#i altered some passages

[violet-eng]

F!reader spoils Lil Dragon!Zhongli... at first | Fluff🧸 (with dragon)+ 🔞 (with human Zhongli)

🎨by: @nagarnia_art and @JeanGreyCG

Summary: You're doing some research in the woods, looking for certain minerals, when you feel some tiny tiny eyes staring at you. After Zhongli morpps from a dragon to a human, things get a bit... hot...

Tw: with human Zhongli smut 🔞, PIV. Insinuations of breeding season, with dragon Zhongli just some cute Dragon behavior bc I ended up traumatized after writing some angst.

•┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈••✦ ● ✦••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•

Your research is going well. Your reports to the Fontaine Science Institute were successful during your last expedition, earning you praise from your superiors. You have been living in Liyue for over six months. After learning about minerals that can emanate energy, you sought out information to educate yourself on the subject. 

The rocks in Liyue seem to have a memory, possibly due to the work of their Archon or as a natural result of high evolution and energetic vestiges from ancient wars. 

Zhongli, the Parlor consultant, had told you about a spot at the foot of a valley that might interest you, and you were amazed. You had no reason to doubt the man's wisdom. You had formed a deep bond of friendship with him because you admire his extensive knowledge about everything. You set off almost immediately. He had offered to accompany you, but you had refused because you prefer to do your research alone, surrounded by nature and away from the attractive distraction that Zhongli could become.

Your friend is attractive, in a way that you tried to express in your letters to your friends at Fontaine, but never succeeded. Your banal words and names do not do justice to the physique of this man of unshakable character, steely sense, and tenacious gaze. You could not bear to make a mistake in his presence during the expedition, not because you were clumsy, but because his figure moved your senses, your ground, and betrayed your own perceptions.

So, as you walk through a pleasant area of foliage, covered by the fierce, scorching rays of the sun, you decide to let your guard down, to take off your jacket and your gloves. You use a ribbon to tie up your hair as you walk on, arriving at the place Zhongli had shown you beforehand. The passage is strangely comfortable, very suitable for a quiet investigation, full of strange figures of small rocks of irregular and curious shapes.

Under the canopy of large trees, you spread out your arsenal of tools on the grass, put on your protective visors, and get to work. Sequencing the rock profile takes little time, your agile skills allowing you to avoid unnecessary pauses or clumsy backtracking typical of an amateur. Then you take the samples, tiny particles that do not alter the correct and productive nature that King Geo has protected for years, and while you wait for the filtering to finish, a strange sensation runs down your spine.

You had let your guard down during your experiment, letting the peaceful appearance of the place convince you, something very unprofessional on your part. So you turn to the side and feel a presence. Among the bushes, you spot a pair of curious little spheres, and you jump as the leaves rustle in the presence of an unknown being. 

A deep relief washes over you as the creature in question appears on the scene. A small dragon, microscopic in physiognomy compared to adult forms, with curious eyes and a golden tail twisted into a spiral. Its little paws make furrows in the ground, its face dejected, as if it had been caught doing something illegal.

"Little one, have you been watching me all this time?" You ask the cute little creature, who hides his head between his front paws, realizing he can't do it with his tail, which isn't long enough.

"Come here, don't be afraid of me," you whisper, approaching it cautiously, holding out your hands.

The dragon gathers itself in its own anatomy, growling low, sounding almost like a common cat, you can't help but laugh at it. You bring your fingers up to the growling pellet and stroke its head, right between its underdeveloped horns. You notice a puff of breath coming from the little guy's nose.

"How cute, you liked that, didn't you?" you laugh as you stroke his head and then his back, causing the miniature dragon's tail to wag.

"Come, sit with me, we'll have to wait a long time until the filtering is finished," you take him in your hands, on your palms.

"Wow... I've never seen one of your species so small... and those scales," you comment, bringing your face close to the reptile's, "I'd swear you have very, very soft skin, you're very rare, uh," you add, while you turn to your tools, which emit a strange smell.

You leave the dragon on the ground and approach your machinery, no, nothing out of place... well, now you can turn your attention to the little guy who... what is he doing?

You notice the tiny creature rubbing against your foot, making strange squeaks. It's... it's mating with your shoe? You burst out laughing and shake your foot, pushing it away and picking it up again.

"You horny little bugger," you say, poking him in the nose, "I forgot that your species is in mating season. I regret to inform you that you will get nowhere with me, I am not of the same species... ours is impossible."

A sad sigh escapes from the little animal's chest, and you notice how its whole face becomes depressed, its horns and ears seem to droop in deep disappointment.

"Don't cry," you say, putting it on the ground in the grass and lying down in front of it, "we can play if you want, to distract you a little”.

That got his attention, because he looked at you again. He walks up to you with his little paws and puts one on your nose, he starts to sniff you with that little button in the middle of his little face.

"Ohhh... do you want a little kiss?" you ask, flooded with tenderness, "I would do anything to make you happy" you say, placing a tender kiss on the dragon's forehead. Is like a puppy...

The dragon retraces his steps, accelerating and rolling his head in madness. You see him writhing in place, as if he had suddenly fallen ill, and then... poof... a golden flash and a trail of smoke,  ike the one he had just exhaled through his nose. A faint wave of heat and a faint smell of sulfur as a figure began to form behind the column of smoke.

You straightened up in your seat as the column disintegrated, revealing the very embarrassed image of Zhongli, covering his mouth as he coughs, with traces of smoke and golden flames escaping from his throat.

He is wearing little clothing, a tunic of the same color as the skin of the dragon you spoke to earlier... is that perhaps...? 

"You," you point an accusing finger at Zhongli, and he looks at you with flushed cheeks, "what was that? Aren't you going to say anything about it?" you say to the man, appearing to be annoyed, although in reality, seeing him in that outfit has aroused something pleasurable in you.

"Well?" you insist.

"Are you going to give me that kiss or?" he interjects, his voice still weak and embarrassed.

His embarrassment fades for the next hour, during which he relentlessly thrusts himself into you, waiting for your boring explorer machine to end.

The filtering of the rocks continues, the particles falling into the vessel like sand in a crystal clock. The small machines emit tiny clicks and a faint plume of smoke and gas. The rumble of the cycle's drumbeat advances in rhythm with your moans as you feel Zhongli sink deep into you.

You lie on the grass, your pants and panties around your ankles, your hands on your head clinging to the foliage, your waist encircled by Zhongli's large hands holding you steady so he can work his way into your pussy. You feel his pelvic bone against your center, his balls against your skin, and then he pulls away to enter again. Gently, lovingly, afraid to break you and hurt you. He's painfully slow, but how good it feels.

You hear him make low, rasping noises as faint plumes of smoke rise from his nose, as when he looked like a dragon. His cock twists inside you, slapping against your cervix, massaging your wet, warm depths that mold to the shape of his member. You feel the warmth rush down your legs, an electric current coursing through every fiber of your limbs, your chest heaving in desperation.

The orgasm hits you both at the same time, decorating Zhongli's cock with a white ring as his cum spills into you like thick ropes from his ecstasy. He pulls back your panties and pants, leaving a chaste kiss on your cheek.

"May I mark you?" he asks with a look of honor, his face sublime and devoted.

"Don't even think about it," you say, joining in, noticing the sadness in his eyes, "we weren't even supposed to do it. It was just supposed to be a kiss and that's it," you seem to scold him, though it's you who's scolding yourself for being so unseemly and impetuous, though damn... you've enjoyed it so much... ....

Sensing your hostile tone, Zhongli wraps himself up and immediately transforms into his small reptilian form.

"Please stop being so dramatic," you express, leaning against one of the tree trunks and letting out a laugh. "Come back... I don't want to wait alone," you say, crossing your legs and putting your jacket down.

Zhongli, the dragon, approaches you with short steps, due to the length of his small legs, and climbs onto your lap, where he rubs the fabric of your coat, nestling into the fabric to take refuge, and lets out a yawn before closing his eyes and settling down for a nap. You stroke his back and coo to the little creature, feeling him purr like a cat.

"How cute you are when you sleep," you laugh, stroking his nose, causing him to bite your finger, "did you just mark me without my permission?" You ask, but he just squeals and jumps off your lap, looking for a way to escape. You catch him with your coat and throw it at him like a fleeing rat, but he manages to escape and hide in the bushes... you don't see him again for the rest of the afternoon, but you know that when you return to Liyue Harbour you will demand an apology, an explanation... and maybe a round two.

[autumnslance]

Ancient Transformation

I know how we all love to meme on how it's stated transformation is seen in the Ancient society, but I also tend to think it's one of those cases where the actual meaning of the passage has been, well, meme'd a little too far.

(Like how the devs have had to go out of their way to point out Estinien does bathe, guys, it was aetheric alteration to his armor, and he does regularly wear armor which might lead to funk and helmet hair but he likes to be clean when it's off.)

Let's look at the actual passage in the Elpis quest "Their Greatest Contribution" where they're trying to help the charybdis fly (bolding by me):

Hermes: I shall transform and fly with it, helping it to manipulate wind until it finds its wings. Troubled Observer: What!? Y-You needn't go to such lengths… (Emet-Selch notices the WoL's confusion) Emet-Selch: You don't know? But of course not… Emet-Selch: Transformation is an art in which one manipulates a vast quantity of aether to construct another body around oneself. Emet-Selch: In practice, this allows one to assume any conceivable form, and thereby transcend the limits of one's flesh. Emet-Selch: Yet convenient though it may be, transforming in the presence of others is considered vainglorious in the extreme. As uncouth and unseemly as running about robeless. Shameful. Emet-Selch: Am I to understand you make a habit of this? Hermes: N-Nothing of the sort. It's just that, when transformed, I can wield the wind and fly. Hermes: It may seem excessive, but what is our shame next to the lives of these creatures? Hermes: They deserve a chance, and we owe it to them to do all in our power! Emet-Selch: Be that as it may…

What everyone tends to focus on, of course, is his analogy of "running about robeless" and equating that it's the same as nudity. Which makes for funny memeing.

But look again at the actual description of how transforming is seen:

Yet convenient though it may be, transforming in the presence of others is considered vainglorious in the extreme.

"Vainglorious" is the adjective of "Vainglory" which Merriam-Webster defines as "excessive or ostentatious pride especially in one's achievements; vain display or show; vanity."

the "uncouth and unseemly" part isn't so much the nudity part, but the showing off. Visibly boasting about one's power and strength by displaying one's transformed state.

So why the nudity analogy? Well, for one, is it actually discussing nudity, or walking around in outfits/ways that don't conform to societal standards? Ancient society seemed to be striving for an egalitarian system, which their magics made easy enough, though there's still stratification of some kind (based on peoples' roles). But the robes and masks are an attempt to produce a visual equality among members with variable magical skill (and that would otherwise be seen via those transformations if they indulged in them). It's about the conformity (for better or worse) to community.

The other reason I can think for that analogy is how common Ancient Greek inspired words and names in Amaurot's world are. And what many people also equate to Ancient Greece, aside from the tales of the Olympians, is the myriad artwork, often in various forms of athletic bodies in competition, whether war or sports. While there's plenty of fully clothed/armored imagery, classic nudes are common imagery in popular culture and not even in a sexual way; they're showing off their prowess as athletes and warriors.

(The third possible reason is Emet-Selch has ever been a Dramatic Bitch Like That and tends to the theatrical in his wording, even at his most traditional and conservative.)

