe of his ear, which she took between her teeth for a moment. Colin fought the urge to tip his head back and let her work her plump, radiant lips at the line of his jaw, a low groan forming in the back of his throat.

Penelope’s breath hit the shell of his ear, and it made him shiver in the heat of the summer day, “Mr. Bridgerton, you forget that I know all in this town and relationship.”

Colin’s resolve snapped along with his patience, thrown to the wind and gone for the while. He crushed her flush to him, finding her lips as quickly as he could in his haste. It was nothing but teeth and open mouths, carnal and anything short of a romantic, lingering kiss. He wanted her, and she wanted him. The romantics would have to wait for later.

She moaned into his mouth the moment his tongue touched hers, whining and full of need. Her breasts pushed against his chest in the best way, and her hand roamed in altering grips in his hair, her other moving closer and closer to his hard on for her. Sweat was already forming on their temples, running in rivulets down their cheeks and stinging their eyes when they opened to find a place the other wanted to devour. Penelope lingered on his lips at first, then she changed her mind and mouthed at the curve of his jaw and neck. Colin’s eyes darted to the deep cleavage exposed by her position against him, hunger clouding his vision. They were practically ripping the seams of her dress, begging for them to be taken into his mouth and worshipped.

His fingers moved aptly towards the few buttons that trapped her inside the suffocating gown, undoing them with a swiftness that even a seamstress would be impressed by. Before he pulled it down, he grabbed Penelope by her bottom and heaved her into his lap, making an attempt for her to straddle his waist. She obliged, doing her best to hike the fabric of her dress up and around her thighs. Though she participated in the action, her words were hesitant, not as confident as she’d been a moment ago whispering into this ear.

“Colin-“ He dragged her dress down her shoulders, helping her slide her arms out of the holes. “We’re in public!” Colin undid the bindings of her bodice, though simple in style, it was hard to maneuver through. He grunted at her as he struggled to undo the ties, his fingers fumbling and shaking with nerves.

”It does not matter.”

”But what if someone sees-“ She hissed.

”They do not matter!” Colin growled, ripping the bodice in frustration and tearing it off of Penelope in one fell swoop. The gasp that escaped her turned in to a low moan as Colin cupped at her breasts.

“Finally.” He murmured, dipping his head to take one of her nipples into his mouth, teething it to a hard bud. She arched into him, her legs tightening around his waist and cried out.

Colin released her at the sound, glancing up through his lashes at his wife, deep cherry red cheeks and parted lips kissed raw and swollen. He made sure to accentuate each breath against her goose-fleshed skin as he said “If you don’t want someone to find us, my dear, you need to be quiet.”

She whined and rocked her hips down. “Make me, please, Colin.”

Christ above, Penelope Bridgerton was going to drive him to absolute madness.

He flashed her a grin, giving her a quick kiss on her lips and cheek. “Trust me, love. I imagine what I plan will have it nigh impossible for you to keep your pleasures at bay.” Her response was to grind on his clothed length.

He strained against his breeches, aching and uncomfortable in its entrapment. He shifted to lower Penelope onto her back on the blanket so he could remove his garments. She moved to cover her top with her arms, but a sharp glare from Colin had her lowering her arms to lay on either side of her head instead. Her hair laid like an orange halo around her, blending in to the shade of red her skin was turning at being exposed. Her skirts had draped down over her legs again, covering her deliciously decadent thighs. It irked Colin, and Penelope could notice. She quirked a brow at him in question of if he was going to act on it.

Slowly, he took the hem of her skirts and lifted it back up. He made sure to graze along her legs with his fingers as he did, and also making sure his wife didn’t cross her knees together in embarrassment at her womanhood showing so openly. No undergarments were in sight, letting Colin take in all of Penelope’s beautiful intimates. He swallowed at how she dripped with need, with want, for him, no less. It was enough to make a man fall to his knees in devotion.

Colin licked his dry lips, sucking in a sharp breath of air. He caught Penelope’s gaze and held it as he went to reveal himself. His fingers fumbled in anticipation, but he eventually got his breeches down to his thighs, his member springing free finally after a month of longing to be sheathed in his wife for eternity. No matter how many times they did this he always felt the giddy anticipation of a green boy in love for the first time. It was how Penelope always made him feel, and had made him feel, for many years now.

He shuffled to hover over Penelope, settling himself between her legs, taking her dress and hiking it further over her legs. Her chest heaved up and down as his fingers brushed stray hairs from her face. He nodded at her for reassurance, and she nodded subtly back, cheeks flushing like a young maiden in love.

He first touched her with his fingers, feeling her heat and wetness along the pads, feeling her in her most vulnerable areas. He wanted to make the slide as painless as possible for her, of course. He wasn’t going to get pleasure if she wasn’t feeling it as well. When he inserted his finger down to the knuckle she sighed, closing her eyes as he crooked it inside her, in and out again. He paused after a moment to insert another, and paused every few menstruation’s to wet his length for her. Every time he pulled out she opened her eyes to make sure he was coming back, mewling at him when he inserted his fingers inside her again. She bucked her hips up when he had three in all to their knuckles, not quite reaching that bundle of nerves she needed him to, but so close all the same. Every time he neared it she bucked up into him, mouth hung open in pleasure.

Colin watched her writhe beneath him until she was close, then he stopped abruptly. She looked at him with both a mix of rage and the most adorable pout of her lips she could muster, and he couldn’t help but find it endearing.

“I think you’re ready, now.” He grinned at her, adjusting himself and lining up to her entrance.

She did nothing but huff at him, but he noticed she inched her hips closer and closer to him. As the tip of his shaft entered her, he trembled, shook with the pleasure of feeling her around him again. He’d thought about it, dreamed about it, and had even written about his want to be buried within her over his time away. He was a man in love and a man without for so long, it was bound to make him practically delirious with desire when he arrived home.

And now he was here, not dreaming, not imaging it, but here with his wife. In the park, on a picnic in a secluded area of the woods, eating lemon pound cake, and fucking his wife like they’d never get the chance to again. He tried to be gentle as he fully sheathed himself in her, grinding his hips lightly against her in an effort to be slow. Once he was in all the way, they both paused, breathing heavy, staring into the other’s deep, blue eyes.

This was love. This moment right here. It wasn’t the main one, but it was love in its purest form, in its most vulnerable and pivotal. They were both exposed in more ways than one, but they were exposed together, with one another.

Colin cupped Penelope’s cheek with his palm, brushing his thumb along her swollen lips. “Open for me, love.” And she did. Her lips parted and he slipped two of his fingers lightly inside, resting the pads of them on her tongue. Her teeth grazed his skin, not unpleasantly. “Now close.” He ordered. And she wrapped her lips around his digits, holding them there in place. His slid his hips back to slide out of her, the air hitting his heated skin and making him shiver again. He took his other hand to hold Penelope’s next to her head, clasping their fingers together and intertwining them, and he squeezed.

Penelope bobbed her head in a nod, and Colin slammed back into her with a force he’d been holding back on until now. He buried himself in and out of her relentlessly, slamming into her for any sort of relief he could find for his aching cock. Penelope bit down on his fingers as he hurried his pace, moaning with each hit inside her, squeezing Colin’s hand in a death grip that he was sure to leave bruises along the back of his hand when they were done. She tried to thrash her head to the side, but Colin’s hold on her with his fingers prevented her from doing so.

She was slick and warm for him, making his relentless pace in and out of her an easy slide. It spurred him on, knowing she was this wet for him and only him, and that she’d only be this way for him always. No one else would be privy to how she looked when she was on the flush of an orgasm, or when she was close to screaming from his pleasuring, nor would anyone ever witness how utterly wrecked he must look lusting over her, his wife, his everything to him.

Colin kept his pace, fraught at the thought of tiring himself out after waiting so long for her. He was close, embarrassingly close for such a short time, and he couldn’t hold himself back from wanting to drive into Penelope with wild abandon. He mumbles a sorry as he rips his fingers from their hold in her mouth and unclasps their hands so he can grip her hips instead. He rocks back to sit on the balls of his heels, lifting Penelope’s hips up so he can slam into her at an angle now, sheathing himself deeper and deeper into her for relief.

Now he was hitting that sweet spot of hers he loved so much, her cries inaudible as she reaches her peak. She lets out the tiniest of moans when she comes, tightening around Colin’s cock inside her. And it’s enough to send him spiraling. He spills into her soon after, her whines urging him on and keeping him ramming into her until he’s spent completely.

When he’s through, Colin collapses on top of his wife, caging her in with his frame. They both heave with exhaustion, the clearing silent but for their labored breathing. Colin goes soft inside her, but he doesn’t want to pull out. He enjoys her warmth, arousal or not, and wants to relish in this moment with her.

Colin hears a sniffle in his ear. He whips his head up to see his wife crying, arousal flushed cheeks streaked with tears.

“Pen, what is it? What’s wrong?” He inquires, worried he’d done something to hurt her in his endeavors.

Penelope wipes at her eyes, shaking her head. Colin holds himself up, ready to pull out of her, but she stops him, gripping his forearm tightly.

“No, no. Stay, please.” She says.

He stills, stiff in her hold.

”Please, Pen, tell me what did I do wrong?”

Her eyes grow watery again and her lips wiggle in a pout. She wraps her arms around Colin’s neck and yanks him down to her, maneuvering his head to rest in the crook of her neck. He feels more tears wet his cheeks as they fall between them.

“I… I just missed you so much, Colin.” Penelope confesses.

That’s when Colin realizes that he hadn’t actually done anything to hurt his wife. She just missed him. As he missed her. This was what he loved about his love, this was what love meant to him. It meant Penelope loving him for him. It meant Penelope missing him. It meant Penelope going along with his antics of fucking in a public park, amongst the eyes of God and men alike.

She was his. And he was hers. She was home.

———

“Colin, did you leave my basket at the park?”

Violet questioned her son upon his arrival to Number Five. He arrived alone. With no basket, and no wife in sight.

“No, no, mother, I have it right here.” He hastily places it on the table next to his mother where she sits in the drawing room, observing her son.

”You were gone for quite a while.” She remarks.

Colin nods, “We haven’t seen one another for quite a while.”

”Hm.” Violent hums.

”Well then, mother, I’ll be taking my leave. It was lovely to see you again.”

Her son kisses her on the cheek and then walks out of the room. If she notices the blush that crept along his neck at her questioning, she doesn’t say.

And if her cook finds a ripped bodice bundled up in the blanket within the picnic basket later on in the week, they certainly do not say so.

[zahri-melitor]

So I’m going to provide Potted Fanon Histories, one character at a time. Putting this all into a single timeline was too messy. If you have additions to give, would love to hear them.

Let’s start with Robin One, DICK GRAYSON.

Dick, 8-12: Haly's Circus. (Exactly who is in the crowd is up for debate. Definitely Bruce. Arguably half of DC at this point)

Dick, 8-12: Dick becomes Robin. Exactly how old Dick is for this varies depending on if the writer wants to think about Tiny Child Dick.

Dick, 14-15: Teen Titans get together. The line up of this Titans may vary but frequently looks far more NTT than Fab Five. Garth for instance is almost certainly not present.

Dick, 18-20: Bruce fires Dick or has a massive fight with him (it’s definitely getting fired, Dick does not quit), usually over Dick being attacked by the Joker. Sometimes over Dick being shot by Two-Face.

Dick’s time as Robin: largely an impenetrable black hole. He and Bruce did everything together, they were the best, etc etc. Dick calls Clark “Uncle Clark” and Diana “Aunt Diana”. Only storylines referenced will be sneaking out to try and kill Zucco, and maybe the Hanging Judge with Two-Face.

Dick’s time with the Teen Titans: As likely to just be ‘remembered highlights of Teen Titans 2003 (cartoon)’ as actual comics events, but if they are comics events it’s the highlights of NTT: Trigon, Brother Blood, Judas Contract, plus Snowbirds Don’t Fly. They’re based in New York. Dick’s closest friendship is with Wally.

Optional teen Dick storyline: ‘Dick was Slade’s apprentice!’ via some horrible mashing of Devin Grayson’s Renegade arc with TT03 (cartoon)’s Red X arc. Dick spent 6 months or so under Slade’s mental control.

Second optional teen Dick storyline: AU where he was a Talon

Dick, 20: after being fired/fighting with Bruce, Dick becomes Nightwing and moves to Bludhaven immediately. He is either working as a gymnastics teacher or training to become a cop.

Dick, still 20: goes on a ski trip with Jason.

Dick, 21: probably was a relationship with Kory. They broke up. The reasons why are unknown, or implied to be due to Mirage. If you’re really lucky there’s a joke about the wedding. (yes. Events happen in this listed order)

Dick, 21: in space when Jason dies. Has a guilt complex over this forever.

Dick, mid 20s: tried to kill the Joker at some point. The Joker lived. Little context is given for this other than maybe mentioning that Joker mentioned Jason’s death. This is the single event that has occurred during the 90s and 2000s between ADITF and UTRH.

Dick, mid 20s: is (probably) a cop. Conflict with Blockbuster, Blockbuster dies, Dick is ‘raped in the rain’ by Catalina Flores. Whether anyone remembers she is Tarantula is up for debate. This is the single thing Catalina ever does.

Subsequent to this, Dick’s just…hanging around Gotham and Bludhaven. Not a single event in Nightwing vol 1 after Nightwing 93 occurs. He’s around the Batcave helping Bruce track Jason down during Under the Red Hood.