Emet-Selch's concern about Hermes transforming is because it's considered bad manners to just transform on a whim--because it would indicate he's a boastful show off, or reliant on his transformed state, or otherwise cavalier about societal norms--which however one reads the line about transformations, would, from Emet-Selch's view, be a bad look for a potential member of the Convocation!

And the poor charybdis observer is all too aware that a member of the Convocation is standing right there, boss! Even if this is something Hermes does at times in extreme cases to aid their creations in his role as chief, this is not the best time to break out the transformation, even for the sake of a troubled creature.

And of course we do eventually see Hermes in his transformed state, and just how capable he is at manipulating wind magics in it.

In the end, the question of transforming for something as simple as the charybdis's struggles strikes me as yet another indicator, despite his mentor's nomination, that Hermes was not Convocation material despite his role as Elpis's chief; his shaken state post-Ktisis would be seen as a reaction to the "accident", and he likely knew how to mask (in the social emotional sense) and give the right answers despite his own depression and doubts. And with none but Venat remembering what else happened in those days at the facility, he managed to obtain the role anyway, now that he believed his Meteion project to have failed.

[brotherconstant]

GIFMAKING TUTORIAL: PHOTOPEA (for Windows)

Screencapping

Gif Width/Size Limit/Ezgif

Loading Frames

Cropping and Resizing

Rasterize/Make Frames

Sharpening

Coloring (not detailed. Links to other tutorials included)

Exporting

Obligatory Mentions: @photopeablr ; @miwtual ; @benoitblanc ; @ashleysolsen Definitely check out these blogs for tips, tutorials and resources, they're a gold mine. Finally I recommend browsing the PHOTOPEA TUTORIAL / PHOTOPEA TUTORIAL GIF tags. DISCLAIMER: English is not my first language and I'm not an expert on what I'm going to discuss, so if anything's unclear feel free to drop another ask.

1. SCREENCAPPING -> PotPlayer (the one I use) or MVP or KMPlayer

INSTALL PotPlayer (tutorial)

Play your movie/episode and press Ctrl + G. The Consecutive Image Capturer window will pop up. Click Start to capture consecutive frames, Stop when you got what you needed.

Where it says "Image Type -> Format" I recommend picking PNG, for higher quality screencaps.

To access the folder where the screencaps are stored, type %appdata% in windows search, open the PotPlayerMini64 folder (or 32, depending on your system) and then the Capture folder. That's where you'll find your screencaps.

Admittedly MVP is a lot faster but I prefer Potplayer because it generates (at least in my case) higher quality screencaps. MVP kind of alters the hue and it made it harder for me to color my gifs. Still, if you're interested in how to use it, I recommend this tutorial.

As for KMPlayer, every tutorial out there is outdated and I couldn't figure out the new version of the software.

2. GIF WIDTH/HEIGHT, SIZE LIMIT, EZGIF OPTMIZER

At this point you should already know how big your gifs are going to be. Remember the ideal gif width(s) on tumblr are 540 px / 268 px / 177 px. These specific numbers take into account the 4 px space between the gifs. No restrictions on height. Here are some examples:

You can play around with the height (177x400, 177x540, 268x200, 268x268, 268x350, 268x400, 540x440, 540x500, 540x540 etc) but if you go over the 10 MB limit you'll either have to make your gifs smaller/delete some frames.

OR you can go on ezgif and optimize your gif, which is usually what I do. The quality might suffer a little, but I'm not really (that) obsessed with how crispy my gifs look, or I'd download photoshop.

Depending on the gif size, you can decrease the compression level. I've never had to go over 35. It's better to start at 5 (minimum) and then go from there until you reach your desired ( <10mb) gif size. Now that I think about it I should have included this passage at the end of the tutorial, I guess I'll just mention it again.

3. LOAD YOUR FRAMES

File -> Open... -> Pick one of your screencaps. The first one, the last one, a random one. Doesn't matter. That's your Background.

File -> Open & Place -> Select all the frames (including the one you already loaded in the previous passage) you need for your gif and load them.

(I recommend creating a specific folder for the screencaps of each gif you're going to make.)

WARNING: When you Place your screencaps make sure the Crop tool is NOT selected, especially if you've already used it and the width/height values have been entered. It will mess things up - I don't know why, could be a bug.

You can either select them all with Ctrl+A or with the method I explained in the ask: "when you want to select more than one frame or all frames at once select the first one, then scroll to the bottom and, while pressing Shift, select the last one. this way ALL your frames will be selected".

WARNING: Depending on how fast your computer is / on your RAM, this process may take a while. My old computer was old and slow af, while my new one can load even a 100 frames relatively fast, all things considered. Even so, I recommend ALWAYS saving your work before loading new frames for a new gif, because photopea might crash unexpectedly. Just save your work as often as you can, even while coloring or before exporting. Trust me, I speak from experience.

Now you can go ahead and delete the Background at the bottom, you won't need it anymore.

4. CROPPING AND RESIZING

Right now your screencaps are still smart objects. Before rasterizing and converting to frames, you need to crop your gif.

Technically you can rasterize/convert to frames and then crop, BUT if you do it in that order photopea will automatically delete the cropped pixels, even if you don't select the "Delete Cropped Pixels" Option. Might be another bug, unclear. Basically, if you crop your gif and then realize you cropped a little too much to the left or the right, you can go ahead, select the Move Tool (shortcut: V) and, after selecting ALL YOUR FRAMES, move them around on your canvas until you are satisfied. You won't be able to do this if you rasterize first and then crop, the excess pixels will be deleted. I don't know why, I found out by accident lol.

CROPPING

(Cropped pixels: the gray/opaque area outside of the selected area. That area disappears once you press enter and crop, but the pixels are retained, so you can move the frames around and reposition them as you like. In this case I could move the frames to the left and include Silver's figure [curly guy in the foreground] in the crop)

After deleting the Background, you will need to select all your frames (using the Shift key), use the C shortcut on your keyboard to choose the Crop tool. Or you can click on it, whatever's more convenient. Once you do that, a dropdown menu is going to appear. You need to select the "FIXED SIZE" option, as shown in the following screencap.

Once you do that, you can type in your desired width and height. Do not immediately press enter.

Your work area should now look like this. Now you can click on one of the white squares and enlarge the selected area until the edges are lined up. You can then move it around until it covers the area you wish to gif.

WARNING: to move the big rectangle around, you're gonna have to click on a random point of the work area, PREFERABLY not to close to the rectangle itself, or you might accidentally rotate it.

See? When your cursor is close to the selected area it turns into this rotating tool. Move it away until it reverts to your usual cursor, then you can start moving the rectangle. Press Enter when you're satisfied with the area you selected.

RESIZE

This isn't always necessary (pretty much never in my case) - and it's a passage I often forget myself - but it's mentioned in most of the tutorials I came across over the years, so I'd be remiss if I didn't include it in mine. After cropping, you'll want to resize your image.

IMAGE -> Image Size...

This window will pop up. Now, should the values in the Width and Height space be anything other than 540 and 400 (or the values you entered yourself, whatever they might be) you need to correct that. They've always been correct in my case, but again. Had to mention it.

5. RASTERIZE & MAKE FRAMES

Now that your screencaps are cropped, you can go ahead and convert them.

LAYER -> Rasterize (if you skip this passage you won't be able to Sharpen (or use any filter) on your frames at once. You'll have to Sharpen your frames one by one.

Photopea doesn't feature a timeline and it's not a video editor, which makes this passage crucial. When you select all your smart objects and try to apply a filter, the filter will only by applied to ONE frame. Once you rasterize your smart objects and make them into frames, you can select them all and sharpen them at once. Unfortunately this also means that you won't be able to - I don't know how to explain this properly so bear with me - use all smart filters/use them in the same way a photoshop user can. For example, you can sharpen / remove noise / add noise / unsharp mask... but you can't act on those filters in the same way a photoshop user can. When you work on smart objects you can change the blend mode - which is critical if you decide to use a filter like High Pass. If you simply apply a high pass filter on photopea you won't be able to change the blend mode and your gif will look like this (following screencaps). Or rather, you will be able to change the blend mode by clicking on the little wheel next to "High pass" (circled in green in the 2nd screencap), but you'll have to apply the filter to each frame manually, one by one.

Then you can rasterize/make into frames, but it's extremely time consuming. I did it once or twice when I first started making gifs and it got old pretty soon haha.

Layer -> Animation -> Make frames. This passage will add "_a_" at the beginning of all your frames and it's what allows you to make a (moving) gif. As I said in the ask, if you skip this passage your gif will not move.

6. SHARPENING

Some people prefer to color first and sharpen later, but I found that sharpening filters (more or less) dramatically alter the aspect of your gif and already brighten it a bit (depending on your settings) and you may end up with an excessively bright gif.

Now, sharpening settings are not necessarily set in stone. The most popular ones are 500/0.4 + 10/10, which I use sometimes. But you may also need to take into account the quality of the files you're working with + the specific tv show you're giffing. I've been using different settings for pretty much every tv show I gif, especially in the last couple months. Some examples:

followed by

OR

AMOUNT: 500% RADIUS 0.3px followed by AMOUNT: 20% (or 10%) RADIUS 10px

You'll just need to experiment and see what works best for your gifs.

Some gifmakers use the UNSHARP MASK filter as well (I think it's pretty popular among photopea users?) but it makes my gifs look extra grainy, makes the borders look super bright and it clashes with my coloring method(s), so I use it rarely and with very moderate settings. Something like this:

Again, depends on the gif and on what you like. I've seen it used with great results by other gifmakers!

REDUCE NOISE

Sometimes - and this is especially the case for dark scenes - your gif may look excessively grainy, depending on how bright you want to make it. Reducing noise can help. Keep it mind, it can also make it worse and mess up the quality. BUT it also reduces the size of your gif. Obviously, the higher the settings, the more quality will suffer.

These are my standard settings (either 2/70% or 2/80%). It's almost imperceptible, but it helps with some of the trickier scenes.

ADDING NOISE

Adding noise (1% or 2% max) can sometimes help with quality (or make it worse, just like reduce noise) but it will make your gif so so so much bigger, and occasionally damage the frames, which means you won't be able to load your gif on tumblr, so I rarely use it.

You'll also want to create ACTIONS which will allow you to sharpen your gifs much faster.

HOW TO CREATE AN ACTION ON PHOTOPEA

The Action Button (shaped like a Play button as you can see in the following screencaps) may not be there if you're using photopea for the first time. If that's the case click on the magnifiying glass next to "Account" (in red) and type "actions". Press Enter and the button should immediately show up.

Once you do that, click on the Folder (circled in yellow)

and rename it however you like.

now click on New Action (circled in red). now you can press the Recording button (circled in green)

Now

FILTERS -> Smart Sharpen

and you can enter your values. Then you repeat this passage (WITHOUT pressing rec, WITHOUT pressing new action or anything else, you just open the smart shapen window again) and, if you want, you can sharpen your gif some more (10%, 10px, or anything you want.)

Maybe, before creating an action, experiment with the settings first and see what works best.

When you're satisfied, you can PRESS STOP (it's the rec button, which is now a square) and you can DOWNLOAD your action (downwards facing arrow, the last button next to the bin. Sorry, forgot to circle it) .

You need to download your action and then upload it on your photopea. When you do, a window will pop up and photopea will ask you whether you wish to load the action every time you open the program. You choose "Okay" and the action will be loaded in the storage.

When you want to sharpen your gif, you select all your frames, then you click on the Play button, and select the Action, NOT the folder, or it won't work.

Actions can also be created to more rapidly crop and convert your frames, but it doesn't always work on photopea (for me at least). The process is exactly the same, except once you start recording you 1) crop your gif as explained in step 4, 2) convert into frames. Then you stop the recording and download the action and upload it. This won't work for the Rasterize step by the way. Just the Animation -> Make Frame step.

7. COLORING

Now you can color your gif. I won't include a coloring tutorial simply because I use a different method for every tv show I gif for. You normally want to begin with a brightness or a curve layer, but sometimes I start with a Channel Mixer layer to immediately get rid of yellow/green filters (there's a tutorial for this particular tool which you will find in the list I mention in the link below)

[Plus I'm not really an authority on this matter as my method is generally... fuck around and find out. Two years of coloring and I still have no idea what I'm doing. 70% of the time.]

Simple Gif Coloring for Beginners -> very detailed + it includes a pretty handy list of tutorials at the bottom.

8. EXPORTING

Now you can export your gif. Some gifmakers export their (sharpened) gifs BEFORE coloring and then load the gifs on photopea to color them. I'm not sure it makes any difference.

FILE -> EXPORT AS -> GIF

(not colored, just sharpened)

As you can see, unlike photoshop the exporting settings are pretty thread bare. The only option available is dither - it sometimes help with color banding - which, and I'm quoting from google for maximum clarity:

"refers to the method of simulating colors not available in the color display system of your computer. A higher dithering percentage creates the appearance of more colors and more detail in an image, but can also increase the file size."

SPEED

When you export your gif, it will play at a very decreased speed (100%). I usually set it at 180/190%, but as for every other tool, you might want to play around a little bit.

GIF SIZE/EZGIF OPTIMIZER (See Step 2)

And that's it.

P.S.: worth repeating

Save your work as often as you can, even while coloring or before exporting.

[wings-of-ink]

Chapter 3 is Live!

Hello everyone! I hope you are doing well.

Just wanted to announce that the demo for God-Cursed has been updated to include chapter 3. It has been submitted as part of the Amare Games Festival 2024. I don't believe it will be game-breaking if you do not fully restart, but I recommend that you try to zip through the first chapters if you are only wanting to see what’s new in chapter 3.

https://wings-of-ink.itch.io/god-cursed

Some notes on the update if you are interested…

Chapter 3 is quite large and has more than doubled the word count - but keep in mind that includes coding and text that is entered for multiple passages. This chapter was actually shortened from my original vision to accommodate time constraints and as the current ending point provided a natural break after a very hefty segment. Unfortunately, you will have to wait a bit to meet the last of the ROs.

Several general updates were made and even to chapters 1 & 2 were touched up. This includes:  simple corrections to typos and grammar, the altering of some values for certain variables, the addition of MC hair customization options (white hair added, option to have MC go grey as well), and some general improvements to some of the text.

The Codex was also updated with a good bit of pantheon information, the contrast color for dark mode links was improved, a link to a bug/error report form was added to the menu, and trigger warnings were updated to include things that will come up even beyond chapter 3.

Chapter 3 will continue to be refined as it did not get the amount of editing and testing that I would have liked, and there’s one or two smaller extras that I didn’t have time to add. Please report errors to me via the linked Google form in the game menu - nothing is too small. I think I caught the biggest, game-breaking, errors over the weekend, but there’s likely some issues with code floating around. If you are uncomfortable using the form, you can send me an Ask through Tumblr as well.

I hope you enjoy this little update! I found it enjoyable but not as exciting as I would have hoped (personally), though there are some very fun antics you can get up to. The next installment will have a lot more adventure (and mishaps), and you’ll finally get to meet all the main players of your story!

Take care!

~ Lunan

[aridante]

literature and media and the way we engage with them and the passage of time and our own psyches are all so insane. perspective is so mutable. opinion is plastic and the way you love characters and the eyes with which you watch your favorite episode of television or movie and the mind with which you read an old book from your adolescence can be made like completely new again because you met some random person or watched some other show or read a different book or just turned 25 or your cat died or something. like fiction is insane isn’t it. i just love that the same characters, unmoving and unchanging, living the same lives, saying the same lines and carrying out the same plots as the last time i visited them, can look wildly different to me because my little brain did a few cartwheels and back-flips while it went through the world in the interim. and it could have been because of anything! from a commercial i saw one time to some life altering trauma i experienced before and after reading/rereading a book series or watching/rewatching a show or even just listening to my favorite album. it’s just insane how the media i consume can interact in my little mind like shampoo and soap potions in the bath when i was a toddler.

[jamespotterismydaddy]

Worship at your Alter

modern!aemond x reader smut

A/N: ok so originally this one shot was going to be based off of a line from this by the lovely @sleyu but it ended up going in a different direction and i've actually ended up pretty happy with it!

word count: 1,302 words

TW: smut, cockwarming, tummy bulge, mayhaps a little biting, the whole thing is body worship ok guys

You watch your boyfriend as he studies, a violet eye fixated on the page in front of him as he reviews the philosophy of Nietzsche. You like watching him, admiring the focused look on his face when he’s entranced by a certain passage.

“If you spent as much time looking at your homework as you do looking at me then perhaps you wouldn’t be failing pre-calc.” He says, not even looking up at you as he speaks.

“I am not failing math!” You protest insistently. His eye becomes trained on you, a look of disbelief falling upon his features. He then goes back to ignoring you and concentrating on his work. You sigh and try to look at your trig equations but they make you frustrated beyond belief, so you go back to gazing at him. Your eyes flit from his lips to his hair. You like it when he ties his hair back so you can see his face, his heavenly face. You don’t think there is a man in the world so handsome. He must’ve been delicately crafted by the gods themselves, insurmountable effort put into creating a man such as himself.

“Aemond…” You whisper softly. Your hand reaches over to touch the cuff of his button up. His gaze shifts to the wall in front of him; it seems like he is having some sort of mental battle and you wish you could know what he is thinking. His eye falls back onto the page in front of him. He ignores how captivated you seem to be by him. “Aem…” You breathe out again in a hushed tone. You lean over to press a delicate kiss to his cheek. You receive no reaction. You kiss his neck gently.

“Stop that.” He says firmly.

“I need you.” You say. You know he won’t look at you because he won’t be able to control himself if he does.

“We have finals to prepare for.” You can tell Aemond’s resolve is beginning to fade by how hard he grips his highlighter.

You grab his hand and take the highlighter from his hold. You kiss his knuckles before guiding him up your skirt. His eye is still desperately fixed on the book but he doesn’t pull away. You lead him to show how wet you are. You can’t help how enthralled you are by him; you can’t help the fact that only looking at him is enough to arouse you. “You didn’t even have to touch me and look at the effect you have had.”

He doesn’t say a word in response and you think that he may pull his hand away. He breathes heavily and it’s dead silent for a moment.

He makes his decision.

He gives you no chance to react, going straight for the neck as he kisses you ravenously.

“You’re so beautiful.” He murmurs into your skin like he’s trying to make the words imprint onto you.

“Aem…” You whimper as you tug at his shirt.

“I know, darling. I know.” He helps you with the buttons as he litters little love marks all over the curve of your neck, decorating you with hints of red.

When you pull his shirt off, your eyes blow out with desire. The sight of his chest is a stronger aphrodisiac than any chemical can induce. You drop to your knees and make quick work of his belt. The look of longing in his eyes is enough to make you dissolve into a creature that is devoted to him and him alone. You are Psyche to his Eros. You would go to the Underworld for him. You would live and die for him.

“My love…” He breathes out as you take him in your mouth. His hand moves to your hair, delicately guiding your movements but never forcing you.

You could listen to the way he moans and whimpers for hours, the sound more mellifluous than any composition by Chopin could ever be. When he spills his nectar down your throat, you drink it eagerly, wanting to please him in every way.

“My perfect girl.” He praises you, wiping the nectar from the corner of your mouth.

When you stand up, he lifts you under your thighs so he can place you gently on the desk. He flips the script when he kneels in front of you. Now you’re the goddess he worships. Aphrodite and Adonis, the only mortal man who could capture her heart so fully. You sate all of his needs. The ambrosia between your thighs is a delicacy fit only for him. You grip his hair, tugging it at the roots.

“Aemond…” You moan his name, repeating it again and again like a mantra as you feel his tongue against you.

“So fucking good.” He murmurs against you, eating you like it’s his last meal.

His tongue against your pearl, against your folds, it was only a matter of time before you reached your peak, waves of pleasure overtaking you. He stands up again and pushes his mouth against yours. You can feel his longing on his lips.

“Couldn’t be patient, could you? My needly little baby.” He teases before pulling your shirt over your head.

“You say that like you wouldn’t be crying if we stopped now.” You tease back and he nips your collarbone gently where he was working on a new mark. “Ah!” You wince even though he didn’t bite hard enough to hurt you.

“Sorry.” He says, not really meaning it as his lips move to soothe the mark. His hands move behind you to swiftly unclip your bra. If you couldn’t tell he was aroused before, then you can definitely tell now by the way his eye darkens at the sight of your bare chest. He focuses there now, giving equal attention to the left and right as he continues to leave his little love marks, groaning as he does.

“I need you now.” You manage to get out. “All of you.”

He nods and gets closer, beginning to tease your pearl with the tip of himself. You open your mouth to speak, perhaps to tell him to hurry up but you don’t need to as he slips himself in. He gives you a few moments to adjust to him, his size being something your body will likely never fully get used to. He then begins to move slowly but he hits so deep inside you that the pace doesn’t matter. His lips meet yours again and then he leaves little fluttering kisses across your face. You giggle at his actions.

“I love you so much.” He says earnestly. “There’s not a girl in the world who compares to you.” Your heart beats faster as you hear the words.

“I love you forever.” You say back to him as he begins rocking in and out of you again. He reaches so deep that you can see a bulge on your tummy when you look down.

“I’m practically a part of you now.” He says with a smirk, proud that his cock can make a physical imprint on you. His hand goes down to push on the bulge as the other plays with your pearl. Both stimulations at once has you gasping for breath.

“I’m close.” You breathe out.

“I know, my love. I am too.” He leaves another kiss on your bitten lips as he continues to thrust in and out. When he knows you’re both ready, he sheathes himself fully inside of you and lets you milk him of everything he has left. He doesn’t part himself from you, not yet. He holds you close, lifting you up so he can take you to his bed to recover. He keeps you pressed tightly against him for the rest of the night, studying long forgotten.

taglist (comment to be added): @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy

[mykneeshurt]

Absolution

Image from wallpaper flare

Priest! Simon Riley x F! reader AU

Warnings - 18+, minors DNI, explicit smut, religious themes, if you're interested in going to heaven this ain't the fic for you, this is incredibly blasphemous so if your easily offended by religious themes being used DNI

100% inspired by @dotcie - you let all your love rot inside you

Thank you to @luminousbeings-crudematter for encouraging this and helping me with multiple ideas and beta reading it for me!