Dick, slightly later mid 20s: becomes Batman while Bruce is dead. Insert preferred flavour of Red Robin 1 angst here. Battle for the Cowl may happen, but if it does the only aspect of it involving Dick was that Dick was reluctant to become Batman.

Dick mid 20s: raises Damian all on his own! They become incredibly close immediately and Damian never bonds properly with Bruce or SHOULD do so, as Dick’s Damian’s real dad.

Dick later 20s: Spyral arc MAY have happened. It was traumatic. Dick is now back as Nightwing.

Dick, currently: Dick has remained Nightwing since either stopping being Batman or since Spyral. No other events have occurred. He lives in Bludhaven, drops in at the Manor constantly and cheerfully teases his brothers. He may have shared custody of Damian and be living at the Manor with him part time. 

Dick, currently: is in a relationship with pick one - Barbara, Kory or Wally. If in a relationship with Wally, no event in the Flash has ever occurred. Linda who?

[purpleajisai]

The history in fiction: Parallels between historical Japan and the Narutoverse

Part 1: The era of the Six Paths

Naruto may not be a historical fiction and most people will think that the utmost historical reference in the series is the fact that ninja were a thing in feudal Japan. But what if I told you that there is an insane amount of historical parallels in the series? That we could actually place the events of the main timeline within real periods of Japanese history? In this two-part series, I’ll be explaining the many parallels, references and design inspirations of the main events and generations that shaped the course of the series that we all know and love. I’ll start with the era of the Six Paths (starting from Kaguya and ending with Indra and Ashura), and part 2 will be about the Warring States (dynamic between the Senju and Uchiha). At the end of each part, I’ll add useful links so that you can deepen your investigation and see my sources. Without further ado, let’s start overanalyzing.

Historical references and parallels in character design and dynamics

I’d place this particular era of the Narutoverse in the Heian period of Japan (or at least the most important people, the brothers Indra and Ashura). Considering that we’re spanning 3 generations here, I’ll separate the individuals involved in the following way:

Kaguya: End of Nara period (710 AD - 784 AD)

Hagoromo and Hamura: Early Heian period (794 AD - 1185 AD)

Indra and Ashura: Heian period (794 AD - 1185 AD)

Kaguya

On a side note, I’d like to add that I’m not really considering Tenji in the list above because he’s an anime only character. However, his case caught my eye so I’ll discuss him as well. Let’s start by evaluating Kaguya and Tenji then. Kaguya’s character design is a very classical archetype of Heian beauty standards and clothing. Long, straight hair with flowy kimono and a delicate face. Her unusual eyebrows are no coincidence as well, as in the Heian period the practice of hikimayu was commonplace in noblewomen. 

"Hiki means "pull" and mayu means "eyebrows". Aristocratic women used to pluck or shave their eyebrows and paint new ones using a powdered ink called haizumi, which was made of soot from sesame or rapeseed oils." (source)

Left: Filler anime episode // Right: Manga panel

Above: Hikimayu through the ages of Japan

Another interesting fact that I’d like to point out is that Kaguya is a character with striking similarity to a Japanese folk tale, in this case the Tale of Princess Kaguya (Kaguyahime no monogatari), whose origin we can trace back to Heian Japan. The Tale of Princess Kaguya tells the story of a little baby girl who “fell from the skies” and was found by a couple of old farmers inside of a bamboo. She grew up to be extremely beautiful and was courted by lots of noblemen, but she rejected them all insisting that somebody would come for her, as she looked at the moon. Of course, Naruto provides us with a different ending to the story but this similarity can’t be overlooked.

Above: "The Receding Princess" from The Japanese Fairy Book, 1908

Moving on to Tenji, it gets a bit more complicated to place him in an exact historical moment as he has elements of many different periods. His hairstyle resembles the styling of the Jomon period, whereas the entire setting in the filler episodes are more similar to the Nara period with the many small kingdoms fighting for dominance within a vast land, just like pre-unification Japan. Therefore, I place Kaguya and Tenji at the end of the Nara period, because we see how Kaguya takes over Tenji’s rulership and is regarded as a noblewoman after she casts the first Infinite Tsukuyomi. I have to rely on some filler in this case because otherwise I can’t find a logical explanation as to why Hagoromo was so well settled and had a large group of people following his teachings if it wasn’t for Kaguya ruling some land that originally belonged to Tenji. 

Hagoromo and Hamura

Let’s start with the second generation. Following the events of the end of the Nara period I quoted in the previous section, Hagoromo and Hamura would go in the beginning of the Heian period. Their character designs feature long, flowy tunics without a visible belt. Here you have an image of men’s clothes through Japanese history, the third one being a feudal lord of the Heian period. Compare and contrast with these anime and manga images.

Above: “Men’s Japanese clothes” by Glimja

Left: Filler anime episode with both // Right: Hagoromo manga panel

Again, since we get very few manga panels related to Hagoromo and his sons, I’ll refer once again to the filler episodes where he is shown as the ruler of a village. The spot within the Heian period in which I’m placing Hagoromo would be around 100 years after the Taika reforms which established one of the first codes of law in Japan and (Taihō code) and divided the country in provinces ruled by feudal lords. Curiously, around the time where the Taika reforms happened, there was an emperor called Tenji. 

Indra and Ashura

The third generation of the alien-human hybrids is here, and I place them in the Heian period as well. My main reason to consider Indra and Ashura in the Heian period is the fact that this is the exact time period where the samurai originate. A common misconception is that a samurai is a Japanese warrior highly trained in the martial arts and weapons. While this statement holds some truth, the samurai were the military social class of feudal Japan, which means that there were people who were of the samurai class but had never touched a weapon in their lives. Therefore, samurai clans were not entirely composed by warriors but also had a number of people who lived a more “civilian” lifestyle. And you may be wondering, “what do the historical samurai have to do with the ninja that we see in Naruto?”. The answer is: more than you think. Historically speaking, the ninja is a samurai specialised in stealth and sneaking, the only difference with the Naruto universe is that the ninja we know and love from the show possess chakra and perform techniques with that. 

The story of Indra and Ashura is strongly tied to the origin of ninja clans in Naruto, just as the Heian period is the origin of the samurai clans. From this time period I’d like to highlight the myth of Minamoto no Yorimitsu, more commonly known as Minamoto no Raiko. His story says that he slayed demons (yes, really) and saved many maidens from being abused by drunk oni with his great sword, Dojigiri Yasutsuna. The difference between myth and legend is that myths hold some kind of historical fact whereas legends are purely fictional. Minamoto no Raiko has been heavily mythified and his story sounds unbelievable or too much like a fantasy story until you realise that he did exist and that his sword is kept in a museum. Doesn’t this resemble how the origins of ninja in Naruto are almost like fantasy stories up until Hagoromo shows up in the 4th war and explains that everything was real all along? 

Above: Ukiyo-e of Minamoto no Raiko and others fighting the demon Shuten Doji.

Just as Minamoto no Raiko is considered the first samurai, Indra could be considered the first shinobi. He was the first to channel and shape chakra to create jutsu, and he was considered as part of the legends surrounding Hagoromo. Please compare these two panel sequences, one is from earlier in the story and the second one is Hagoromo’s version. 

The brothers’ character design can also be correlated with the Heian period. Indra’s eyebrows seem to be real but resemble the hikimayu design of Kaguya’s eyebrows, however he does add eye makeup. The people who wore makeup in the Heian period were nobles (mostly noblewomen), once again reinforcing my point that this family started out as feudal lords and eventually fused with the warrior class, becoming ninja clans. Although the character design for Indra and Ashura isn’t 100% equal to Heian Japan’s male clothing, the inspiration is subtle yet visible. I’d say that the inspiration is mostly for the plot rather than the appearance of the character. If you’d like to see more real Heian period clothing, this link has recreations of the outfits of the characters in the Tale of Genji, by Murasaki Shikibu.

Sources

These are some useful links that I’ve referred to while writing this post. I’d like to invite you to read them if you’d like to do further research on the beautiful history of Japan.

https://www.britannica.com/biography/Tenji

https://www.britannica.com/event/Taika-era-reforms

https://www.japanhousela.com/articles/princess-kaguya-a-tale-for-the-ages

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hikimayu#:~:text=Hiki means "pull" and mayu,from sesame or rapeseed oils.

https://www.thoughtco.com/beauty-in-heian-japan-195557

https://history.hanover.edu/hhr/22/HHR2022miller.pdf

https://www.tumblr.com/heian-collection/30869762024/beauty-ideal-in-heian-japan?source=share

https://thegate12.com/article/264

Thanks for reading! Stay tuned for part 2, the Warring States era. Special thanks to @al-hekima-madara-blog for actually motivating me to write all of this down 💜

[odditycircus-2002]

Medusa!Reader and Shang Tsung in Mortal Kombat 1 Part 12

Spoilers for MK 1 Story Mode: Proceed with Caution

PREVIOUS

NEXT

Sooo, given how this whole ending is, just bear with me here, given there will be an alternate version of you. Still, I'll do my best to try and keep it coherent for y'all. Now onwards!

When Lui Kang recruited you to fight against your Titan self and Titan Shang Tsung, you volunteered to be part of his army to fight against the evil Titans. That is primarily because of the fact that they threaten the timeline YOU live in! Luckily, as mentioned before, you wouldn't be fighting alone; you'd be fighting with endless variants of people you know across timelines, including a version of you that appeared to be a heavenly figure.

At the top of the Temple, standing beside Titan Shang Tsung, is your Titan counterpart, who was grinning like a mad woman at the thought of the bloodshed that would take place. You hear her speaking to Lui Kang,

"Oh, but some things never change, Lui Kang. No matter how much you want to deny it. History has a way of repeating itself, such as now.

Titan Y/N claps her hands in amusement as she encourages Titan Shang Tsung as he reveals the allies they both have gathered throughout multiple timelines. Titan Y/N stood with her husband and a Titan Quan-chi as they signaled for their army to attack; in response, your allies charged up the pyramid. As the battle at the Argus's Temple commences, you feel as if everything you did and what happened didn't happen simultaneously.

You couldn't fly up the temple because the skies were packed with other flying Kombatants and projectiles. So you fought and petrified past Kung Laos, Kenshis, Shaos, Barakas, Sub-Zeros, and Rains. Although it wasn't just variant of people you know that you had to fight. The first one you had to face was Sindel, or at least a Sindel mixed with Zateran blood judging from her scaley appearance and how she vomited acid at you mixed with her banshee shriek. After defeating her, you ran off without another word.

Soon after confronting the Reptilian Empress, a Shao/Sub-Zero hybrid sends you to the ground.

"No healer will be able to fix you once I'm through."

While it was cathartic for you to fight another Shao, as you'll never tire of making the brute suffer, the ice he commanded was a bitch for your reptilian skin. Yet, you managed to prevail by slicing off that Shao's head. You had no time to revel in your victory when you had to run from a large group of Titan Shang Tsung's minions. You got a stab in on an evil Kenshi while running from them, though. Shortly after, you're then jumped by a Baraka and Scorpion hybrid.

"We'll see who's fangs are deadlier."

While you were a bit relieved to not be fighting against a Cryomancer, fighting against a Pyromancer wasn't a pleasant experience. Especially one that resembles your dear Baraka. You had no time to dwell on any regret before a blonde woman with a robotic eye that shoots devastating lasers starts to attack you with a large knife. Luckily your blade proved to be sharper as you disabled the blonde's eye by stabbing her in the eye and through the head. Shortly after, you go up against a Kenshi who seems to have mastered Hydromancy. You had to get a bit creative there because of how your petrifying gaze wouldn't work on him. So, the old-fashioned poison would do the trick.

If only the same could be said for the Goro that attacks you with a Warhammer in each arm. Yet, you're then saved by not one or two but three different versions of Johnny Cage, one of them dressed like some sort of ninja errr mime?

"Much appreciated; good health to you all!"

You say to them before you're confronted by a Reiko/Quan-chi hybrid. Like both of his components, he was overly confident in his skills. After defeating him, you climb higher up the pyramid only to be confronted with four people you've never met, all dressed in yellow and black uniforms. Fortunately, you didn't have to fight them alone before another Kitana, this one who wore two buns in her hair and was dressed in a way fitting for the divine, mowed the entire group down effortlessly.

"Oh, thank you so much, your Majesty."

Kitana then got knocked down by some random kombatant who came out of nowhere. After getting through a couple more bizarre hybrids, you were close enough to the top to see your Titan Y/N standing with the Deadly Alliance. The trio, seeing how close you are to the top, combine their magics to throw a huge ball of plasma down the pyramid in your direction. You managed to throw yourself out of the way but at the cost of a large group of people being obliterated. After tumbling down a dozen steps, you're soon confronted by three Mileenas, sais out and thirsty for your blood. While you killed two, one of them managed to pin you down and tried to stab you in the eyes like poor Kenshi. Keyword tried. This time, you took out Mileena's eyes with her own blades.

While Titan Y/N and the Titan Deadly Alliance prepare another spell, who should catch them off guard by attacking them but their far more virtuous counterparts? At first, they appeared to have the upper hand, enough so the more virtuous Shang Tsung could earnestly shout some encouragement to you. You hate how looking at him made you blush.