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The church was dark, the late evening sun shone through the stained-glass window above the altar. Hues of blue, red, green and purple descended into the empty church. Candles lined the walls, each mounted by a gold baroque style holder. The flames flickered as the warm summer air kissed them gently.    Stone arches adorned the walls, each one intricately designed with faces of angels and demons. You walked along the aisle touching each of the pews with your fingertips, the wood was stained a deep walnut colour. Each seat perfectly imperfect, littered with the scars of the congregation who graced their presence. 

Your eyes roamed along the paintings of different bible passages, all hung delicately along the sandstone walls. Each painting an abyss of pain and torment, each brush stroke a testament to the sheer emotion the artist must have felt. 
 
As you reached the altar you once again questioned why you were here. You sunk to your knees seeking sanctuary, the maroon carpet offering some comfort to your aching joints. The weight of what you’d done pressed heavily on your heart. So much so silent tears fell, staining the carpet beneath you. 
 
‘Are you ok?’ A voice from behind you asked, it was gentle and calm. Gasping you spun around, stood before was a shadow of a man. He was tall, his broad physique clearly visible through the shadows. ‘Oh! I’m so sorry I didn’t know anyone else was here’ you stammered, your breath catching in your chest. 
 
He stepped forward out of the shadows and into the light. As the sun rays illuminated him before you his divine beauty was slowly revealed. His jaw was sharp, his lips plump and soft with a small scar cutting through them. His hair was a sandy colour which was swept away from his face, bar a few strands which hung lazily on his forehead. He wore all black, his sleeves rolled up revealing a tattoo on his forearm. 
 
You stayed kneeling, feeling unable to move, unable speak. He stood before you extending his hand to cup your chin, his touch was merciful, soft, all consuming. Slowly he caressed your cheek, his thumb wiping away the solitary tear that stained your skin. His gaze pierced through you, eyes dark and possessive, a foreboding presence lurking in the void. 
 
‘Tell me what’s bothering you?’ He asked, voice calm but thicker than molasses. You tried to find the words, tried to articulate the feelings deep within you, but the words wouldn’t come. ‘Use your words’ he cooed, still cupping your jaw. All moisture suddenly evaporated from your mouth as you opened your lips to speak. ‘I … I did something bad’ you stammered. 
 
‘Is it forgiveness you seek?’ 
‘Yes Father’ your voice all but a whisper, yet still echoing in the empty church. He hummed to himself, dropping his gaze to your lips. ‘Stay’ he ordered as he removed his hand, a silent whimper falling from your lips as your cheek cooled from his touch. 
 
He walked to the alter and despite his muscular stature he moved almost silently. Like a ghost. As he turned back to you, he held the Ciborium in his hands, the emerald colour contrasting perfectly against his porcelain skin. Towering over you he pulled the host from the cup ‘I have a passage I’d like you to read, but first, take the body of Christ.’ 
 
Holding out your hand you waited for him to place it in your hands, except he didn’t. ‘Open’ he said forcefully. Lowering your hand, you opened your mouth sticking out your tongue. A small smirk tugged at your lips as he placed the thin wafer onto it. The host slowly dissolved on the heat of your tongue, as did any remaining sanity. He pulled your lower lip with his thumb ‘good.’ 
 
He motioned for you to follow him to the lectern, a black bible with gold rimmed pages sat unassumingly on the shelf. Placing you in front of him he bent you over slightly, your body completely pliable in his hands. He gently skimmed the pages with his fingers, the tattoo now fully visible. Veins kissed the surface of his skin as the defined muscles danced with every movement. 

Finally he stopped on the page he was looking for: Proverbs 28:13. His face was dangerously close to yours, so much so you could see the texture of his skin. A small amount of stubble littered his skin as his breath fanned over your neck. Lowering his lips to your ear he whispered ‘read, and no matter what don’t stop.’ His words vibrated down your spine straight to your aching pussy, taking a deep breath you began to read

‘Whoever conceals their sins …' his hand slipped to your lower back, but his eyes were fixed firmly on the text in front of you.

Gulping you tried to continue ‘... does not prosper …' his fingers grazed the back of your thighs, causing you to buck your hips slightly.

‘... but the one who confesses …' a whine exuded from the back of your throat, guttural and desperate.  ‘Shhh, keep going’ he whispered in your ear. Swallowing hard you tried again.  

‘… and renounces them …’ his fingers slipped past the hem of your panties, the sudden contact made you jump, you bit your lip trying to stifle a moan. ‘Good girl, keep going.’   ‘ … finds mercy.’ As the last word slipped past your lips, he sunk his finger into your wet cunt causing you to lurch forward onto the lectern, gripping the sides for balance. ‘Read it again’ he ordered. Taking a deep breath, you did as you were told, sounding out each word, each syllable laced with desire and pleasure. He slowly added another finger, stretching your pussy with his girth. Your whine rang out in the desolate church, ricocheting off the sandstone walls as he pumped his fingers. He pressed his thumb against your clit, once wet with your tears it was now wet with your arousal.  

Soon enough you were tripping over your words, a stuttering mess under his touch. With his free hand he wrapped it around your throat pulling you close to him, his fingers still orchestrating a flurry of moans from you. You were completely lost in him, your jaw slack as whimpers and gasps seeped from your very soul. You were so lost in fact you didn’t even realise he’d manoeuvred you towards the altar, the cool granite kissed your skin as he pressed you against it.  

Removing his fingers, he placed them on his tongue savouring your arousal, his gaze once again found yours ‘fuckin sinful’ he growled. Using his muscular arms, he trapped you against the altar the warmth of his skin seeping into yours like a virus. Reaching behind you he grabbed the gold chalice and took a sip of the wine, never once breaking eye contact with you. Gripping your chin, he tilted it, so you were looking directly up at him, slowly he placed his lips against yours allowing the wine to trickle into your mouth. A single drop trickled down your neck, his tongue was soon pressed against your skin lapping it up.  

You pulled him by his shirt collar into another kiss, it was velocious and messy. He gripped at your thighs pulling you up onto the altar, tilting you backwards the wine fell causing the once pristine white cotton to turn red with your sins. He nipped at your collar bone as he raked his nails along your skin, moaning into his mouth it was too much but not enough all the same time. He kissed along your torso and onto your abdomen, his lips teased the sliver of skin which poked out between your top and skirt. Goosebumps trickled along your skin as he bit the sensitive skin.  

Pulling at his hair you silently begged him to continue, silently pleading with him to taste you. Keeping his eyes on yours he lifted your leg onto his shoulder, he ripped your panties at the seam and placed his lips onto your weeping cunt. The sudden intrusion caused you to arch your back and moan into oblivion. His eyes pierced yours as he moved his tongue in languid motions, each swipe pulling another whimper from your chest. You gripped his hair digging your nails into his scalp, God rays cascaded around you encapsulating you both in this moment of pure sin. As the priest looked up you could have sworn it was Lucifer himself staring right back at you.  

‘Fuck … don’t stop’ you whined, finally finding words to use, finally finding your voice. Kissing his way back up your body he hovered over you for a moment, his stare intense and dominating. ‘Simon’ he muttered. You hummed, not quite catching what he said. ‘My name … Simon’ he repeated, edging closer to your lips once more. Pulling your lips open he allowed a dribble of saliva to drop into your mouth, instinctively you swallowed allowing the ribbon of spilt to glide down your throat.  

‘Please fuck me Simon’ you said as you placed your lips on his once more. Pulling away he unbuckled his trousers allowing his cock to spring free. Still staring at you intently he began to pump his hard cock ‘allow me this and I shall absolve you of all your sins.’ You could hear how breathless he was behind his stoic demeanour, a man on the edge of losing control.  

‘Yes Father, please.’  

Slowly he pushed into you, once again stretching your cunt, the sting was delicious. You both gasped as he filled you to the brim, bottoming out in one swift motion. He placed his forearms next to your head as strands of hair fell forward framing his face perfectly. The sun had moved slightly causing the coloured glass to reflect onto your bodies as you became one. He kissed you again, except this time you bit his lip causing it to bleed, ‘hmm, the blood of Christ’ you said smirking. Lowering his head to your neck he smiled into your skin ‘Amen.’  

He began to move his hips back and forth, caressing the sweet spot within you. The sound of skin on skin reverberated in the church, filling the once silent, once holy place with the sin of lust. Placing his hand around your throat he hissed through his teeth ‘beg me for forgiveness, for I will be your absolution.’ Tears stung the corners of your eyes as he fucked you on the altar, each thrust took you to a new level of pleasure. You ran your nails along his shirt, desperately trying to imagine what his skin felt like.  ‘Please, forgive me’ you whined as you rolled your hips into him ‘please father … please.’  

Upping his pace, he held onto your hips as he dug his fingertips into your flesh. Small grunts and breathless whimpers filled the space between you as he allowed himself to give into his primal desires. Rolling his hips, he dragged his cock against your cunt making you feel every movement, every thrust, every inch of him. Pulling your hand off his back he placed it on your clit ‘show me’ he murmured ‘show me how you like it.’ Feeling yourself instantly tighten you began to play with your clit, you watched as he dropped his eyes to watch the show you were putting on for him, his mouth opening slightly before biting his lip.   

Your breath began to catch in your throat as you felt yourself on the brink of orgasm, as your eyes rolled you caught sight of Mary looking down on you, watching you getting fucked within an inch of your life on the once pure altar. Wrapping your legs around him you pulled him closer, not wanting to let him go.  ‘Faster’ you begged, ‘harder Father please.’ He let out a slight chuckle of disbelief, once again placing his hand around your throat ‘you’re insatiable.’ Biting your lip you giggled, but that giggle was soon replaced with a broken guttural moan as he slammed his hips into yours. This was enough to push you into the blinding light of your orgasm, your back arched off the wine-stained cloth as you came around his cock. Shockwaves of pleasure shot through every fiber of your body as rode out your high.  

As the white noise from your orgasm finally dissipated your eyes met with his, his gaze was piercing, all knowing and consuming. His pace became sloppy, knowing he was close you sat up and pushed him away. Turning him round so his back was now against the altar you dropped to your knees, staring up at him like you did mere moments ago. You placed his cock on your tongue as the sweet bitterness of your combined arousal seeped over your tongue, ready to receive him. He looked down on you blocking out the sun, the light giving the illusion of a halo around him, but you knew when you were looking the devil in the face.  

Slowly you took his cock to the back of your throat, the change in sensation causing him to throw his head back and hiss. He cradled the back of your head as you bobbed back and forth, humming a hymn softly to yourself, praising the man before you. The humming caused vibrations to travel down his thick cock adding a whole new layer of pleasure to this already wicked act. He became breathless as you worked his cock in your mouth, you could feel the change in him as you dragged your tongue along his shaft. ‘Yes’, he whispered softly, repeating it like a prayer. Looking up at him you pleased with him to let go, to finish what he’d started.  

And that he did. You kept looking up at him as he came in your mouth, doe like eyes eager to please the man in front of you. His mouth was parted slightly as ragged breaths fell from his lips; he caressed your jaw as you swallowed. His touch just as soft and possessive as before.  

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LMAO see you in hell x

@cowyolks @strlingsav @ave661 @glitterypirateduck @soapyghost        

[bonefall]

Hey Bones! Sorry if this is a bit random to ask you, but-

Is it ok if you elaborate and/or explain how Millie is ableist towards Briarlight please?

I haven’t really heard much people within the fandom talk about Millie’s treatment of Briarlight and her disability as negative and/or bad compared to Millie not really paying attention to Blossomfall within the books.

So I’m interested what you know and/or have to say about it.

OH boy, I feel like this one is REALLY easy to see if you just pop the book open. It will make your skin crawl once you see these quotes. Millie is an AWFUL mother and SHOCKING in how nasty she is to her disabled child.

I run in some pretty good circles and curate my Tumblr experience well, so I see plenty of people just mentioning it as a fucked up thing the series did casually, but I'll make a compilation of the worst of it.

(CW for some serious ableism, Millie is terrible.)

She's injured in Chapter 11 of OotS Book 2: Fading Echoes, and Millie is obsessive over her until Chapter 9 of OotS Book 3: Night Whispers. She's interfering with Jayfeather's treatments, constantly in the den, shouting at him when he tries to be honest about Briarlight's condition.

But that would be understandable. She's concerned and the prognosis isn't great. Her very young, athletic daughter (basically 17-ish) has suddenly received a life-altering injury that will drastically affect her life. Until Night Whispers Chapter 9, she's just worrying about her daughter.

And then we get this.

(Please note this is happening in front of the entire Clan. The entire social group is watching this.)

Though Briarlight expressed frustration with her exercises and how painful and difficult recovery was in Fading Echoes, that is not the case in Night Whispers. At this point, it's difficult but Briarlight is recovering well. MILLIE decides that her daughter being alive with a disability is suffering.

Note how in this exchange, Jayfeather is being forced to comfort Briarlight's MOTHER. Not BRIARLIGHT herself, the one with the injury who is looking at a massive upheaval to her life. Though superficially it seems like this is coming from a place of love, Millie is making Briarlight's recovery about herself by doing this, and this exchange is ableist.

Millie: "I want her to do all of these able-bodied things."

Jay: "That will not happen, but life has inherent value."

Millie: "No it doesn't, if you cannot do those able-bodied things, you are suffering."

But it gets worse because it's not even that she's only expressing this in private. Her daughter is within earshot. The newly disabled person is listening to their own fucking mother call her medical treatment "dragging out her suffering."

BURN this passage into your mind. Having heard her OWN FUCKING MOTHER cry to a crowd of cats that maybe it would be better if she was DEAD, watching several cats drop everything to comfort HER for having a disabled daughter, Briarlight has to drag herself out and act like a cute baby to get her to stop making a public spectacle.

It's hard to describe to someone who hasn't been in the situation before, but if your parent is making a scene like that, it'll end up falling onto you to "appeal" to their sense of... parental valor, is the best way I can put it. "See? Aren't I getting better? I promise I'll work hard. I'm not hurt it's okay! Everything is fine!" You give them a chance to affirm how good of a parent they are, for helping you, or 'putting up' with you. You have to assure them that your existence isn't so bad.

In essence, it falls onto the child to comfort their parent.

This is specifically a form of a toxic family dynamic called emotional parentification, on top of it being obviously ableist. She is being shoved into a position where she needs to sacrifice her OWN need for support and comfort to coddle her parent, to STOP her from making a scene, while that parent screams that her disabled life is worth less than her siblings' abled ones to a crowd of cats.

Naturally, this affects Briarlight's sense of self-worth. She stops eating.

Thankfully, Jayfeather is here to have an exchange about how her life has value. For all my issues with Jayf in later arcs, he has some of his best moments here in OotS.

In later books, Briarlight's struggles with self-worth continue. It's all shit that Millie implied about her being less useful because she is unable to do what her siblings can.

It's every other cat who has to come in and assure Briarlight that she isn't worthless. Not Millie. Millie comes on screen and she's either making Briarlight feel like garbage or barking at Jayfeather for not doctoring hard enough.

She desperately craves independence. This above scene is happening because she wanted to come out into the woods for the first time in forever, and she's being suffocated and bossed around in the camp constantly. It was up to her brother, Bumblestripe, to do anything to help her.

Not her dad. Not her mom. Bumblestripe. (Rare Bumblestripe W)

I also want to take a brief moment to point out a detail that the fandom often forgets, about Blossomfall. She actually knows full well that her feelings are unreasonable here, and she believes that the fact she isn't feeling "what she is supposed to" is proof that she is a bad person who deserves hell.

Millie's actions are crushing ALL of her children under its weight. Briarlight is obviously getting the worst of it, but these are YOUNG adults, just out of apprenticeship, and Blossomfall is being told that her sister is in a constant state of "suffering." This means she's not allowed to be frustrated about how Millie is behaving, because hating THAT means you hate your sister, and that makes her an awful person.

What Blossomfall is describing here is the feelings associated with being a glass child.

But no it's not JUST that she's being neglectful to Blossomfall, who yes, is a young adult and can take responsibility for her own actions. Millie is being nasty to Bloss too, directly comparing her to Briarlight and unironically doing the "You should be GRATEFUL you can walk when BRIARLIGHT WOULD DO ANYTHING TO LEGS AROUND."

Again. I'll state the very obvious from the passage.

"Hey Millie, your other daughter looks kinda upset right now!" = "PERFECT TIME TO SNAP AT HER"

Blossomfall = Wasted her morning when she should be Useful

Useful = Can hunt

"YOUR SISTER wouldn't act like this"

Proper warrior = spends every waking minute in service of the clan

Once again, Millie does this in public, with several people watching her rip into her child. She even gets ANGRY at Brackenfur gently trying to soften the blow. It's freakjob shit to hear, "h-hey, at least they're safe!" and SNARL back "IS IT?"

Millie continues to hover over Briarlight well into Bramblestar's Storm. The closure for these intense, insulting comments, public embarrassments, snapping at and neglecting one child while telling the other one that her life was "suffering" because she can't walk is.....

millie watches her do some pull-ups and is so impressed by them she isn't bigoted anymore :o)

"my daughter's membership at British Planet Fitness paid off. Look at how big her biceps are now. I guess I was wrong to tell her that her life is inherently suffering because she can't hunt, just look at her gooooo"

wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

So, basically, Millie's a terrible parent. She never gets properly called out for this manipulative, toxic behavior. She says that her own daughter might have been better off dead in public. She makes Briarlight feel like half of a cat because she can't do all the things her siblings do, while her siblings are told that they should be grateful they're not disabled like Briarlight.

And just to end off, because it's relevant, the BRAND NEW writing team then killed off Briarlight in an incredibly stupid, insulting way. She catches fucking Greencough in AVoS so that they can have a very sad funeral for a couple of chapters, before moving on to Jayfeather being a shithead to Alderheart for being friends with Velvet.

Then they wrote a line in Squirrelflight's Hope where Squilf's mother begs her to stay dead in heaven, because if she goes back to life, she might be disabled like Briarlight and her mate Bramblestar won't want her anymore. The line was so bad the authors promised that it wouldn't be there in reprints; the reprint still has not come.

normal series.

[amurih]

Fuck it ima put it out anyway.

COTL AU where instead of staying in the cult Narinder leaves and builds his own little plot of land that becomes a rare occurrence you find while crusading through the different biomes post game.

Like it starts off when the lamb like spares Narinder and he’s like sent to the cult. And is in such a state of shock and bewilderment of what just happened that he doesn’t really know that the lamb is setting up their wedding until he’s at the alter. And he just SNAPS. To trade one prison for another? And to be stuck with the same being that not only took your crown, but your title as the god of death as your jailer? No thank you. Proceeds to walk out while the service is still going.

(I’m not the kind of person to think that he would be murdering or plotting to kill the lamb at every turn or possibly. No I would think that Narinder is smart enough to realize that he cannot fight the lamb in the condition that he is reduced to.)

Anyway, I want Narinder to experience life post-godhood by himself outside the cult. Maybe progressing over time you see how his plot of land develops into a pretty nice home for himself complete with a garden and an actual building/house. Not a hut, but an actual house.

All the while the lamb is going through it. It’s normal game play like one would post Narinder fight. Lore, upgrades, reviving the bishops, mystic seller, etc. All the while experiencing the highs and lows of ascension. I think the lamb would ask the other bishops once they get indoctrinated of how they went through their ascensions went. Only they would tell them that each went through theirs differently, so in the end it wasn’t really helpful.

So going through a process that you have no idea how to get through and the only person who does has fuck off into the land and hates your guts. Really fucking sucks man. So they try to “catch” Narinder while out crusading. Only they don’t find him physically, they find his place of residence while he is away.

I thought of a way to incorporate the quests that Narinder gives you when he is usually established in the cult. Could still be used: like there’s a book left on a table where you could peak in and see what’s going on with the cat that is currently away from his house.

“ I should head to Darkwoods and see if I can find more materials to build that fence and make more paper. Moving materials from one abandon home stead to this place has been challenging enough. My arms hurt after years of being bound to one position for so long...I wonder if camellias still bloom there now that Leshy is gone? If not I’ll have to develop a new alternative for this persistent strain and sharp pains I keep having. Got to get these walls up before it starts raining.”

“Bah! There’s not enough food at the last abandoned settlement let alone seeds. It’ll take long of a walk all the way to smuggler’s cove just to see if that sea louse got any thing. And it hasn’t been that long since the depletion of fish at pilgrim’s passage. I would have just stuck to what vegetables and berries I’ve got growing, but some animal or heratic keeps getting into my garden and stealing my food!when I find the person or thing that is stealing from me I’m going to make them into my fertilizer. In the meantime I should look into Anura and see if those foul mushrooms are still there. If I remember they are just as foul as Hecket when she would screamed about being hungry during dinner…Those should hold me over until I get this unwanted pest under control.”

“The wind and rain coming in through the holes on the side of the house that I use to see if any heretics come to kill me, has gotten too much. I’m tired of having to clean up the puddles of water that enters the home. And the curtains don’t do much in terms of trying to block both of these elements.That stupid squid Kallamar doesn’t need his crystals now that he’s gone. It didn’t help him when trying to hide from me. I’ll go to Anchordeep tomorrow and get some to make crystal windows. They sure would make it more beautiful than their temple…”

“Finally the loom is ready. It’s been a such a long time since I had decent robes. It’s easy to find cotton, but what I really want is a nice, soft, silk robe. One that doesn’t rub against these scars preferably. I miss the old one Shamura they made with their silk. But, that one got destroyed in the fight with that damn vessel. Maybe there is some in Silk Cradle. ”

(I’ll come back to this when I flesh it out more via work time daydreams)

[five-rivers]

Another continuation of my poll fic; the previous part is here.

.

“Hello?” called Danny.  “Is anyone there?  Hello?”

There was no answer except a further flicker of light, more distant.  

Danny touched his tongue to his lips briefly, then marked his place in the intake book using one of the blank cards.  He slid out of the chair and off his stack of books to stand.  The cold wood and iron of the floor made him rethink that and he floated up.  It was better that way, anyway, in terms of vantage point.

He approached the gap between shelves.  “Hello?”  

Looking out into the passageway beyond, the light seemed to wrap around and layer over itself with different levels of brightness.  Danny looked back at his own trail of brilliance, saw where it faded, saw where it was fresh and new.  This other trail, it looked like someone had walked this way multiple times.  Going in circles, maybe?

He floated upward, trying for a better vantage point and jostled a set of what looked like windchimes, long triangular metal rods covered in tiny symbols gathered together under domes.  They jingled and jangled musically in the muffling silence of the library.  He stilled them with one hand.

There was movement out of the corner of his eye and turned.  There, just before the passageway bent around a particularly precarious collection of papers, floated a ghost.  