While Titan Shang Tsung and Titan Quan-chi devour the souls of their more heroic selves, your Titan self has a more sadistic idea in hand. She tore a hole into your virtuous counterpart before grabbing heroic Shang Tsung's spine as a hacksaw, bifurcating your other self. Titan Y/N then uses her blade to swiftly cut off your other self's head and tears off her veil to reveal the writhing head full of snakes beneath. Titan Y/N giggles before she turns her back on the war beneath her feet to toss the decapitated head over her shoulder like it were a bouquet. This turns dozens of the kombatants on either side into stone because they made the mistake of looking at your other self's eyes. These poor souls are soon shattered into pebbles by their enemies, indistinguishable from the rest of the pyramid's ruins. Luckily, you were spared this gruesome fate.

After getting through more strange opponents, you could finally reunite with Lord Lui Kang and follow him the rest of the way up the pyramid. Finally, you reached the top to fight the masterminds behind this war and the conspiracy against your timeline. Titan Y/N was less than impressed.

"I've heard your righteous spiel long enough to last ALL my lifetimes. So please, at least keep this fight interesting."

You knew Lord Lui Kang to be powerful beyond compare, but even with his Titan power restored, he was still one Titan going against three malicious ones. It didn't help that none of them, including Titan Y/N, didn't fight fairly such as when she bit into Lui Kang with her fangs. So with the Fire God currently out of commission you're forced to fight them all alone.

"Honestly, at this point in time, I've forgotten how many of you I've seen die."

Somehow, against all odds, and you nearly dying so many times and sustaining so many injuries, you were still standing among the bloodied and beaten Titans. Lui Kang couldn't help but compliment you on your impressive feat.

"Your praise is like a healing salve for all my wounds. Now, let's cut out these tumors."

Lui Kang, deciding you've done more than enough, walks over to stand over the fallen Titans. Using his own Titan power, he reduces all of them into dust and sand, hopefully making it the last time you'll see any of them specifically. However, without either Titan Shang Tsung or Titan Y/n, it became clear from how the entire realm shook that the timeline was starting to crumble and tear at the seams.

"What now?!"

Lui Kang quickly uses his power to send you back to your native timeline before the current one you're in collapses with you alongside it.

"Thank you for your aid, Y/N. I hope we meet again one day."

You're lifted into the air and surrounded by fire before a bright flash of white goes off in front of you, and you end up exactly where you need to be.

A/N: Whaaa, two posts in one day?!? How can this be??? Anyways, remember to like, reblog, and comment. And if you like, drop and ask a random thought in my inbox, as I do enjoy hearing from y'all!😁😁😁😁

Playlist while writing this

"A Good Song Never Dies" by Saint Motel

"Tot Musica" by Ado

"I Can't Decide" by Scissor Sisters

"Play With Fire" by Sam Tinnesz

"Running up that Hill" feat Meg Myers

[rosebushwitch]

so here’s my essay on Predathos, as a writing major who has gone literature analysis on the lore I can remember from the entire history of critical role no I’m not citing my sources or checking anything in this essay I will

Argue that Predathos is a narrative foil to the Luxon and if allowed to break free will consume everything in its path and entirely reboot the magical knowledge and practice in Exandria, in essence bringing forth a second Calamity.*

According to the Grim Verity’s research (which was partially stolen from Vasselheim), Predathos was locked away in Ruidus the Red Moon which is a chunk of Exandria that was shot into the sky by the gods sometime pre Calamity, post Founding.

Two gods, Ethedok the Endless Shadow (God of darkness and winter) and Vordo the Fateshaper (God of fate and order) were consumed by Predathos and the other deities got real scared and locked Predathos away. It was AFTER this that the schism occurred and the Prime Deities and Betrayer Gods started fighting. While everyone was busy picking sides of the schism and celestials and devils were dancing or whatever, Corellon the Archeart (shout out Narrative Telephone) decided to give mortals arcane knowledge in order to defend themselves and also created elves?? Mortals could now wield magic without divine intervention. The Archeart's symbol has two crescent moons which may or may not be relevant but is a fun fact. If we take this timeline to be correct (again I’m not fact checking anything here, cite my sources? No, shan’t), mortal knowledge of the Arcane separate to divine intervention occured after Predathos was contained.

Calamity occurs, the Divergence occurs and the gods scurry off behind the Divine Gate which is similar to the lattice work magic cage that keeps Predathos locked away in Ruidus. Some thousands of years go by and Exandria begins rebuilding, but in present day hasn't quite reached the peak cultural and magical knowledge that was at it's height in the Age of Arcanum prior to Calamity. The Gods remain behind the gate and do not walk among their worshippers, but mortals have taken magic and run. Ships are flying through the skies, dragons are being slain.

The Luxon is still being worshipped in parts of the world, most notably Xhorhas. This god (?) is intrinsically linked to Dunamancy, a magic that pulls at the threads of space and time. The Luxon is said to be an entity that precedes time and space, a representation of light and possibility. Lux deriving from the root word for Light, -on a suffix here that generally derives to mean actions.

The name Predathos clearly comes from a root word for Predator; Athos or Thos at roots may refer to various myths or indeed eating, earning Predathos the moniker 'The God-Eater'. But this could also be from the root Ethos. Ethos is defined broadly as the spirit of a culture or era. The belief systems, the community, the character of an age. What does it mean to be a predator of the essence that ties everything in the modern age together?

If the Luxon is light, possibility, a form of creation that predates time, is Predathos it's natural opposing force? If the Luxon breaks off parts of itself to create, gives motes of possibility to followers through beacons of light, lights the way for new knowledge and ideas, ties things together through possibility, does Predathos pull them apart? Make itself bigger through destruction of the fabric that ties together Ethos? Take parts of its followers to further its own hunger? Predathos may predate the founding, it's unclear how old this entity is. Did this entity come from before time and consume the Endless Shadow and the Fateshaper, or did these two gods meld together to form a darkness that is hellbent on consuming that which the Luxon provides? Light and fateshaping, light and possibility? In either case, whether it ate gods or was formed from them, Predathos certainly acts in a narrative sense as a foil to dunamantic magics and history we learnt throughout the entirety of Campaign 2.

Exandria and the Material Plane has evolved beyond deities presiding over life, to having full cultures and communities of beings dedicated to different Ethos that ties the world together. Is the One Who Sleeps awakening now to find a plane ripe for eating? Does it consume Gods, or does it consume ideas and knowledge and the arcane? Why wouldn't that predator come after the beings who are wielding the arcane to create their own communities and cultures, just as the Gods did when they last walked on the Material Plane. Predathos has been watching Exandrian's dreams, lying in wait, manipulating those it can find connections to so it can use them to be unleashed. Does Predathos have threads of connection in can pull on, like the Luxon can through beacons? Are Ruidusborn another version of those who are Consecuted, but rather than being granted new life the Ruidusborn are feeling the pain, rage, joy, power of a being that has been caged.

The apogee solstice made leylines of magic stronger, you could see them in the skies, but shifted them to create powerful magic spaces and black spots where some magic simply didn’t work.

Does Predathos want to consume the leylines of magic itself? More importantly, why are the Gods retreating behind the gate and leaving this threat to be delt with by their champions? They certainly seem scared, so why not go and reinforce the cage? Are they worried the betrayer gods would use this as an excuse to break free? Are they unable to break through the divine gate without vessels themselves?

I’m raising more questions that answers now, so,

In conclusion, I don’t believe this narrative has been setting Predathos up to be just a God-Eater. I think Bells Hells are right to be questioning this and should even take it a step further. Exandria and it’s magic users and their power is the meal, the Gods might just be dessert.

* (Incidentally if Predathos is let out and succeeds in ripping the magic system of Exandria apart this may result in Critical Role being able to entirely reboot and transition to an in house TTRPG system while remaining in the narrative world of Exandria, should this be of interest to their creatives. That is an aside point and not the central thesis of this essay, predominantly because I’m not interested in the #discourse of who likes or dislikes Critical Role’s creative direction. In Marisha Ray I trust, and my central thesis in life is hey let people enjoy things, go find something you enjoy. Couldn’t say if Matt is itching to create a new fresh world, or continue his exploration of this one. Wouldn’t suppose hinging a real world shift on what happens in this unscripted show would be possible anyway they might just stop Predathos. Would personally be overjoyed to watch these stories unfold wherever they may be set.)

[neathbound]

I'm sure someone's pointed this out already, but the connection I noticed between Firmament and Sunless Skies:

A lot of folks have already been guessing that the Vulgate is a Scrive-Spinster. I'll point out that SSkies specifically identifies Spinsters as the former keepers of the Pergamon Manse, "library of the heavens," where Judgments recorded their laws.

This forms an interesting parallel with Lost Time: a library of law, and a library of the excised. The Spinsters are formed of bronzewood and quills; the Gaolers, of birch and needles.

Of the Manse, we know very little: Spinster-related sources say it was destroyed by "treachery," but it's also heavily implied that it was destroyed when the Halved darkened and outlawed stories. The treachery in question, then, may simply be an indirect reference to the betrayal of the King Who Speaks.

Speaking of SSkies' lore, we come to the main point: the game takes place in an different timeline than Fallen London. We know for a fact that per SSkies, the Avid Horizon was opened much prior to present-day Fallen London. That point has kind of always gone unacknowledged, to preserve the canon of each game, but with Firmament's focus on Lost Time, excised histories, and alternate timelines, I think this is a way of opening that door (so to speak).

My main question, then, is whether or not the Pergamon Manse and Lost Time are twin libraries, or one in the same. Because of SSkies (an likely the Lost Duchess), we know that alternate history is possible, not just alternate presents; Lost Time might be a point in the Manse's timeline before its destruction, or in a world where it hasn't yet been destroyed.

Alternatively, we may be visiting a place which parallels the Manse. Maybe Lost Time must be destroyed, like the Manse, to free its captive histories.

[wanderingnork]

Githyanki History Timeline

After MUCH research, I present: a timeline of the history of the gith! Starting from their earliest known appearances in history, spanning multiple planes, and ending at "the present day." Sources below the cut.

The subterranean empire of Zarum is founded on the Material Plane world of Oerth. The gith inhabitants, likely originally human, are highly religious, live deeply ritualistic lives, and claim complete control over many other peoples.

A patron deity of the gith dies and is buried somewhere under the material plane world of Pharagos. Presumably this, and possibly other deaths, are why the gods didn't intervene in what came next.

The illithids invade from a parallel, destroying the empire and enslaving the gith. The gith are forcibly dispersed across many planes of existence. Some are taken to the planet of Penumbra, where they'll remain and miss out on the rebellion, remaining in the long term as the "forerunners."

The great rebellion: Gith leads her people to shatter the entire illithid empire across every plane and leave it in ruins.

The githyanki relocate from the Material Plane to the Astral Sea.

The city of Tu'narath is founded on the body of a dead god and the gith begin forging their famous silver swords.

If Baldur's Gate 3 is treated as canon, somewhere in here Gith's son Orpheus is born.

Zerthimon objects to Gith's attempts to continue a war now that the gith are free. A civil war of the gith ensues and they split into the githyanki (children of Gith) and githzerai (those who spurn Gith). In some sources this is called "The Pronouncement of Two Skies." The githzerai depart for the plane of Limbo. A small splinter faction, the githvyrik, break off from both sides.

Gith and Vlaakith travel to the Hells to negotiate for aid from the archdevil Dispater. He denies them, but the dragon goddess Tiamat accepts a deal for the souls of githyanki rulers in return for the service of red dragons. Gith remains in the Hells as the first sacrifice. Vlaakith returns to the Astral Sea as regent in Gith's name, carrying the Scepter of Ephelomon as symbol of the pact.

If Baldur's Gate 3 is treated as canon, Orpheus tries to overthrow Vlaakith and is imprisoned, thought dead by the general public.

The extended regency of the line of Vlaakith begins and will last for 156 descendants. Vlaakith promises the githyanki the Material Plane as a "garden" for harvesting. At some point, Zerthimon disappears and it's unclear exactly where he went. Suggestions range from enlightened transcendence to death to lichdom.

The faction of the gul'othran, githyanki who seek total conquest and death of all aberrations rather than mere raiding and plunder, appears.

At some point after this, a significantly-sized githyanki ship breaks through into the planar-locked world of Athas. It's stranded there and all aboard are mutated permanently by psionic energies of that world, with no way to get back. The ship is considered lost.

The forge of Kamyn-Dhun, where the best silver swords were forged, is lost by sinking into the ocean. The githyanki remaining there undergo magical adjustments to allow them to survive underwater in their now-sunken city.

Approximately 1,000 years prior to the present day, Vlaakith CLVII (157) undergoes a transformation to become a lich. She will reign unchallenged until the present day, when either the events of The Lich-Queen's Beloved will take place or the events of Baldur's Gate 3 will take place, depending on the setting.

Baldur's Gate 3, Larian Studios, 2023 Chainmail Miniatures Game: Blood and Darkness - Set 2 Guidebook Dark Sun Campaign Setting, 2nd Edition Dark Sun Creature Catalog, 4th Edition Dawn of Night (Erevis Cale Trilogy, Book II, 2009) Dragon Magazine #294 - Underground Scenarios Dragon Magazine #298 - Vault of the Drow and Wizards' Workshop: Chainmail Dungeon #100 - The Lich-Queen's Beloved Dungeon #116 - The Death of Lashimire Dungeon #125 - Seeker of the Silver Forge Dungeon #168 - A Tyranny of Souls The Illithiad 3, Masters of Eternal Night The Illithiad 4, Dawn of the Overmind Mordenkainen's Tome of Foes, 5th Edition The Plane Above, 4th Edition The Plane Below, 4th Edition Planescape: Torment, Black Isle Studios, 1999 Polyhedron #159 - Chapter 5: The Invasion of Pharagos

[accio-victuuri]

THE STORY OF THE 85 LOGO 🏍️

Since Yibo was spotted on the race track, the conversation around the logo is picking up again. This has been discussed so many times before & in bits and pieces but I want to give it a go and make my own version of it’s history. It’s a mix of the logo itself as well as the cpn speculation surrounding it’s origin. I’m not gonna talk about other related designer zz candies, this is only for the logo.