It was a very strange ghost.  It glowed like a small sun, and if Danny’s eyes hadn’t been changed by his own alteration, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to look at it.  It had long, long ears, shaped mostly like a bat’s but furred like a cat’s.  Their eyes, too, were catlike, slitted.  It had wings, and at their ends they were thin and flat, like a moth’s or butterfly’s, but they were fluffy with fur and feathers near their bases, and there was something birdlike about their structure there as well.  Its body was relatively small, and looked soft, although it wasn’t nearly as small as Danny currently was.  Danny couldn’t tell if the ghost was male or female or something else entirely.

But perhaps the strangest thing of all was the pervasive sense of silence it carried with it.  

In any case, Danny saw no golden thread, and some of the other features - like the light - seemed to match with the aids offered to guests.  Only, like.  A lot of them.  All at once.  Meaning they must’ve gotten lost a whole bunch of times, even if Danny couldn’t see any visitor badges on them.

“Um, hi,” said Danny.  “I noticed, um.  Are you lost?  The attendant should be coming before too long.”

The faintest of breezes tickled the back of his neck and he looked behind him, to the other end of the passage.  There was another almost identical ghost hovering there.  

“Um.”  Danny was, perhaps, getting just a little nervous about the silent staring.  

More light.  Yet another similar ghost floated at the opposite entry to the card catalog space.  And–

Danny moved backwards, into more open space as the area brightened further and more luminous, winged ghosts floated into view or poked heads up over shelves and other barriers.  

“Danny,” said Mom.  

“Not now,” said Danny.  He blinked.  

Next thing he knew, fingers were brushing his throat.  He flinched backwards and away.  Fast.  Either naturally so, or via alteration.  Or, if they weren’t visitors, maybe because of a home-field advantage or disadvantage on Danny’s part.  Some places did that, and he hadn’t been here long enough to determine if this was one of them.  

“I don’t want to fight,” he said.  Or tried to say.  He went through the motions, but his voice made no sound.  He made no sound, period, not even the sound of his tongue tapping against the roof of his mouth.  

He’d been silenced.  Not good.  That meant that not only could he not negotiate, he couldn’t call for help.  

He was left with limited options, and limited time to choose between them.  Luckily, those same battle-born reflexes and reactions that were inconvenient elsewhere served him well now and gave him the chance to choose.  

He could fight.  The librarians would be unhappy.  It was against the rules that the receptionist had given to him, and likely to damage the books and card catalog, so he’d probably be kicked out.  But, if he fought, he was sure he’d win, even with these numbers, and that would be safer than his other options.  He couldn’t imagine that this many people ganging up on someone who looked like they were five meant well.  

He could flee.  He would almost certainly get lost, but that was a lesser crime than damaging the card catalog.  Whether or not he’d get caught… well, he had about the same amount of experience running as fighting, but he usually wasn’t running from a group this large in unfamiliar territory and facing unfamiliar powers.  These silent ghosts could have further unpleasant abilities.  

He could freeze.  Literally.  He could build a shell of ice and ghost shields up around himself and hunker down until he either thought of a better plan or the attendant came back.  That might put the attendant in danger, but Danny didn’t know if it would be more danger than if he just ran away.  Anything other than fighting and winning decisively meant that these people would still be around.  But if they were meant to be here… if the attendant could negotiate with them or authorize a fight…

Too much speculation.  He had the space of a breath in which to act.  Less. 

[foldingfittedsheets]

howdy! i love the stories about your dnd shenanigans and I was wondering if any new fun hijinks had occurred? or anything that happened in the past that just didn't get told!

Okay I did consider writing this one and since you askkkk.

My current party is composed of a bunnyfolk barbarian: Tor’rac, a circle of swarm eladrin druid: Evo, my beloveds half-elf fighter/cleric Kahriq, and my tiefling (but really a dragon) bard, Orion.

So my party and I were breaking into a prison to free some fae that were being held captive. Step one was Orion issuing an invitation to a higher up in charge of the prison. They suggested he might enjoy a private dance. Since they’re known as a performer and courtesan he was very excited.

He took us up on the suggestion and met us at a rented venue with bodyguards. Orion cast Seeming over the party to disguise everyone as dancers and made his guards wait outside. Then they sexily tied him to a chair while the party waved ribbons around and danced. Once he was tied up Orion cast Silence and the party started beating the shit out of him while his guards couldn’t hear.

Once he was unconscious Kahriq used Teleportation Circle to get us out of there. We interrogated him then called in a favor to banish him to the faewilds when he insisted that fae weren’t people. Evo was pretty steamed up about it, being of fae origin.

So we get to the prison. Orion used Alter Self to impersonate him, and had the party looking like his guards. We had the right passcodes and got in. We broke out the fae prisoners using combinations of Knock and Silence.

Then we ran into a bunch of cultists performing blood magic on a fae. We ended up killing them all and freeing the last fae. Evo dug a tunnel out and Kahriq closed the passage with Stone Shape.

We were out. We were home free with all the fae. But then Orion was like, “Damn. I learned some new magic and I could have totally animated those dead bodies to make life harder for this evil company.”

Everyone loved this plan so much that we broke back into the prison, animated all four corpses to attack the prison guards, then left again.

So in our wake we left four doors with magic locks untampered (since Knock only disables the alarm for ten minutes), one door had the magic blasted off with Dispel Magic, four reanimated corpses, and no sign of the guy I was pretending to be who never left.

But Evo was still pretty pissed at that guy we’d kidnapped and banished. So they told the fae we just rescued, “Hey, we saved your lives and you owe us a blood debt, find this shithead in the faewild and make sure he never sleeps again.”

[dionysus-complex]

you mentioned you specialize in roman violence. can you rec any good works on the subject, especially during the late antique period? how much (or little) time/writing did latin authors spend on the question of the necessity/morality/glory of violence, especially when bound up with empire and borders? did rhetoric around domestic violence evolve?

It's obviously a massive topic, so it's difficult to know where to begin! For looking at violence in Late Antiquity, I highly recommend the work of Maijastina Kahlos as a starting point - most of her scholarship deals with tensions between religious communities in the Roman Empire in Late Antiquity, and I've found it extremely clear and illuminating. For Late Antique slavery, I'd look at Jennifer Trimble's work, especially "The Zoninus Collar and the Archaeology of Roman Slavery" (2016, JSTOR link here). On the intersections of violence and the legal system, I'd recommend Sarah Bond's 2014 article "Altering Infamy: Status, Violence, and Civic Exclusion in Late Antiquity" (JSTOR link here) as well as Julia Hillner's 2015 book Prison, Punishment and Penance in Late Antiquity. Amy Richlin is essential reading on Roman violence in general, and I'd highly highly recommend her piece "Cicero's Head" in Constructions of the Classical Body (ed. James Porter, 1999) if you have access to an academic library and can get a hold of it; it's explicitly framed as a Jewish, post-Holocaust reflection on the violence of the Roman proscriptions and civil wars and has been profoundly influential on my own thinking.

In general, Imperial-era Latin authors spend a lot of time thinking about the necessity/morality/glory of violence, to the point that I'd say violence is the key theme in Imperial Latin literature. It's often bound up with Stoic philosophy (in the 1st-2nd c. CE; Seneca's De Ira is a key text - you might take a look at sections 3.18-19 on torture under Caligula), and given the bias of our sources which skew toward the elite/senatorial-class perspective, it can be harder to track down texts that explicitly make the link between violence and Roman imperium. One famous example is the speech of Calgacus in Tacitus' Agricola 29-32 (link to a translation here), which purports to be the speech of a Celtic general in Britain rousing his troops to battle against the Romans in the 80s CE. Given that speeches in Roman historiography are generally regarded as being compositions by the historian, it's important to ask why exactly Tacitus of all people gives a prominent place to a scathing critique of Roman imperium - there are lots of ideas on this and few definitive answers, but it's a startling passage to say the least.

Imperial Latin epic poetry (e.g. Lucan's Bellum Civile; Statius' Thebaid) is well known for being graphically violent in the extreme (as in brutal torture, dismemberment, and one infamous instance of brain-eating in Thebaid 8), and there's a lot of work on how and why violence becomes highly aestheticized for Imperial Latin poets. There's also the genre of Roman declamation (difficult to explain, but essentially something like mock trial cases that were used for rhetorical education and showmanship), which frequently explores extremely violent scenarios involving torture, kin-killing, etc. Most scholars these days tend to read declamation as a space where (elite, male) Romans worked out and interrogated various cultural anxieties and taboos. Because of this, you get some of the strongest condemnations of violence found anywhere in Latin literature in the declamatory corpus, but it's difficult to extrapolate from that because again it's something like mock trial and rhetorical showmanship that does not necessarily map on to real-life Roman attitudes.

I've barely scratched the surface and there's a lot more I could say but I'll cut myself off here - I might be able to offer more specific recs if you're interested in e.g. violence as spectacle, aesthetics and artistic representations of violence, etc.

[emil162]

Cure Buster is one of the main Cures in Yūrei Attack!👻 Pretty Cure. She is an alter ego of Meguri Sanzu, a first year middle school student in the Ouija Boarding School in Gōsutotaun.

Cure Buster is a ghost saving Cure of support and guidance and represents green coloured mantra.

Her catchphrases are "I’m here to lift your spirits! Cure Buster!" 💚👻 and "I guess, it's time for my graveyard shift!" 🌃🕛

Her mission is to help any lost and confused ghost seeking passage to the spirit realm. However, there are some supernatural negative forces craving to take over the world of the living. They pressure the stray souls to eat people's essence which turns them into Mõittekis.

Mõittekis are a kind of spirits that can cause serious problems and come in many different shapes and supernatural abilities.

Those purified by the Cures grant them their gratitude and access to their supernatural powers. The Cures keep them at all times in the form of glass marbles in a keychain on their chests.

Cure Buster's individual attack - Night Daze

When performing this attack Cure Buster starts with the words "Awake from slumber! Night Daze!" and sends a dark shock wave at her enemy. After purifying the soul she whispers "You are forever in our hearts".

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

Meguri - part of a "Haisonmeguri" game's name which is a J-horror walking simulator game based on a terrifying experience involving an abandoned village. 

Sanzu - name of the mythical river of three crossings, which is the boundary between the worlds of the living and the dead. (Jap. Buddhism)

Mõ itteki - freely translated from Japanese "just one more drop" (cause the people's essence is liquefied)

[thewulf]

Together || Aragorn

Summary: Request - So I'd also thought of something with Aragorn where the reader is also an ranger and the group meets her someday on their journey to Mordor as she takes him down unexpectedly as she thinks they're enemies, so she lands on top of him with a sword on his neck and in that moment he falls for her immediately... Read Rest Here

A/N: Okay had a blast writing this one. Happy birthday anon, hope you enjoy it :)

Pairing: Aragorn x Reader

Word Count: 4.1k +

TW: Violence, orc violence, poison, death, blood, crying, angst, lotr warnings

Under the canopy of ancient oaks, the dense forest of Eriador hums with the life of creatures both small and menacing. Among them you move silently, cloaked in the hues of earth and leaf. As a ranger of great skill your keen eyes scan the underbrush for signs of your quarry. For days you have been on the trail of a band of orcs. Their clumsy passage through the woods an affront to the quiet sanctity of nature. With every soft step your hand rests near the hilt of your sword. Your long-time trusted companion in the ever-lonely wilds.