I used this video by R背靠大树好乘凉W as a guide on the timeline but i did my own fact checking and added a lot more points especially with Parts II-IV of this post.

I. THE ORIGIN

11/10/2018, Yamaha Racing Team weibo account posts the first look of the 85 logo. At this point, everyone already knew who this is supposed to be. It’s also cute how the time it was posted had the timestamp “28” which is Ai Bo, another clue.

“ driver number 85 is coming soon! “

1/19/2019, The same account officially shared that Yibo will be joining the MLT YAMAHA team for 2019 and Tracer 85 was born. Yibo also reposted this and replied with :

Happy New Year to all! ! ! ! ! racing career has begun! ! ! ! ☺️☺️☺️Please call me driver Wang Yibo! ! ! ! ～～～～～

1/29/2019, the draft for Yibo’s Tracer 85 racing suit was released by the weibo account. It prominently features “85”.

Now a key player in this whole designing mystery is DAINESE a company that describes themselves as: Dedicated to producing the most effective safety solutions in every arena where athletes continually push the human body and mind to surpass their prior achievements. From our motorcycle racing origins to alpine skiing, mountain biking, competitive sailing and outer space. So they posted about the racing suit itself as well as the helmet. Again, both things featured the 85 logo, along with other symbols that is an entirely different cpn on it’s own.

It’s so obvious that a professional company will make this for WYB. Even if we CPN that the logo was made by XZ, or even a rough sketch of it and passed on to Yibo, down to this company’s team to refine. There is just no way that XZ will write his name down as the owner of it, if we didn’t have that BTS video of their conversation about it then we won’t have a confirmation. Even if we have that video, there is still the probability that XZ didn’t follow through.

Then someone asked the company itself about the origin of the logo and they said WYB brought it himself.

The logo of No. 85 is not designed by us, it is brought by Yibo himself

Thank you for your support

If you look at the original post for the racing suit, the comments are all wf being so prissy about who designed it. I know that this post is supposedly about the 85 logo but the suit is a huge part of that. Also I think it’s about time to clear up the fact that cpfs are not trying to discredit anyone who made WYB’s gear. Why can’t we just be happy that he has a cool moto suit with the 85 on it? We are. We really are. It’s just that analyzing the elements within it is something that CPFs love to do. Not even for the relationship part of it but just to understand him better. The thing is, I don’t look at it and think only about how “handsome” yibo is. I also wanna know what it means. The details. This is something that represents him as a racer so I will naturally be curious about what’s on it. Not to say that so/os are shallow or anything, It’s just that we are two different kinds of fans. Our brains don’t work the same way. That’s fine. I wish people will one day accept that we all approach fandom in different ways. If you don’t like something— then ignore it.

So the conclusion here is, 85 was not an idea/logo made by the company DAINESE. Yes, they produced the gear and finalized everything. They were hired by YAMAHA to do so. However the one who drew that logo on a piece of paper is unknown.

Our best guess is Xiao Zhan. 🫶🏼

II. IMPORTANCE OF 85 TO YIBO

85 represents Yibo’s birthday, August 5. But it’s really became his “identity” when Tracer 85 was born. Even if he wasn’t racing, this number became a recurring theme & design with his endorsements. For example when he did a collab with Miniso, the goods had 85 on them.

He has moved to the “Panther” more recently but 85 and 0805 is still very much a Yibo’s thing. There are even endorsements that have 85 on the price they sell his items for ( example is Richora ).

So using 85 is not a spur of the moment thing and goes beyond his racing career.

III. OTHER SIGHTINGS ( of the logo )

Aside from the race track, the most important way the logo was incorporated was through merchandise. Whether it’s the custom phone case that only Yibo has —

or the infamous 85 cap which was repped by yinzheng. the sus part here is yibo commenting, only acknowledging the post but then yz had to reply back with : lemons grow on lemon trees, under the lemon tree there’s me. which means he is jealous and then yibo had to reply back with a series of emojis that makes things more suspicious.

sure, yinzheng can mean that he is jealous of the merch. that yibo has his own now and that the whole tracer 85 now goes beyond being a racer. but the cpf explanation to this is that he is jealous that wyb has someone that made this amazing logo for him too. it's really so cool to have your own designer at home.

a fan favorite would be this cap, released by Day Day Up in their WYB goods line back in 2020. What’s interesting is, the number of pieces available for it’s initial presale was 1005. LOL. 1005 is October 5, of course, XZ’s birthday. I think the number of pieces for a presale though not entirely up to yibo, may still be influenced by him. It could easily be 8500 pieces just to be meta but no. Why 1005? Is it a nod to the guy who made the 85 design? Plus if this logo was owned by Yamaha or Dainese, then why was it allowed to be used commercial by a completely different entity. Our answer is that it’s Yibo.

It’s curious that the cap received this special treatment, because out of all the merch sold in that line, it is the one that had the 85 logo in it’s original form. The rest had their own iteration of 85 but the cap is the closest to the “logo”. This is why a lot of fans, and CPFs specifically wanted to get it.

My favorite memory from when this line came out was the loud speculation about the logo and it’s connection to XZ. There were even talks of 🍤 buying something cause if XZ is the designer, then it’s also a XZ merch. This is the same year when 🍤 was going around SDC3 filming cause XZ was supposedly there. So yeah. This cannot be confirmed and no shrimp will ever admit but it was definitely a rumor going around that time. Looking back, that CPN was beneficial ( in a way ) to shrimps because it casts XZ in a good light. They know XZ’s capability so they can sort of agree to it. Not that we need so/o fans validating our opinions/speculations, but it’s a possible explanation to their reaction. Compared to motos who were angry with the association and insulted XZ. Implying that he isn’t capable, they can say that cause they don’t know XZ.

IV. Connection to Xiao Zhan “the designer” and candies

Turtles pointing to XZ as the designer is not only rooted in CPN, but the fact that making logos was his previous job. Even before the leaked video, it made sense to the community because after all, this is what XZ is good at. He’d done it for years in school and as a professional. There were photos of his previous work that leaked and he also talked about logo-making when he visited the bilibili office. Where he shared how frustrating it was to work with clients. More recently, in one his vlogs, we could see him explaining his thoughts on a visual logo for XZ Studio.

( video is about xz the designer, mostly talking about it during xfire / xnine days )

So his capability, closeness & familiarity with WYB at the time of the logo’s conception is key. CPFs are very familiar with how XZ makes art and logos for himself so to us it’s a rational speculation to think XZ had some influence on this.

There is another talk about Yuehua being the one who made it. They do have people who can make those right? However it was pointed out that with how they make logos for their other artists, it’s unlikely. They did claim the rights to the Panther, but the identity of the artist was left blank on the application. No one ever did claim ownership of this Logo or the Panther in public. Why wouldn’t they? It’s free promotion.

CPN Clues:

• 85 read as 28. Ai Bo + the Z.

• The Z is really my favorite clue 🥺🥺🥺🥺

• How it looks very similar to the M skateboarding logo. Which can also look like a 85.

• Some other explanation on what the 85 could mean. It’s XZ’s style to have hidden meanings aside from what you actually see.

• The minimalist design that screams XZ.

The 85 logo talk and cpn have really been in full swing when EVISU released those photos and I hope BXGs ( especially big accounts on the bird app and beyond ) will rein it in with the Xiao Zhan association. We already know how hostile the environment is so it’s best to not use his full name. It’s actually a common CPF way of doing things, not using their full names in our posts. As excited as we all were, the whole point was that tracer 85 is back, not the CPN. I know it’s tricky to find a balance with how our brains are wired, but you will learn. It should always be them as individuals first.

85 logo and all other “designer GG” is one of those CPN that is very popular and widely circulated in the bxg community — and with good reason. However, it is in no way to take away 85 from Yibo. It’s him. It is his brand and it will always be his.

This is one in a couple of “yizhan mysteries” out there that keeps the BXG flame alive 🔥. These (alleged) silent collaboration/s between them are so great because it shows how well they work together as a team.

-END.

[exactlycleverpirate]

Rafayel Timeline Redux Repost (All in one post)

All the formatting got removed, but hopefully having it all in one post will be helpful for some people. I might fiddle with this later and see if I can fix the formatting.

Spoilers under the cut.

“The Princess with a god’s heart, the God of the Sea who saved her - the Lemurian who rescued her from a cage time and time again…

They will meet once more.”

?? Island of Songs (Myth) 

(I put this at the beginning because Amund says this is where everything started. It could also possibly take place near the end of Earth’s life or the beginning of Philos’ life.)

Amund: “If that island sparked the beginning of our demise, then everything should end there.”

MC is trapped on an island surrounded by gray skies and gray waves. She is waiting to be rescued by someone from the sea, because otherwise the waves will one day drown her. She is doing the same thing over and over.

“The sky gloomy, and the water a gray desert. Waves crash against the island in the center of the ocean. On the island, I am in a hut, surrounded by silence and solitude. I know that one day, the tides, boundless and cruel, will take me away. It’s…I’m waiting for someone from the sea to rescue me from this prison.”

Hidden in these sandy tides are ruins, its structures of various sizes. MC: “...Where are we?!” Rafayel: “The Island of Songs.” MC: “(It…sounds familiar.) Rafayel, I…I think I’ve been here before…” Something is calling out to me. Not waiting for Rafayel, I hurry and run into the ruins. Golden sands cover what was once an island. Fragmented walls and scattered roof tiles cover the ground. Withered branches reach to the sky. MC: “I feel like I know this place… I’ve walked these streets… I’ve seen these roof tiles… We’re in…” I run my hand along a wall, reaching a broken window. I can almost hear the gray waves lapping at the rocks. The loneliness and silence from my dream materialize, wrapping around me. MC: “This is the place I’ve dreamed about!” Rafayel: “Your Highness remembers.” MC: “In my dream, I was…” I was doing the same thing over and over… And next to me was… (see below)

Here is where the legend of the God of the Sea is born.

Rafayel: “Whence a Sea God’s legend arose.”

There are tablets of Lemurian prophecy and history buried on the island. MC knew they were there. (Did she write them or was she there when they were written?)

I start to dig. My intuition tells me an object of great importance is near. MC: “You said a Sea God’s legend originated from here… There…has to be…” I find a slab, cracked, in the ruins.

Rafayel: “The Tome of the Sea God? What does it contain?” Like golden leaves on the water, the symbols float and form words. Rafayel: “It’s Lemuria’s history and the Sea God’s prophecy.”

In exchange for her sincere devotion, Rafayel gives MC his heart. They make an eternal vow and bond, etched on their very souls.

Rafayel: “Is Your Highness not my master?” MC: “Master?” Rafayel: “Once Lemurians are bound to someone, we can never go against them.” MC: “Are you…referring to the time you were gifted to me? Taming requires plucking a Lemurian scale. I did nothing of the sort.” Rafayel: “Our bond has existed for years. Long before the sea dried up.”

MC: “...The heart belongs to the God of the Sea.”

MC: “Desiring the sincerest worship of mortals, thou must offer an irreplaceable object.” Rafayel: “The Sea God's heart, mine heart. Dost thou want it?”

MC: “You’re the god who gifted me this heart.”

MC: “We made a vow. You are the God of the Sea who has my sincerest devotion.”

It is my bond, my vow with Rafayel engraved deep within my soul.

MC: “Our vow is eternal.”

On the happiest day of his life, Rafayel kisses her and devotes the entire ocean to her. (Did they get engaged or married? Rafayel later calls her his beloved bride.)

“No gray waves, no lonesome islands. A desert of blue-I think if the desert is azure, it ought to look like the sea. In boundless blue, a young man, the God of the Sea, holds a girl’s hand. They walk to the horizon. The God of the Sea gestures for waves to bloom under the girl’s feet. Fish swim. White gulls circle overhead and sing as they land on her shoulder. To the God of the Sea, this is the happiest day of his life. And when he kisses her, he devotes the entire ocean to his beloved.”

Lemurians later believe that the heart was acquired through deception, and that the humans stole it, resulting the the God of the Sea’s death.

Amund: “I believe in Your Quintessence. Her method of acquiring the heart wasn’t forgotten, was it? If that island sparked the beginning of our demise, then everything should end there. The Lemurians cannot be deceived again!”

MC: “The Lemurian tales I’ve read said the God of the Sea died long ago… I’m sorry, you must refer to it as a “slumber.” How can there still be a God of the Sea?” Rafayel: “Does Your Highness know why he perished? His heart was stolen by humans.”

Thousands of Years ago, Lemuria disappears and becomes the stuff of myth and legend.

?? Abyssal Witch (Fragrant Dream) (I choose to interpret this as a memory, but it could also be an allusion to something that could happen in the future or just a dream. Whatever it is, Rafayel reacts to it like it is significant.)

Rafayel and MC were lovers (possibly during the Island of Songs sequence of events?). He would play his flute beneath her window and they frequently explored the sea together.

The last time she saw the sun before becoming the Abyssal Witch, she sat in a boat with her head on her lover Rafayel's shoulder.

She is cursed to be a Sea Witch in the Abyssal rift and loses all memory of being human and of Rafayel. She is accompanied by a red fish and a blue fish.

Rafayel finds her and begins a quest to gather the materials for a potion to turn human. This includes one of his precious scales, a bottle of his eternal blood, and a song in a conch.

Once the potion is complete, he uses the fragrance to turn her human and restore her memories.The potion she made has a bitter scent reminiscent of fermented aquatic plants. As he vanishes into sea foam, he returns her to the shore so she can live and be free.

(When she regains her memories, the voices that play are of current day Rafayel, from his card Your Fragrance. Possibly just because she is remembering this in a dream, rather than those being the actual memories she recovered at the time.)

(Rafayel makes a jibe in Nightly Stroll about waiting 800 years, so is this event and/or the Island of Songs possibly 800 years before the main story, circa 1248? My inclination is to say Island of Songs takes place before Lemuria disappears - and is in fact the impetus for it to disappear - thousands of years ago, but it takes him a long time to find her, potentially putting Fragrant Dream in 1248. But this is all speculation.)

2024 (...probably (Rafayel literally says probably about his age in his interview…)) Rafayel born March 6th (Promotional video, in game profile)

2026-2027 MC born. (This age comes from chapter 5.1. The letter she gets from Grandma says she was 7-8 when they started experimenting on her, and she was adopted by Grandma after the Chronorift Catastrophe in 2034.)

?? Child Rafayel likes escaping to explore the ocean. On one or more of these excursions, he sees a human floating lantern festival and puts out their lanterns. (Ocean At Night)

2034

Rafayel would be 10 at this time. (If his birth year is correct.)

Deepspace Tunnel appears

Chronorift Catastrophe

MC (age 7-8) now has Protocore Syndrome in her heart, is adopted by Granny, and has little memory before this event.

On December 31st, Lemurian ruins are discovered, after a tsunami southeast of Linkon city, when a rift opens up and reveals it.

Child Rafayel is given a Whale Call as a means of protection, in case something happens on one of his escapes from Lemuria. However, he never uses it, because he never escapes again after this, and sometime later he buries it in the Lemurian city. (Whalefall Lament)

Sometime before 2038, MC goes on a field trip to Hat Island (possibly when she meets Rafayel?).

?? Pinkie Promise as children. (MS Chapter 7.11) At some point in MC and Rafayel's childhood, Rafayel visits the surface world but gets trapped on the beach on his return trip (on Ebb Day?) (Perhaps during her field trip to Hat Island?) (A summer day by the seaside involving seashells? (Anecdote 2)) She saves him and they make a pinkie promise. Rafayel says if she doesn't return, he will chase her to the ends of the earth. (Nightly Stroll) (Could be in this life or a previous one.)

Rafayel: “It’s settled, then. If you don’t return, I’ll…I’ll chase you to the ends of the Earth.”

?? Lemurians Slaughtered. Some survivors go into hiding living on land among humans, including his Aunt Talia and K. (Anecdote 3) (See What Happened to Lemuria and Rafayel for a detailed breakdown of this. Could be in this life or a previous one.)

Rafayel's Anecdote 3 immediately precedes Anecdote 2 (See 2044-2047). 

Rafayel is an Opera singer in Verona going by the moniker “Mo”, hunting down and killing people, possibly as revenge for the destruction of Lemuria and slaughter of his people. 

He is being investigated by a private detective named Louis. 

He is not painting at this time. 

Rafayel's only living family on Earth is his Aunt Talia, also Lemurian. His Aunt Talia is also in Verona. Talia thinks Rafayel of the past was like a blazing flame. But ever since the incident in Lemuria, he is like a battered reef - cold and hard outside, but inwardly riddled with cracks, vulnerable, and on the verge of crumbling. She remembers he used to like painting. 

He also recently attended a Seamoon Ceremony for another Lemurian, K, who dies and is returned to the sea (after having his scales and blood taken). Lemurians are hiding amongst humanity, but being hunted, tortured, harvested for their scales and blood and killed. It is suggested that Rafayel is trying to accomplish something to save the Lemurians, saying, “Not every Lemurian survivor can wait.” It appears the longer he takes to accomplish his goal, the more of the Lemurians die in the meanwhile. 

Rafayel leaves Verona and moves to Linkon city. He has a picture of MC in his pocket, likely given to him by Louis, who gave Rafayel a new lead. Rafayel burns papers in a file before he disembarks the ship. He has a business card with relevant information. (Anecdote 3).

Sometime between 2043-2045 MC (17-18) begins attending University of Linkon. (School year usually begins in September.)

2043-2047 Rafayel's Anecdote 2 takes place sometime in this timeframe while MC is at University of Lincoln. 

Rafayel comes onto the scene in Linkon city with the release of his masterpiece Illusion (in the summer). His popularity as an artist skyrockets. He is staying in a hotel at this time and doesn't have his studio yet. 

In late summer, Rafayel receives an email informing him that MC is attending University of Linkon. He takes a position as a special lecturer there. He is then invited to remain as a visiting professor for a year.

He meets with someone at The Nest who provides him with more information about MC. Rafayel learns that people are watching MC, some for years, and are about to set something into motion. The man says Rafayel is getting into the game late, but Rafayel knows he's been in it since the beginning. The man doesn't have more information about who else is after her. The man gives Rafayel a distant photo of MC. Rafayel takes the photo, then burns the file and other pictures, telling the person that if he does anything unnecessary he'll never be able to work with anyone else again. 

Rafayel believes she is being surrounded by dangerous entities, some of whom may possibly be trying to use her to trap him. He describes her as bait. This is part of why he doesn’t approach her at this time. He decides he can afford to take his time and make his moves carefully.

Thinking about her brings him deep pain. He describes his feelings for MC as akin to a spice, painful and addictive and indicates he is prepared to be with her for the rest of his life, but also wants to “settle the score, bit by bit, slowly and steadily”.

He sees a picture of her on campus and learns where her major usually has classes. He recognizes her pictures right away, despite it being many years since he last saw her. He notes that she is older now, but still has the same mirth in her eyes. Rafayel acknowledges that “he has taken the bait she used once before”.

He sees MC again, talking to some of her classmates. He is confused that she doesn’t seem to know anything about Lemuria. (Anecdote 2)

Rafayel hires Thomas to be his agent. (Anecdote 1)

Thomas learns about business management to be a better agent for Rafayel. (Anecdote 1)

2047-2048 MC graduates. (School year usually ends June-July)

2048 Pregame

The month before the main story, Rafayel's art broke the record for the highest selling art at Lizio Auctions. 

At the start of the year, (per Main Story chpt 2.6) Rafayel returns to the country from overseas. He is known for spending six months painting in his studio, then traveling the world for inspiration/materials for the other 6 months.

2048 Main Story begins. MC (age 21-22) begins work as a Deepspace Hunter. MC and Rafayel are reunited, though MC does not remember Rafayel. Rafayel’s home is called Mo Art Studio.

Rafayel acquires a red Flamula from Lemuria the first time he reintroduces himself to MC. She gives it to him to take home. She later names it Reddie.

Philos - 30,000 years after the seas dried up. Rafayel's Myth takes place on Philos, likely sometime between Xavier and MC meeting for the first time (Xavier’s Anecdote 3) and Xavier's myth story. The oceans have been missing for 30,000 years (possibly because Earth was destroyed and Philos was made with a fake core holding separate tectonic plates together). 

“...we had substituted Earth’s extinguished core with a powerful, artificial one. This core holds fragmented landmass together, preventing them from scattering into the starry sea. So aside from more dust, more cloudy days, and cumbersome travel between tectonic plates, our planet isn't much different from the Earth of years past.” (Xavier’s Anecdote 3)

“People like Xavier, they'll experience many centuries. As long as Philos’s core still has energy, their lives shall last forevermore like the planet's.” (Xavier’s Anecdote 3)

MC was born from the depths of the planet. She has a special heart that makes the people of Philos immortal and is guarded in a palace, treated as a princess, and not allowed to leave. (See Xavier’s Myth for the connection between MC’s heart, the people’s immortality, and Philos's core.)

“Many, many years have passed on the humble planet of Philos. And on this land lives a noble princess. Her heart, pure and flawless, is blessed by the gods. It protects Philos forevermore, granting immortality to its denizens.”

“I am not a daughter of the Philos royal family. I am no one’s child. I am a person who awoke from the depths of the planet.”

“In the center of Starfall Forest, which had an unstable Protofield, was the heart of Philos. But it was hollow. Philos was made by mortal hands. It shouldn't have existed, and the core's energy had long been exhausted. The only way to keep the planet from dying was to fill its heart with energy. Philos was a planet where almost everyone lived eternal. Thus, humans were the most abundant resource that yielded much energy. Almost everyone who set foot here became the planet's food. Wanderers were a side effect born from the abnormal phenomenon.” (Xavier’s Myth chapter 8)

Xavier: “They found the perfect sacrifice. She can die and be reborn without end. In their eyes, she was the planet's very life force. For only she has achieved true immortality… The royal family believed if they sent her into the planet's heart when the time is right, their problems would be solved. No one asked how she felt or whether she was willing to sacrifice herself. They also care little about her being left in a hole to die and be reborn again and again.” (Xavier’s Myth chapter 8)

Child MC is gifted a young Rafayel as a Lemurian slave. She sets him free. (Rafayel later tells her he allowed himself to be caught on purpose to meet her.) When she set him free when they were children, he made a vow to return to her one day, giving her one of his scales which she has as a little blue fish in a tank, but she doesn't know it is the scale he gifted her. (Later, when they are adults, MC learns Rafayel was bound to MC when the oceans still existed.)

Rafayel: “I’ll return one day and find you.” He takes my hand. To my surprise, a little blue fish swims between our palms. Rafayel: “Fish are emissaries of the God of the Sea. This is my vow to you.”

Rafayel: “Is Your Highness not my master?” MC: “Master?” Rafayel: “Once Lemurians are bound to someone, we can never go against them.” MC: “Are you…referring to the time you were gifted to me? Taming requires plucking a Lemurian scale. I did nothing of the sort.” Rafayel: “Our bond has existed for years. Long before the sea dried up.”

“Deep within the palace, the little blue fish slowly turns into a silver scale and sinks to the bottom of the glass bowl.”

MC remembers living on the Island of Songs in a hut by herself, surrounded by the ocean. (See the beginning of this timeline.) (Was this in her first life or some subsequent life on Earth?)

Rafayel and MC are reunited as adults on her 99th attempt to escape the palace. They meet several times and grow close.

There are other Lemurians on Philos with Rafayel,  including Amund. They are killing human nobles, with the belief that by doing so, it will help restore the oceans and Lemuria.

Rafayel is referred to as the God of the Sea in the myth (Amund says he has served other Gods of the Sea over the past several centuries. Is this different incarnations of Rafayel, or other people entirely?)

MC: “Why do Lemurians need to kill humans? Revenge?” Rafayel: “Your Highness and I know revenge is meaningless. The seas are but sands for 30,000 years. We only want one thing.” MC: “The Lemurians want to go home?” Rafayel: “...Yes. We must awaken the seas and return to our homeland.”

MC can use a Lemurian Fishtail Beacon to summon Rafayel.

Rafayel and Amund are plotting to recover “the God of the Sea’s (Rafayel’s) heart from MC by cutting it out with a dagger on the Island of Songs. However, the heart must be given willingly. Rafayel is uncertain whether the legends are true about killing MC to restore the oceans and Lemuria. Per the legend, the goal seems to be attaining Absolute Power. 

According to the legend, “Lemurians who seeketh Absolute Power: Combat the treacherous tides. Dive into The Deep for pearls. Find a true love. When blessed with a true love’s kiss, claim her heart by your own hand. A heart, pure, flawless-and filled with love. It is the best offering humans can give to Lemurians. -Lemurian Ruins, Slate No. 0065, Lemuria: Tome of the Sea God”. 

(Amund has served multiple Gods of the Sea over the centuries. Are these all reincarnations of Rafayel or are there multiple Gods of the Sea?)

6 months after Rafayel and MC celebrate her birthday, he and Amund take her to the Island of Songs (now no longer an island), which she recognizes. She remembers her past life with Rafayel and realizes that Rafayel will fall into eternal slumber and the seas will never be restored if she does not return his heart. She offers to cut it out, but Rafayel refuses, saying he and the Lemurians will have to find their own way to change the story. He attempts to erase her memories and sever their bond to save her. Rafayel calls her his beloved bride.

Rafayel's flames are black because his power is dying.

“The black flames don’t flicker. They burn silently like the man who lit them. No energy, no warmth, and no hope in sight.” (This is similar to how Rafayel describes being trapped on the beach to MC in Nightly Stroll: “No way out, no hope, and waiting to die.”)

Rafayel: “The…seas will dry up.” MC: “Anything else?” Rafayel: “When the God of the Sea is revived, the seas will awaken. To take back what he’s lost, the God of the Sea must kill his beloved.”

Rafayel: “A god must protect his followers. If the legend pertaining to the God of the Sea is inevitable…”

Rafayel: “Shouldn’t the God of the Sea himself change the story?”

Rafayel: “If the ending is fixed, let us start anew and be rid of this tale.”