As the sun begins its descent, casting long shadows through the trees, your pursuit leads you to a clearing where the tracks are fresher. Much more hurried. Crouched behind a bush your eyes narrow upon the sight of figures crossing the distance. It was a mixed company, not of orcs, but of men, an elf, a dwarf, and others you cannot readily identify from your hidden vantage.

Driven by a mix of caution and curiosity you watch them, your mind racing with possibilities. Could these travelers be allied with your foes? Perhaps orchestrating the movements of the orcs for darker purposes? The presence of such diverse races together is unusual, but in these troubled times alliances are formed in desperation.

Deciding that the risk of letting potential enemies pass is too great you prepare an ambush. As the group nears you leap from your cover, swift as a shadow at dusk. Your target was the tall, commanding man at the forefront. Before he could react you tackled him to the ground with your sword at his throat. The shock in his eyes mirrors your own fierce determination. You’d managed to take the entire group by surprise.

"Who are you and why do you travel with such company through these woods?" you demand. Your voice a low whisper against the rustling leaves.

Before the man can reply, a powerful voice booms from behind you, "Peace, Y/N! Lower your weapon. These are friends, not foes!" Your eyes crinkle in confusion with your name that you kept so well hidden spoken so freely.

You turn slightly with your blade still pressed to the man’s throat to see an elderly man with a staff. He was dressed in a long grey cloak. His eyes twinkle with a mix of amusement and stern rebuke. He extends a hand in peace, "Forgive the suddenness of our meeting. I am Gandalf, Gandalf the Grey. You have nothing to fear from us my dear child."

"How do you know my name?" you snap as the tension raised in your voice. Few knew of your existence as you preferred the solitude of the forest to the company of towns and taverns.

"It is my business to know much that goes on in this world. Especially when it concerns those who could alter its course," Gandalf answers with a calm that seems to weave peace through the air itself leaving you rather confused by his words. Wizards, you could never understand them with their riddles.

With a frown you turn back to disheveled man sneering at him, “Tell your elf to lower his bow and then we can talk.” You pressed the blade into his neck further careful not to draw blood but to show you meant business at the same time.

The man nodded, “Legolas, please.”

The elf in the group with his bow still pointed in your direction now lowers it and steps forward. “We mean no harm to you or your lands. We seek only passage and perhaps some aid. This quest carries great weight." The elf called Legolas spoke right to you.

His words seemed sincere. They carry a sense of shared purpose. While you're still on edge the immediate threat of the group seems to wane. You slowly stand, sheathing your sword with reluctance. The man you had pinned—Aragorn, as Gandalf introduced him—rises, brushing off his cloak, his gaze never leaving yours. A mix of embarrassment and admiration passes between you.

Gandalf steps forward trying to smooth over the tension. "Aragorn leads us on a quest of great importance," he explains. "And from what I see your skills could aid us greatly. What say you, Y/N? Will you join the Fellowship and lend us your strength?"

You hesitate as your duty to your own lands weighing heavily on you. "I cannot abandon my watch. The darkness grows and my lands need protecting."

Aragorn steps forward. His expression earnest. "I understand your duty for I too am sworn to protect the lands of men in the north. But this quest... if we succeed, all lands will be safer, including yours. We need your strength and skill. I ask you not for my sake but for all our sakes."

Looking from Aragorn to Gandalf and Legolas, you're torn. The sincerity in Aragorn's eyes is compelling and there's a resolve there that speaks of his immediate respect and admiration for you. After a long pause, you nod slowly. "For the greater good, then. I will join you. But we must ensure my lands are safeguarded in my absence." It was no easy choice but even you knew you could hardly handle the orcs now… if it got worse there would be no land for you to protect.

"Agreed," Aragorn replies with a smile, a small, knowing curve of his lips. "Together we will protect all our homes. Walk with me and I will explain this further.” And so, you did.

As you walked alongside Aragorn away from the ears of the others except maybe Legolas, his voice takes on a solemn tone. He speaks of a great burden and a journey that began long ago in the quiet shire of the Hobbits.

“A darkness grows in the East under the shadow of Mordor, where the Dark Lord Sauron forges his malice into a single form,” Aragorn begins. “A ring, one of power and despair, lost for ages has resurfaced. It was found by the most unlikely of creatures—a Hobbit named Bilbo Baggins.”

He tells you how the wizard Gandalf uncovered the truth of this simple golden band. It is the One Ring, through which Sauron can conquer all of middle earth. But it is also his one point of vulnerability.

“The Ring must be destroyed,” Aragorn continues, “and that can only be done in the fires of Mount Doom where it was forged.” His gaze meets yours, impressing upon you the gravity of their task. “A Fellowship has been formed. A company sworn to protect Frodo on this perilous path. For without the Ring’s destruction… darkness will consume our lands, leaving no corner of the world untouched by its ruin.”

He pauses allowing the weight of his words to sink in. “This is our quest to see the end of the Ring and the fall of Sauron. And now you are part of this story, part of our hope. For alone we cannot stand, but together we might prevail.”

The immensity of Aragorn's tale seems to echo through the silence around you. As the responsibility and peril of what lies ahead sinks into your heart. "This is... more than I expected," you confess. Your voice betraying a mix of awe and trepidation. Shadows have been a common adversary in your solitary ranger life but the thought of a single ring holding the fate of all life in middle earth is overwhelming in the worst way.

Aragorn watches you with eyes that have seen the weight of the world but still hold a glimmer of hope. "It is a lot to take in," he acknowledges with his voice a steady presence amidst your inner turmoil. "But remember every meaningful journey begins with a single step. We do not choose the times we live in only how we meet them."

His words meant to comfort kindle a spark of resolve within you. "Then we walk this path together," you say finding strength in his unwavering resolve. "I've fought to keep darkness at bay from my corner of the world. Now it seems I shall extend my watch over the wider lands of middle earth."

Aragorn's eyes soften and a smile plays at the corner of his mouth, a rare break from his stoic mask. "With your help I believe we stand a chance. Let us go forward with hope in our hearts and a steadfast will," he says with a firm belief underpinning his words.

As you start to walk back towards the Fellowship Aragorn's tone lightens once more and he casts you a mischievous glance. "And I must say, for someone so adept at navigating these wild lands your skill at catching us unaware is remarkable," he jests. A playful note in his voice. "Even the elf’s keen eyes did not see you coming, which, I assure you, will be a source of friendly jest for many years to come."

The tension that held you moments before unravels into laughter. The absurdity of the situation finally coming forward. "I'll remember to tread lightly next time—or perhaps not," you respond with a chuckle.

From a distance, Legolas, whose elven senses miss little, looks up from his conversation with Gimli. He casts a mockingly indignant glance toward Aragorn. His eyes speaking silent volumes of an 'I heard that.' His feigned glare dissolves into a smile. Acknowledging the jest with the grace and good humor characteristic of the Woodland Prince.

The shared laughter and Legolas' playful acknowledgment bridge the space between you helped to weave the Fellowship closer together in mutual affection. It's a light-hearted interlude, reminding you all that despite the daunting path ahead you are surrounded by companions who will share the burden with unwavering support and moments of joy.

As you all move forward the sun dips below the horizon and the journey of the Fellowship grows richer by one more warrior. In the fading light Aragorn walks beside you, your strides matched. It was a simple silent acknowledgment of the bond beginning to form. Blossoming from the unexpected encounter that could very well shape the fate of all.

The Fellowship continues its perilous journey through Middle earth. The days meld into each other each bringing its own set of challenges and trials. You find your place among these diverse companions. Your skills as a ranger becoming invaluable as you navigate the treacherous terrain. Whether it's finding safe passages through impassable woods or tracking the movements of distant enemies your expertise does not go unnoticed.

Legolas often joins you on scouting missions. His feather light footfalls barely stirring the leaves. Gimli, the dwarf, though gruff, begins sharing tales of the deep mines of Moria with a relish that only grows with your attentive silence. Even Merry and Pippin find ways to lighten your load, often bringing you sweet, wild berries they gather along the way. Aragorn watches all of this with a thoughtful expression often playing across his face. In dangerous moments when shadowy figures loom and the threat of orcs feels ever-present, he stays close. His protectiveness is subtle, a guiding hand at your back, a cautious glance that lingers just a moment too long. You notice the unspoken bond growing stronger with each passing day.

As the journey presses onward Aragorn finds himself increasingly drawn to your strength and resilience. He respects your independence, the way you move through the forest, part of its shadow and light, yet he feels a burgeoning desire to protect you. It’s a feeling that stirs deep within him, unbidden yet persistent.

One bitterly cold night as the Fellowship encamps in a secluded glen your turn at watch finds you shivering against the chill. The fire is but a low glow as its warmth insufficient against the piercing cold. You hug your cloak tighter around your shoulders. You hear the soft approach of footsteps too heavy to be of Legolas.

Aragorn appears by your side his face etched with concern. Without a word he drapes his own, heavier cloak around your shoulders. The warmth from the cloak that was still holding the heat of his body, seeps into your chilled bones.

But you shake your head at his actions. "You'll be too cold," you protest trying to shrug off the cloak back onto him.

Aragorn shakes his head gently pushing the cloak back over your shoulders. "I'm used to the cold. I’m from the north you are not," he insists softly. "Keep it. It's more important that you stay warm."

Gratefully you wrap the cloak tighter around you as Aragorn settles beside you. "Tell me of your lands," he says quietly. His voice inviting you to share more than just the cold night air.

"My home," you begin. Your voice warming as you describe the hidden valleys and towering forests of your land, "is secluded and wild, full of ancient trees that seem to touch the sky. There are streams that sparkle with the clearest water you've ever seen and fields of flowers that bloom so vividly they look like a painter's canvas."

Aragorn listens intently. His eyes reflecting a growing fascination. "And the creatures," you continue, "are as varied as the plants. From the smallest bird to the majestic stags that roam freely… each adds to the life of the forest. It's a place where the world feels untouched, preserved from the scars of battle and time."

As you speak, Aragorn's gaze deepens as if he can see the very landscapes you describe. "It sounds beautiful," he murmurs looking straight at you as you spoke so lovingly of your home, "a land worth protecting."

Encouraged by his interest you lean into him, seeking warmth in more than just his cloak. Aragorn wraps an arm around you making sure to pull you closer. In the shelter of his embrace, the cold feels a world away. The moment feels suspended in time, your breaths mingling, hearts beating a steady rhythm.

Nestled in the safety of Aragorn's arm feels right even if it’s so foreign to you. You stay like that for the remainder of your watch with the warmth of his presence and the cloak combined keeping the night's chill at bay. When dawn paints the sky with hues of pink and gold, you, and Aragorn rise, knowing that while the journey ahead is fraught with peril, the warmth between you will carry you through the darkest times.

As the days stretch and the challenges of your journey with the Fellowship intensify the bond between you and Aragorn deepens with each shared glance and whispered word. The lightness in the air is palpable. Especially when the hobbits, Merry and Pippin, exchange amused looks or giggle softly whenever you and Aragorn share a tender moment.

One cool morning as the camp stirs awake and prepares for the day’s trek, Aragorn approaches you with a shy demeanor that you've come to cherish. In his hand is a small, intricately carved wooden figurine. “I made this for you,” he says presenting it with a modest pride. “It’s a bird from your forest.” The craftsmanship is exquisite. Somehow he captured the spirit of the wilderness you hold dear.