Rafayel: “Lemurians must rewrite their own story, with their own hands.”

Rafayel: “Goodbye, my beloved bride.”

MC is returned to the palace with no memories of Rafayel, but she watches the blue fish he gave her when they were young and slowly begins to remember. Hearing that the Lemurians are on the verge of being captured, and remembering that Rafayel intends to leave, she runs out of the city to find him, her memories and their bond once more intact. Rafayel and Amund are outside the city preparing to leave. Rafayel believes there is a way to restore the Lemurians’ home, even if he falls into eternal slumber.

MC: “Miss Natasha, who gifted me this fish?” Natasha: “Your Highness’s most important person.”

Amund: “What is Your Quintessence waiting for? I’ve served as a Lemurian Elder for centuries. Your Quintessence is the first God of the Sea who dared rewrite the Tome of the Sea God. Refusing to take her heart, Your Quintessence’s life must burn away. Your-” Rafayel: “What matters is our opportunity to return home. Having a God of the Sea makes no difference.”

Unsure how to resolve things, they set out on a camel across the desert to find Whalefall City. Amund is with them. Rafayel suggests that somehow by going to Whalefall City, he’ll be able to show her the sea. (Based on the Tender Moment, Whalefall Lament, it seems likely that Whalefall City is the name of the Lemurian city under the sea that Rafayel grew up in as a child on Earth.) The blue fish in the palace turns into a scale, presumably the one he gifted her to form their bond.

“Deep within the palace, the little blue fish slowly turns into a silver scale and sinks to the bottom of the glass bowl.”

“Philos’s seas have dried up for 30,000 years. The prophecy of gold has faded. Maybe there will never again be churning rivers or boundless seas. The Princess with a god’s heart, the God of the Sea who saved her-the Lemurian who rescued her from a cage time and time again… They will meet once more. -Legends From Deepspace: Sea of Golden Sands Chapter 1”

Rafayel: “Didn’t you want to visit the sea? We’ll head to Whalefall City.”

Thoughts, comments, theories, corrections? Please share!

[cleabellanov]

Jet-Skiing Through Identity: A deep dive into Mobius M. Mobius (part 3) 🛥️

But why am I doing this? What is it that's so calling about Mobius's character?

Simple short answer: a lot of things. Simple but slightly longer aswer:

- His relationship with Loki being the only constant in the show, the only things we as viewers knew we can actually follow through the episodes. Being the one to treat "the villain" differently, Mobius already wins some ground from Loki's fans.

- He is relatable. Now of course, relatibility differs from viewer to viewer. But Mobius just has the charm of getting closer to you without really doing anything special.

-He is comforting, and I don't really need to bring arguments when that's his way of being. Also, we all know that if Loki can be comforted hy this character, so can we. Little variants of their own, these broken hearts... :))

Now, we got to the part where Mobius doesn't just give up when the hard thing to do is the thing that has to be done (just wait until I get to season 2. It'll get crazy).

The last episodes of season 1 are the ones in which this choice and internal conflict reach the climax.

After he gets pruned and ends up in The Void, Mobius doesn't let go without a fight. Actually, he quickly finds a car to get him away from Alioth and helps Sylvie along too. But why is he doing this?

The rush of adrenaline, the resolution that Renslayer: his friend for eons, just ordered his pruning, and the obvious life or death situation he is in. They all call the survival instinct - but also the adventurous side of Mobius - to action. I would like to insist on the second one, though. You can wipe a man's memory thousands of times, but that doesn't mean you wipe him the way he is. Those memories still exist, even though not in Mobius's present consciousness.

Then, his line in "Journey Into Mystery" is one I will never forget:

He has known so many timelines that got pruned, traveled in time and apocalypses, yet when it comes to change, it's never too late.

<<It's never too late to be what you might have been>> (George Eliot)

And again, why? Where does this strenght of character come from?

This willingness to change, this spark also has a lot to do with Loki. When he was saying that, he was talking to the other Loki variants. A simple man among them, yet one they seemingly trust. Seeing how his Loki was able to change and looking at these variants of him, he probably believes he can do the same, be an example for others that might need it. If the God of Mischief was able of "the word of a friend", Mobius is able of turning away from the very thing he diverted his life to. And that's because he know the truth now.

However, where Loki is an external factor, Mobius's strength and courage are an internal one. None of this wouldn't happened without him. Actually, things would've ended pretty quickly without the 1, that person to give Loki a chance. And, as I said before, the rest is history.

In the beloved miraculous historical scene where they hug, Mobius first gives out his hand. A signal that he's not very familiar with touch, and I imagine they don't often give hugs at the TVA.

So it has to be Loki that makes it into a hug. Mobius accepts that wholeheartedly, and I am so very grateful we got to see it on screen. The characters needed it as much as we did. And still do.

I had to put that in here, you can never get enough of them.

So here we are, at the end of the season. This character has come a long way, from the analyst that plays the comic relief at times - to the trusting, rebellious and loving companion, working with the opposite side to bring down the front on which he used to be fighting. More than ever, he is ready to fight for free will.

But there is still a longer way to go, because good characters never just stop playing with our hearts and evolving into someone new.

Therefore, see you for parts 4 and 5, because we're getting to SEASON 2 MUAHAHA

[sanjoongie]

Library of Illusions~ Historical Fiction Section

Pray To Me

📚Part Four for the Library Of Illusions Event

📚Pairing: High Priest! San x Goddess! Reader (f)

📚Genre: Fantasy au, Historical au, Egyptian au 

📚Warnings: mentions of a knife cutting san's palm, reader drinks a cup of san's blood, oral (f receiving), dynamics switching, penetrative sex with no barrier, thigh fucking, strength kink, breath play, f and m orgasm

📚Word Count: 4,295

📚Rating: 18+ MDNI, smut

📚Summary: lost amongst the sands of time, you become a goddess visiting her high priest, sucked into a narrative that seeks to pull you into it forever

📚Dedication: @mejuii & @downtoamagicalland the best beta readers a writer could bribe have

↫The Science Fi Section ↭ MasterList ↭The Adventure Section↬

The History section held books that looked like they came from every walk of life--and timeline. This time you did allow your eyes to select the story you were going to dive into. There was a papyrus scroll with a rawhide tie. At the center of the knot was a snake. When you pulled the rawhide knot, the scroll unfurled and flew to the floor and grew to the size of a door. The center of the scroll was transparent, and within you could see a golden throne and endless blue skies over sand.  

The pressure of something watching you was more than just a feeling now. You could swear that there was an actual presence looming over you, like the entity was here you just couldn't see it. "I really hope you're some secret support system that's getting stronger as I get through these stories."

Out of nowhere and also right beside you, you heard a laugh. It haunted you, curling inside of your skull and bounced between your eardrums. 

"Kay, that's super helpful," You said sarcastically. You sighed and stepped through the scroll to your new story.

The heat washed over you before anything else, even though you were in the cool shade, two pyramids on top of each other, base to base. The slim line between the two bases was where you reclined on a throne, gilded and embedded with jewels.

"My Goddesssssss."

A king cobra slithered up to you, offering a bowl with its tail. "Your High Priesssssst is praying to you again. You ssssssaid to notify you when he did ssssssssso next."

You peered into the golden bowl and found the waters revealing a man prostrated before your statue. His bronze skin was uncovered, with the exception of a loincloth, jewelry in abundance, and black tattoos in hieroglyphs that spelled out your name. "Oh Goddess of Secrets, Goddess of the Unknown, I pray to thee once again, to bestow upon me the knowledge that only your most dedicated servants may attain."

"How long since the last High Priest was bestowed the knowledge?" You wondered absent-mindedly. You liked this one. They finally realized that you wanted something nice to look at when you were fed prayers.

"It'sssss been…" The cobra flickered his tongue and turned his head towards scrolls that were gathered on a table. "Awhile, Goddessssssss."

You tap a long nail against your lip. "I will travel to him."

The snake bent his head. "As you wish, Goddessssss." 

You took one step and fell into a shadow. It swallowed you up whole and suddenly your feet were in the place of the statue the High Priest had been praying to. 

The shock written across San's, the High Priest’s, face was almost comical. 

"Goddess." He crossed his arms, fists closed and hitting his collar bones. "I am your servant."

You tipped your head in acknowledgement. "Good Evening, High Priest."

San was now wearing a smile that showed he was both unsure but happy you were here. "To what do I owe the honor of you making your presence known to I, a lowly servant?"

You scoffed at his statement. "Is that what a man covered in jewels and gold calls himself? A lowly servant?"

San pulled off the jewelry without another thought. "The others demand that I wear all the finery befitting of a goddess's favorite. But it means nothing to me."

His hand went to his loincloth next before you stopped him, stepping through one shadow to the next to put a hand on his wrist. "You need not disrobe."

San raised his eyebrows in surprise? "Is this not custom? I read in the old high priests scrolls--"

You shook your head. "You are looking for hidden knowledge, are you not?" You couldn't help but smile knowingly. "You will not find it disrobing."

"But payment is required--" San let out a garbled yell as you yanked his arm upwards and slashed a knife across his palm. A cup was there instantly to receive his blood.

"Seed is not a good enough payment for this particular kernel of knowledge," You informed him.

San watched in complete wonder as you drank his blood, tipping your head back to receive the very last drop. "The high priest didn't mention anything like this."

"The last high priest was not given the gift of receiving my corporeal form, San. His scrolls are lies."

San fell to one knee, humbled that you would give him this information. "Goddess. How dare he?" His voice was stormy with anger. Was San angry on your behalf?

"He dared very much. It was quite entertaining to see how far his lies and trickery would get him. Do not worry, he did not sully my name, San. His heart was weighed and he did not make it to the blessed fields of reeds."

"How may I serve you, Goddess?" San wondered again.

"Receive my knowledge and act in my name," You intoned.

San finally looked up at you. His eyes shined with the determination of a warrior spirit. "It is what I was born to do."

You tipped your head. "Very well. I will give you three chances to decline the knowledge. Once the third time is confirmed, we are bound, you and I, in shadows and mystery."

"So mote it be," San agreed, thumping his fist to his heart.

"You will receive my knowledge from between my thighs. My essence, what is between a woman's legs, is full of knowledge and mystery. Do you agree to receive my secrets?"

San's eyes widened in surprise once again. He looked amazed and like he had been hit on the head at the same time. "Between your thighs?"

You raised your chin. "Do you consent?"

San nodded his head quickly and multiple times. "Y-yes-, of course, Goddess."

You continued. "The knowledge you seek will change your life irreversibly. You cannot go back to your current state of sanity. They will call you the broken one because they will not understand your ramblings but you will speak the truth. Do you consent?"

"I…" San swallowed that kernel of information. "You will break my mind?"

"The knowledge will, San," You told him gently. You cupped his face and he cuddled into it with familiarity he wasn't aware of. You felt new and old to him. He didn't understand the feelings you elicited from him but he yearned for it at the same time.

"I agree," San said in a firm voice, "If the knowledge is the truth, I need it."

You brought your face close to San's and he held onto his breath. "This is the final question, San. This is the last chance to step away. You will not be cursed or out of favor if you decline. But this is the last time you will see me if you do decline. Are you prepared?"

San's eyes shone with the eagerness of a child who wished to know everything the universe could throw at him. "Please, Goddess."

"Upon learning the knowledge I will bestow on you, you will bring the end of the world as everyone knows it. After death comes rebirth. You will be their messiah. You will lead them into the new world. Where once they spat on you, they will raise you above them all. You will save them even though they do not deserve it. What will you, High Priest of mine? Will you endure to save the world you know and love?"

San prostrated himself before you, both legs folded under him as his arms were held above his head, forehead pressed against the cool stones of your temple. "It is an honor to serve you, my Goddess. I will be your messiah."

You clapped your hands and thunder shook the room. "So mote it be."

San stood up suddenly, eyes scanning the room for anything for you to sit on, but what was good enough for a Goddess? You chuckled as his question flew across his face. "High priest?"

"Yes, Goddess?" San's eyes snapped to you, like a well trained dog.

"Pillows will suffice," You informed him cooly.

San scrambled to assemble pillows and cushions, plumping and fluffing the soft mounds until he was satisfied. He smiled eagerly and motioned with his arms that your throne was prepared. You laughed again. "San, they're for you. You're lying down."

San pointed a finger at himself in question. "Me?"

You sighed softly. "Humans."

You put a hand on San's broad shoulder and pushed him to his back onto the pillows. He stared up at you, blinking and curious as you discarded your dress. Two simple flicks of your fingers had the straps leaving your shoulders and your dress pooling at your feet. You were left in a simple chain that ran from your neck to your waist. You placed a knee on each side of San's head and tucked your legs under San's arms. 

San looked a bit dazed, you had to admit. He was looking up at your bare cunt and then he licked his lips. "I…"

"You won't find that knowledge while looking between my thighs, High Priest. Please inform me that you are aware of how to coax pleasure from a woman's petals?"

"I do!" San insisted, his eyebrows furrowing. "I've simply never… this is not my method."

You laughed again. "Of course it is not, San. It is mine."

San smiled, full of sunshine and aw-shucks. "I understand, Goddess."

You rested your weight on San's face and his tongue found your folds immediately. He closed his eyes upon the first taste of your essence. Then his tongue began to eagerly lap at you, simply for the taste, if anything. His tongue traced your inner lips, following the lines of those folds until he found your sensitive nub. His eyes snapped upwards to meet yours as he sharpened his tongue and circled the sweet flesh. 

"You have but one goal in this, High Priest. If you search for the knowledge, the mysteries of this world, and the secrets that the shadows keep, you must bring me to completion and drink me down. Only once you've received my knowledge, will your journey begin. I will be with you for every step, but only you can move your feet. Bring me to--"

Your breath caught in your throat as San's tongue had found your hole and began to thrust in and out of you. You sent him a stern look. "San."

San let his head fall back but the confidence that leaked into his tone was apparent. "Yes, Goddess?"

"Perhaps the women you pleased previously found it charming that you cut off their words but you will find that I am not a patient goddess."

San shivered under you and curled his arms around your thighs that gleamed with the dust of an immortal. "Yes, Goddess. I simply seek to give you everything before I am broken."

You let him get away with this, although you did not show this on your face. "Proceed."

San licked at your entrance, your essence beginning to accumulate there as a result of his hard work. Sometimes he closed his eyes to take in everything his eyes could not and sometimes he would not even blink, as if he was drinking in your reactions instead of your essence. His tongue was certainly skilled, flicking with accuracy. 

But it was not until you pushed his hair out of his eyes that he moaned into your mound and shifted upwards. His lips wrapped around your clit and he sucked, hard. It brought you to place your hands on the floor, bracing against the stone. The reaction only made him more enthusiastic. He greedily sucked at your swollen flesh, tongue lathing back and forth until you felt your climax approaching. So soon? Were you not a goddess? Was this really how you were to bestow the knowledge of--

What if you didn't get your key?

"Stop!" You demanded hoarsely.

"Goddess?" San let his head fall back. 

"This isn't right," You said and you could feel the fear aching from your heart.

"Am I…am I not--"

You stood up, your pleasure forgotten. This wasn't right! You weren't a goddess and San was not a High Priest. But then what were you? Or San?

"Have I offended you? Did I do something wrong? Please, let me try again, surely I can--!"

You turned on your heel and met the eyes of San that were now full with tears of disappointment. 

"Do not patronize me, San. Just because I cannot say what is wrong at this moment, does not mean I am wrong."

A gleam suddenly appeared in San's eyes, one that held knowledge and amusement. "He said you were strong."

You narrowed your eyes at San. "He who?"

San pouted but it was not genuine, it was a mockery of a true pout. "But we were having so much fun!"

"I can win this yet," You said with determination. "This game of yours will not swallow me whole."

"Would you up the ante, traveler?" San cocked his head curiously.

You knew you had to win a game but then why would San put you as the one in power? Was it a ploy to suck you into said game concretely? You had broken the cardinal rule and you weren't playing with him now. How did this game work exactly? 

"High Priestess?" San lured you back to his world.

"I am--" You blinked profusely. You felt yourself being pulled in deep, despite your desperate attempts to stay afloat. You had to…

You were on your knees now, prostrated before the God to whom you worshiped since you were dedicated to this temple. San was the God of Secrets, the God of Mysteries, the God of knowledge unknown. Your thirst for knowledge had shot you to the High Priestess role and it felt like you were born for it.

"I will bestow upon you the knowledge of the unknown. I will slip between your thighs and penetrate you, but only if you allow me the honor. This is the only way for the seed of knowledge to enter you. Others have attempted to receive it through their mouth but," San chuckled darkly, "They did not survive. Do you accept this method, High priestess of mine?"

You nodded quickly, sharp jerks of your head rattling the heavy earrings. "The honor would be mine, San."

San cupped your jaw, thumb running over your lips. "Although it will be a shame for these lips to not pleasure my cock."

"San!" Your hands moved to his loincloth, made of shadows, but his other hand slapped them away. 

"Go make yourself a bed of pillows and I shall be the one to worship you," San commanded.

You scrambled to do as you were told, your nerves making you jittery. You hadn't felt this excited for sex since… well, awhile. Men often found their pleasure between your thighs and it was up to you to find your own. But to receive knowledge through the act, surely that was truly as it was meant to be?

Knowledge…to be received…were you here to win a game? Weren't you here for… a key?

"Goddess?"

San was before you, on his knees and a hesitant hand resting on your hip, unsure if he was allowed to touch you.  "I am worthy, am I not? To receive your knowledge? I am worthy to be between your thighs?"

You smiled tenderly down at the man who fed you with his prayers. "You are my chosen one."

San smiled so happily, it made his eyes disappear but his feelings did not. "I am yours, mind, heart and soul."

You carded your hand through his hair and then gripped it tightly, making San hiss in pleasure with the tightness of his scalp. "You are mine, San. No one shall touch you after this. A celibate High Priest is what I require. Your only pleasure will only be sought through me, is that understood?"

San was pliant in your hand and he began to whimper. "Yours, Goddess, I'm all yours."

You pushed him backwards and he caught himself with his elbows holding his upper body up. His eyes were eager and excited. "My pleasure is yours."

You turned to discard your dress, spun of shadows and mysteries. Your cunt ached for that skilled tongue--wait, was this first time you had shown yourself to your high priest? How did you know his tongue was skilled?

You spun around on your heel but San was standing in front of you. His skin sparkled with the dust of an immortal. His arms were crossed over his chest and your lips ached to kiss his bronze flesh. He was the god you had dedicated your life to worshiping, he--

He's a demon

San was grinning like he knew of a joke that would make you belly laugh. "Oh, he should be worried. You're going to give him a run for his money, aren't you?"

You needed to get that damn key!

The scene reset again and you decided that this was the final time. You were the goddess and you were going to get what you came here for. San was a formidable opponent but this would not be the last story you experienced.

San bent his neck in acknowledgement. "Yes, Goddess. It would be my honor."

"The knowledge is inside of you, San. But you need me to release it. I'm the lock and you're the key. Come between my thighs, release the seed of knowledge and your journey will begin."

You were standing upright, the dainty body chain and glimmer of your body your only ornaments. San gripped his hard cock and rubbed the tip against your clit. Pangs of lust echoed your lower half.

"Does that please you, Goddess?" San wondered, eyes dark with lust.

"Just like that, San, you're doing--" You choked on your words as San pulled your body against his so that his cock was now nestled between your thighs. 

His mouth was at your neck, licking and sucking the sensitive skin there. You let out a garbled noise as San began to thrust between your thighs. He moaned loudly, the top of his cock running along your wet folds and the sides of his cock pushing through the plushness of your thighs. "Feels so good," San whined.

"You have to release inside of me, San," You insisted, "Stop this--" The length of his wet cock running across your clit was wonderful, however.

"You taste like ambrosia," San murmured against your skin. Your hand cupped the back of his neck to encourage him. "Let me have you for an eternity," San whispered into your ear, "We need never stop."

San cocked one of your legs, palm supporting your thigh from underneath. He continued to run the head of his cock up and down your slit, precum and your earlier wetness making the job easier. "I--"

San entered you and anything intelligent that was about to leave your mouth was gone. His girth alone was something to be pleased about. He stretched you in a way that was pleasant and pleasurable. You could only whimper as it went on and on and you were surprised once he was full hilt inside of you. Your leg was curled around his slim waist. San's hand traveled along your thigh to finally get a handful of your ass. "You are everything I need, my Goddess."

"San, why--?"

San captured your lips in a passionate kiss that stole your breath away. "I have dedicated my life to you. Shouldn't I dedicate this moment to you as well?"

"Fuck me, San, fuck me so well I’m incoherent," You encouraged him. 

"As my goddess wishes," San ducked his head and did as he was commanded.

The waves San made between your thighs would make the Nile jealous with its strength. He wasn't doing it to be rough or hard, no, it was the quiet strength of a river carving a new path through rock. The accuracy with his hips rivaled that of his tongue. Each measured stroke inside of you gave you butterflies but pulled a moan from your mouth. Your breathing came out in sharp cries and pants. You so very much wanted to beg but you were supposed to be the one in control, so you instructed him. 

“Let’s come together, High Priest.” Your hands sought his chest, raking your nails down the muscles there, enjoying the red marks that followed.

San's arms moved to circle your upper body, squeezing and squeezing as his climax soon approached. Your breath became shortened as your own pleasure sought release. You came with a tiny squeak, barely any air to make a noise. Once your pussy walls clenched down in climax, San was gone, coming with a long, drawn out whine with you. He released you after his orgasm and air rushed into your lungs.

San had squeezed you so hard that you had a scratch in the valley of your breasts. San licked it up instinctively and you shivered. "A goddess' blood is not for mortals to taste," You scolded him in amusement 

"Neither is their essence nor their sweet depths, but I've tasted both," San said with a sweet, lazy smile, slow to grow. 

"If I didn't have a consort, you would be tempting, High Priest," You sighed, tapping his nose.

San's face fell in disappointment. "I wasn't lying. I have dedicated my life to you. Could I not receive the same in return?"

You shook your head. "You ask for too much."

San's voice turned cold and you shuddered. "You can't defeat him, you know."

"Defeat who, San?"

San rolled his eyes and sighed. 

The air tensed, warping and stretching and suddenly it snapped and you were back in the History Section. San was no longer covered in black hieroglyphic tattoos but a vest that barely covered his broad chest, leaving his stomach exposed nonetheless, shiny leather pants and wrist high gloves. San found the scroll you had disappeared in and snapped the snake off the rawhide. He handed his key to you but kept your hand in his grip tight.

"What do you think happens when you get all the keys?" San questioned you.

"Seonghwa unlocks the restricted section for me and I get the treasure," You said without hesitation.

San snickered. "All those six hard quests and it's just that easy?"

That made you uncertain. He was right. Surely there would be more than just the six trials. But then…?

"Surely you haven't been talking about Seonghwa this whole time, have you? He's more like the library's adopted cat than Keeper of the Keys."

San's face was sobering. "You'd do well not to underestimate the Keeper."

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes. "He's not intimidating in the slightest. You worry too much for a demon."

San shrugged. "Well, I did my best to warn you, Goddess."

Your mind was sharpened after the History Section. You did not let it wander with thoughts of what you just experienced but you did find yourself searching out a very specific smell that brought you to the desk that Seonghwa always seemed to occupy.

"Did you really get cookies?" You demanded incredulously.

"I'll have you know I found Wooyoung in the creepy doll house, singing some creepy song just so I could bake you these!" Seonghwa frowned heavily.

You were about to grab one when you remembered many many stories of fools who ate food of a realm and were stuck there for eternity. Maybe eating the cookies was a bad idea.

Seonghwa watched you with sad eyes as you took your hand back from the plate. "Key?"

You handed him the snake and watched him as he lifted the cover to the display case and sunk it in with the other three. Which reminded you immediately to confirm your suspicions.

Seonghwa turned around and his eyes widened to the size of saucers when you unbuttoned your shirt and there was a pyramid nestled between your breasts now. “San give you that?”

You half smiled back at him. “Seems so.”

Seonghwa licked his lips. “Only two more to go now, huuuu…huh?”

You laughed under your breath at Seonghwa’s new attempts to stop calling you human. You were sobered at the thought of just how deep San’s story had pulled you in, however. You barely fought back. And San kept alluding to a ‘him’ but never confirmed or denied that it was Seonghwa or not.

“Keeper?” 

Seonghwa’s eyes snapped up from staring at the pyramid tattoo. “Yes?”

“You are who you say you are, are you not?”

Seonghwa smiled, full of awkwardness. “I am the Keeper of the Keys. Nothing more, nothing less.”

You searched his honest face for a hint if Seonghwa was lying. “Is there another section I don’t know about? Another demon you’re not to tell me?”

Seonghwa shook his head. “Not that I’m aware of.”

You sent him a skeptical look and he shrugged his shoulders. “Fine. I’m leaving. Try not to miss me too much."

"Guess I'll eat these cookies myself," Seonghwa grumbled under his breath. You heard spitting noises followed by a "Who put raisins instead of chocolate? WOOYOUNG?!"

The next section had a sign that was a wooden oar, vine's draped around it and the word Adventure spelled out using iridescent beetles. You could hear the chattering of monkeys and the roar of a waterfall. You really hoped you survived this next story. You had a feeling that the fight to survive and revive your love was slipping from your grasp but you refused to let it go without a fight.

Tag list: @yoonguurt  @hijirikaww  @flowerboykun  @starillusion13  @flurrys-creativity  @kitten4sannie  @a-soft-hornytiny

Library staff: @kwanisms   @smallfrye  @anyamaris   @stardragongalaxy   @kpop-stories-21

↫The Science Fi Section ↭ MasterList ↭The Adventure Section↬

[kiteblue42]

Part 2 of - what the heck is going on with Mobius anyway?

S2e3 - the one where Renslayer calls him out on his BS.

Rather like S1e3 there’s actually not that much Mobius in this episode (I mean he’s in the action but we’re not getting that much insight). Non-the-less I managed to stream of consciousness myself through a lot of words….

(1) Mobius is very into his job & is good at it.

Nothing makes Mobius happier than working a case - yes he has fun at the fair but he is always on it: he knows his history of Chicago, he finds the bread crumbs etc - he’s basically showing rookie Loki how to do the good old fashioned leg work). More generally Mobius sees the bigger picture and steers Loki to the decision to get Victor Timely back to the TVA.

(2) Mobius / Renslayer

Because I love Mobius I kind of want to think Mobius is hurt and misses his friend and really wants her back on their side and is genuinely being forgiving and lovely. But - no - I actually think most of the interaction with Ravonna could be read as Mobius being pretty manipulative. We know he can act in a manipulative way after the interrogation scenes in s2e2. He sees the bigger picture and thinks Ravonna / Miss Minutes could be useful or at least he wants to neutralise them. He has not forgotten she tried to kill himself & Loki (mentioned it a couple of times). And he wants to bring back Timely because he thinks “we’ll never get Renslayer to help us” Compared to scenes with Loki Mobius seems pretty in control of his emotions when dealing with her. Ravonna knows him pretty well and doesn’t buy his soft speeches either “none of your words mean a thing”.

I am very interested in what Ravonna meant by her little speech on: “ tidying up your messes - doing your dirty work - making the hard decisions you never had the nerve to make.” Along side the “soft spot for broken things” comment it seems Ravonna has quite a bit of insight into Mobius. In the end Mobius leaves her to Sylvie with only a slight look of regret.

3) order and chaos - opposites - partners

So the order & chaos theme gets overtly introduced by Victor Timely in the loom presentation. The camera pans to Loki and Mobius which is probably not a coincidence. We get the same cut away to Loki and Mobius when Renslayer engages with this theme.

The obvious takeaway is the Renslayer is order and Sylvie chaos given how the scene plays out but the cut aways do seem important.

Then we also have a theme of partnerships.

Timely brings this up first with “I don’t do partnerships”. Others have written very interesting stuff on these themes (@charcubed : https://www.tumblr.com/charcubed/731718717278502912/heres-your-fun-keycode-for-mirroring-in-loki & @loki-who-remains https://www.tumblr.com/loki-who-remains/731775874980069376/the-dichotomy-of-order-and-chaos-is-so- & https://www.tumblr.com/teamtardis-notdead/731724045258817537/all-that-matters-is-order-vs-chaos

From a Mobius pov the options are just Renslayer / Mobius and Loki /Mobius. So order / order and order / chaos. Renslayer / Mobius was a disaster and no more (there is no “we”). But according to Mobius s2e2 “opposites attract? No!”

The future …?

I’ve said before that “Mobius watch” puts him slipping into a pretty dark place from at least S1e4. His partnership with Loki is working very well (possibly too well as others have pointed out). But it seems likely he sees no future in it - it’s a “now” thing. The same with his role at the TVA. He clearly loves that job but has it been rendered meaningless or even plain wrong.

I don’t buy this version of Mobius being content with a regular job on the timeline either - certainly not jet ski salesman - there’s too much of the TVA analyst in him. So what’s left?Of all the characters we have Mobius is least well equipped to deal with the future because he is focused exclusively on now, his main relationship is with Loki (which he does not think will last) and he has ambiguous feelings towards his job with was the only thing giving him meaning. If there’s a sacrifice to be made he’s an obvious candidate - also Renslayer practically calls him out to make a hard choice so no doubt we will see him make one.

So that’s depressing- still at least we’ll get to see Owen Wilson killing it (I am so impressed with him in this show!).

[always-outlander]

Outlander 7x05 Easter Eggs and Spoilers - “Singapore”

Spoilers below the cut!

Singapore is the name of this episode, and it opens with goats on a cliff face. This is in reference to the Highlander’s whom fight for the British, we later find out. The title is a direct reference to the battle of Singapore and the attack of the Japanese, which Claire describes to Jamie as a parallel with the impending attack on the fort, which informs his actions for the episode.

Lallybroch

Gem and Mandy are playing in a graveyard, as Mandy wanted to talk to Jamie. Jemmy tells Bree that Jamie told him to leave him a stone and built him a cairn if he ever came to Lallybroch. I try very hard to tolerate Sophie’s acting but she’s so wooden at times. Other times she’s fine (mainly in the more emotional scenes) but her line delivery is quite hard to swallow sometimes. She has changed her pronounciation of ‘Da’ like 4 times now, and that’s hard for me to ignore.

Roger and Bree read another letter from Jamie and Claire. The letter is dated June 18, 1777, which is our ONLY way of knowing the timeline and how much time has passed between episodes. In it, Claire writes that Jamie continues to dream about the children and Bree reveals she’s been to the fort before with Frank. Her and Roger decide not to look at the history books and find out what happened there.

Before Bree heads to work, these two have another attempt at a romantic scene that doesn’t quite land (a hard hat in bed and his hands down her pants just made me uncomfortable). These two try but they just don’t have it!!!! And I think Richard Rankin could if he wasn’t opposite Sophie, as he is a great actor.

Jemmy gets off the bus from school and Roger follows him into his hide out (which I think is referenced in the books as a place Fergus used to play). Roger tries to talk to him about it and Jemmy says he got in trouble at school for defending their family in Gaelic. This child actor playing Jemmy is so great!!! He’s doing such a good job!

Ticonderoga

They have now been there for months, and Jamie once again organically finds himself leading men, this time they refer to themselves as ‘Fraser’s Irregulars.’ Claire is practicing medicine under Lieutenant Stactoe, and the fort is under the command of Saint Clair. We also meet General Formoy (who is mirroring the ignorance of the Bonny Prince). Ian has reunited with them as well.

Sugarloaf hill is mentioned as a point the English can attack from. For those unfamiliar with the location of Fort Ticonderoga, it sits on the edge of the New York and Vermont boarders, along a narrow portion of Lake Champlain. The fort is surrounded by water on three sides, and as of now it doesn’t look like there is a Sugarloaf hill near the site. There’s a sugarloaf ski mountain in Maine, though!

Jamie has a dejavuex moment with Formoy when he uses his knowledge to advice against an attack and is found denied and insulted, akin to a goat for being Scottish (like the episode preview implies). Jamie is once again being sidelined and watching history repeat itself with the ignorance of leaders like Formoy and the Bonnie Prince (and simultaneously history is…happening? But where they know the outcome, could you consider that history repeating itself?).

Denzel Hunter and Claire finally meet towards the end of the episode and the two of them help a man named Walter Woodcock together. It’s the dream team finally united! They successfully opperate on Mr. Woodcock and amputate his leg, but only after Denny so kindly recognizes Claire’s struggle to be taken seriously and back door allows for her to help him.

The Hunters and William

Denzel makes a comment about attending medical school in London via a distant relative after their parents died. Their mother died in childbirth having Rachel, and their father died a few years later in a flood having drown. The Quakers who took them in made that connection for Denzel when they learned of a shared last name Hunter, so this scene hammers home the importance of their Meeting (and reminds us that they are now kicked out).

William and Denzel debate over morals and how Denzel can be within his beliefs while practicing medicine. They come upon a man on the road who offers them a place to stay for the night and they are fed a disgusting meal of rat stew. William is shown the realities of the war and he and Rachel speak outside. In the few short scenes they’ve had you can tell William has a crush on her, which is exactly how the books describe their relationship from Williams internal monologue.

While sleeping, the Johnsons attempt to attack William, Denny and Rachel with knives and William is able to show his strength and skills as a fighter. Charles is such a great casting, as he is every bit the young man described in the book and his size and strength is akin to Jamie’s. The Johnson’s have evidently done this many times before so to steal from un expecting visitors.

William feels guilt over taking that man’s life and tells Rachel that he’d never killed anyone before. This scene you can see Jamie’s heart come through in him. He has a flurry of feelings about it that he cannot sort through and worries that Rachel might think less of him due to her beliefs but she reassures him she knows him well enough to know he did it to save them.

When they part William tells them to ask for his uncle should they run into trouble. He gives them the money from Ian and keeps the rosary beads. When Rachel watches him leave with fond eyes Denny reminds her that he is a British soldier, and violence follows men like that. There’s a sweet scene between the siblings where Denny gives Rachel an out, but she insists they stay together.

Loch Errochry

The Land Rover Bree and her boss drive around in is a dream, I want one. The setting is also stunning, having driven through the highlands last year it’s still so hard to believe that country looks like that. Bree meets her new male employees including Rob Cameron (!!!). He immediately locks her into the tunnel like a jackass and Bree discovers the light they gave her has no batteries. She quickly lights a match and finds some lights and proceeds to inspect the tunnel. I’d be clostrophobic down there and it feels like something out of a nightmare watching her walk through the tunnels.

She hears buzzing halfway down and a weird blue light at the end that she has to walk through (the graphics are strange but hey, hard to depict what was written) and it leads her to her escape. It’s implied that somewhere in the tunnel may be a portal for time travel.

Bree tells the kids at dinner about being trapped in the tunnel and how she escaped but you can tell she’s still unsettled by the event. Her and Roger step away from the table to discuss it. She’s worried the men are never going to respect her and Roger reminds her Claire did it at Harvard. A bit of a turn around from him being slightly sexist last episode about her working in general.

While in the office they uncover a hidden drawer in the desk and he gifts her a pen. Doesn’t undo his comments from last episode but that’s just me, and his insistence on her wearing knickers and a hard hat needs to stahhhhhp.

Bree heads to the bar where the men and Rob Cameron are hanging out and tries to awkwardly earn their respect. They all try and play it off as a joke and she tries to insert her dominance. Sophie also can’t say the word “anything” without a Scottish accent.

Young Ian

Joseph Brant of the Mohawk is at Shadow Lake and Ian is recruited to deliver a letter to him. Ian is reluctant because of personal reasons. He asks Claire how baby’s come to be and why he was unable to get his Mohawk wife pregnant. His belief is that his spirit was not strong enough and fears he cannot get a woman pregnant again and would refuse to take another wife. He tells Claire that Jamie told him about sperm and asks her to look at his (had to laugh). When asked, Ian tells her Iseabell was perfect and not deformed, but Claire has a Frank conversation to help Ian understand that it’s not a matter of his spirit but science and gives him renewed hope he may be able to have a child with another woman one day.

When he arrives at the Mohawk camp he sees Emily, who is happy to see him. She tells him she now has two children and is happy. Ian seems to finally be at peace with that, and asks to meet her son (who does not look Mohawk). He tells Ian that Emily’s mother tells him he’s the child of his spirit. Ian gives him the name Ian James and I’m sat here smiling like a fool over how cute that scene was.

Simon Fraser

One of the few scenes we get with Claire and a Jamie this episode, Jamie tells Claire that a Simon Fraser is one of Burgoyne brigadiers on the side of the British. Book readers will know that he is a ticket home to Scotland for them later on, and Jamie tells her it is not the same Simon Fraser she met in season 2 but not the old fox or his son but one of Jamie’s second cousins from Balnain (located outside of Inverness, not far from Loch Ness). It is also now understood that with their troops low on supplies they will need to attack the fort sooner than later. Jamie knows that a Fraser in the camp, the troops will know well enough to attack from higher ground as Highlanders do.

Jamie brings Formoy and the men to higher ground to show them that it is possible to the English can reach them by cannon, and once again finds himself standing across an incompetent soldier (with a terrible accent). These scenes are so short and choppy, and for that I dislike them. It’s not enough time with Jamie (or Claire for that matter) before we are abruptly switched over to another character. The atmosphere of them walking around at the Fort was palpable in the books, and we are missing it so far in the show sadly.

Later on the British set up shop in the exact place Jamie warned of, and Jamie uses his knowledge how Highlander warfare to help lead an evacuation by boat. Claire won’t allow Walter Woodcock to leave the fort because his injury is still too fresh, and sadly has to leave him. She tells him due to his injury the British will have to show him mercy, but also gives him laudanum. I was surprised she didn’t outright show him how to use it if he needed to drift off to sleep. The civilians are all put into boats in the lake and the fort is abandoned. The next sequence of events in the books is fairly action packed so I’m curious how they go about it all next episode.

Ian and Rachel

When Ian returns to the fort, he spots Rachel. A critique I have of this season is that they make the traveling seem so fast, and it’s incredibly hard to keep track of time passed. Ian was just in Virginia, now he’s suddenly back in New York. That said, these two have great chemistry without even trying, and Ian let’s Rachel know Claire is his aunt. It’s implied they will be seeing much more of one another, thankfully. I think the actors have done a great job of establishing the differences between Rachel and Ian and Rachel and William - Izzy plays Rachel differently around Ian and it’s great work on her part.

In the End

Roger goes out into the dark to search for the Nucklavee and we see a camera angle from across the yard watching the front door of the house. I suspect next episode we will actually set eyes on Buck for the first time.

The episode ends when Bree goes to the graveyard to talk to Jamie and brings him a stone. She tells him about her new job, buying Lallybroch, etc. and it fades to black (a weak ending and my least favorite thus far). Nothing happens this episode action wise, and it was mainly an episode used for establishing upcoming plot. The pacing is getting really bad in that such large expanses of tiem are not being explained. How in one episode did Jamie have two conversations about Sugarloaf Hill and the British Invasion, and The Hunters / William Travel by Horse to New York from Virginia, Ian leave camp to go see Emily and return…it’s so many moving parts and it’s not clear how they all make sense. Even having read the books I’m getting confused with how they are choosing to speed things up.

I will say this until I’m blue in the face, but this show works best when Claire and Jamie are together and on screen, and every time I dislike an episode it’s in large part due to a lack of them. That can be said with this episode, but I’m optimistic we will see much more of them next episode thanks for the preview.

Episode 6 Preview

Preview for episode 6 shows what looks to be an action filled attack on the Fort - we see Jamie attacking British soldiers, William in a red coat again, Roger running into the yard angrily, and Ian and Rachel getting closer. Lots of good things that I hope we get proper screen time to dissect.