Moved by this thoughtful gesture you examine the figurine closely, the details meticulously rendered. "Thank you, Aragorn. It's beautiful. More beautiful than the bird itself," you say sincerely. At this, a blush creeps across Aragorn’s cheeks. It was a rare sight that makes him seem almost boyish, his usual composed exterior softened by your appreciation. Surprising both him and you, you wrap your arms around him in a quick, heartfelt hug—a rarity for you, as you've never been one to initiate physical touch save for cold nights.

This closeness that has enveloped you both is fortified not just through acts of tenderness but also through the trials that test your resolve. During a perilous trek through a narrow gorge, a sudden crumbling of the path catches Aragorn off-guard. Reacting with the swift instincts of a seasoned ranger you grab his arm and pull him back from the brink of a deadly fall. Eyes locked with a rush of shared relief and unspoken thanks passes between you. "Thank you, Y/N," he breathes out. His hand squeezed yours in a lingering, grateful touch.

This moment cements your mutual reliance and it's not long before it is tested again under more dire circumstances. As the Fellowship faces an overwhelming assault at the gates of an enemy stronghold, the chaos of battle quickly ensues. Amid the clash of steel and shadow you find yourself momentarily overwhelmed. Panic rising in your chest as an orc nearly breaches your guard. In that critical instant Aragorn is there, his presence a calming force. "Stay strong, Y/N. I am here with you," he whispers fiercely. His words cutting through the din of battle making sure to anchor you back to the moment.

Revitalized by his words you fight with renewed vigor, but the battle tests you further. As you engage a formidable orc chieftain his massive blade swings at you with lethal force. You parry, but the strength behind the attack staggers you. Before the orc can strike the final blow, Aragorn intervenes with a desperate shout deflecting the deadly arc just inches from you. Saving your life twice within a matter of a few moments apart. Together you rally, your movements fluid and fierce and with a powerful combination of strikes you bring the towering foe down.

The battle's intensity doesn’t immediately fade, but as it does Aragorn's hand finds your shoulder. His grip was firm and reassuring. His eyes alight with the fire of battle and something deeper meet yours. "With you by my side I believe there is no battle we cannot win," he declares his voice thick with emotion of the battle and nearly losing you. As you and the rest of the Fellowship take a moment to regroup and recover it’s clear that what you and Aragorn share has evolved beyond companionship to something profound. With each step forward towards the dark heart of Mordor your bond strengthens.

As the harsh landscape of Mordor stretches endlessly before you, the air thick with the stench of doom and the ground scarred by countless battles, the Fellowship readies itself for what everyone understands to be the final confrontation. Amid the chaos of preparations and sharpened swords you and Aragorn find a brief respite behind a jutting crag, a momentary shield from the surrounding turmoil.

Aragorn looks at you carefully. His eyes reflecting the storm of emotions raging inside him—hope, fear, determination. “We have come far, haven’t we?” he says softly. Almost lost in the clamor of the encampment.

“Yes, farther than I ever imagined,” you reply feeling the weight of every mile traveled and battle fought in your bones. “And through it all your presence has been my anchor.”

He takes your hand. His touch steady and sure. “And I will remain by your side,” he vows, “through whatever may come. No matter the darkness that lies ahead… we face it together.”

You nod. Your resolve fortified by his words. “Together,” you affirm, squeezing his hand, the word a silent oath between you.

As you both turn to face the battlefield the ominous shadow of Mount Doom looms in the distance. A stark reminder of the task yet unfinished. The air vibrates with the tension of imminent conflict. As the Fellowship lines up ready to engage the enemy forces, the battle begins with a deafening roar.

The clash is brutal. A maelstrom of steel and shadow as both sides pour their fury into each other. Amidst the chaos your focus narrows to the figures around you—Aragorn fighting with the grace and fury of a born leader. His blade a flash of silver in the dim light.

In the middle of it all the ground shakes violently underfoot. A tremor that sends many stumbling. A profound boom rolls across the battlefield echoing from the direction of Mount Doom. The combatants pause, uncertainty halting their movements as all eyes turn towards the source of the disturbance.

As if by a miracle a great light bursts forth from the mountain. A blinding flash that pierces the shadowed sky. The Ring, the source of so much pain and darkness, has been destroyed. You feel a surge of relief so intense it momentarily takes your breath away. Aragorn's face lights up with unrestrained joy as he turns to you, laughter bubbling up from deep within. "They did it! Sam and Frodo did it!" he shouts his laughter mingling with his words. A sound so full of relief and disbelief that it's contagious.

Around you the enemy falters, confusion and fear taking hold as the reality of their defeat sinks in. The forces of darkness begin to retreat, their will broken by the destruction of the Ring. As the battlefield quiets the dawn begins to break casting the first gentle light over a world freed from tyranny. You and Aragorn embrace each of your laughter mixing with tears of joy. The sound a vivid testament to the overwhelming relief of the moment. “We’re really here,” you giggle with utter relief, “it’s truly over!”

Rejoining the Fellowship your laughter continues, shared amongst friends who have become family. Watching the new day unfold the group shares a moment of elation. The shared laughter a release of months of tension and fear. With the shadow of the past dispelled, hope shines anew on the horizon promising a future filled with peace and renewal. Together with Aragorn at your side, you step forward into a world reborn.

As the harsh landscape of Mordor fades into the distance behind you replaced by the rolling hills and lush greenery of Gondor the Fellowship's journey reaches its conclusion in the grand city of Minas Tirith. Here, amidst the grandeur of the White City, the coronation of Aragorn, the rightful king, takes place—a moment of triumph and renewal for all of middle earth.

The first light of dawn paints the spires of Minas Tirith with a golden hue. The city awakens to a day of profound significance. The air is filled with the sounds of celebration; the streets are bustling with citizens and allies from across middle earth all gathered to witness a historic moment. Today Aragorn will be crowned King, an event that promises a new era of peace and prosperity for the realm.

Throughout the city banners flutter in the breeze, their vibrant colors a stark contrast against the white stone of the city. The coronation ceremony itself is nothing short of magnificent, held in the open air where the morning sun casts a regal glow over the assembled crowd. Aragorn stands before them, a figure of strength and hope, his voice resonant as he speaks the oaths of kingship.

After the formalities as the echoes of the last trumpet fade into the cool air, the new King Aragorn is surrounded by well-wishers and dignitaries each eager to pay their respects. But his eyes scan the crowd for only one face – yours. With a smile that speaks of shared secrets and promises kept he excuses himself from the throng and makes his way toward you.

You meet him halfway, your heart swelling with pride and love as you look upon the man who has overcome so much to claim his rightful place. Aragorn’s expression softens when he sees you, all the weight of his new role momentarily forgotten. “There would be no joy in this day if I could not share it with you, my Y/N,” he says. His voice was low, meant for your ears alone. His hands reach out gently cradling your face. “You have been my courage when fear would take me. My light in the darkest of times. And it is my greatest hope that you will stand by my side, not just today, but always, as my queen. Together.”

Your eyes brimming with tears of joy, meet his gaze. All the noise and celebration around you fade into a hushed silence. Overwhelmed by his words your heart answers with a silent nod, affirming your shared future.

Aragorn’s eyes flicker with a mixture of tenderness and passion as he leans in. The world holds its breath as his lips finally meet yours in a kiss that is both a seal of everything past and a promise of everything to come. It is deep and passionate, conveying years of struggle, sorrow, victory, and an unbreakable bond.

As you part with his lips, breathless and flushed, the world comes rushing back. Cheers rise around you as a joyful noise that celebrates not just a king’s coronation but the love and unity that stands as the true foundation of his reign.

Hand in hand you stand by Aragorn as he faces the people of Gondor, now truly his queen in spirit and soon in title. Together you look out over the sea of faces, over a land that, at last, can dream of peace. And in this moment you know that every step, every sacrifice, has led to this perfect beginning.

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[copperbadge]

In the continuing adventures of "I am not Gerald dux Shivadlakia but how would you know"...

I recently did the "winter changeover" where if you're in a climate with distinct seasons you put away your summer clothes and get your winter ones out, and I did a closet sort while I was at it. I noticed that my shirts were a little baggy and my winter trousers didn't quite fit either; I thought it was just wear and tear, since about 90% of my clothes are Old Navy and they do stretch out after a while.

But recently while traveling I also noticed a difference in the airline seating, and one of my rings fell off my finger (I almost lost it, but fortunately it fell off into my seat and I found it again when I got up to deplane). When I got home I weighed myself, curious about all this, and sure enough, I've dropped a size-significant amount of weight in the last few months.

There's a passage in Lady And The Tiger where Alanna specifically notices Jerry's signet ring is loose and that while he looks fine physically he seems to have lost weight, which is...very funny in light of all this.

It's not a health concern; the weight came off gradually and I'm still at a good weight for my body type. But I did laugh when I thought about the weight loss and the ring. And I guess I'm going to have to do some alterations to my shirts at least. Hopefully this will also make it easier to get back running again since it ought to help with the asthma a bit.

[thepythakorean]

parallels between the boy and the heron and this painting, plus general analysis

Arnold Bocklin, Island of the Dead. 1880

i want to preface this by saying i am by no means an art history nerd, i just happen to know some stuff about the background of this painting in particular.

as soon as mahito is sucked into the tower floor he is standing at the shore of an island surrounded by an endless ocean. he is dwarfed by a large set of golden gates that say something like "those who seek my knowledge shall perish" and an even taller forest of cypress trees. these features all frame a white dolmen (primitive tomb usually made of giant rocks stacked like below) that beckons to him.

this scene immediately struck me since it has so many of the visual elements of the painting. mahito is even framed in the foreground to be so very small approaching these giant, daunting structures just like the boat heading for the island in the painting. besides the tombs, the cypress trees are also traditionally associated with mourning and death at least in europe/the mediterranean. other ghibli movies have lavish european aesthetics tied to characters (howl, yubaba, etc.) but it feels particularly intimate here given that mahito's great granduncle, the creator and ruler of this world, is apparently european and can only pass on his role to a direct descendant. (btw not saying the gaudy european decor signature of howl and yubaba aren't important to their characterization, it def is! i'm just saying it stood out to me in this movie especially.) the cliffs full of stone entrance passageways are prominent later in the movie as himi takes mahito through the parakeet's domain, and interestingly, in the delivery room where natsuko is, there is another dolmen behind her (can't find pics since the movie hasn't been uploaded yet urgh).

the backstory to the painting continues to parallel to the events of the story! so there's 5 versions of this painting. the first three versions were painted in a cemetery close to bocklin's residence which was also full of white headstones and sculptures, and cypress trees. one of his infant children, one of many children he lost, was buried there. the one i posted above is the first/second-- while bocklin was working on the first, a the soon-to-be wife of a politician visited his studio, saw the wip, and commissioned her own version with the added white figure and coffin to commemorate her first husband who had just died of diphtheria. already somewhat similar to how mahito's mother died in the hospital fire (well. she died from the fire but presumably she was there because she was sick) and when his father shortly remarried. these were also added to the initial wip and stuck in later versions of the painting. bocklin later wrote to her, "you will be able to dream yourself into the world of dark shadows". the movie is also very dreamlike-- it's a fantasy world filled with strange creatures, alternate versions of people he knows, and passages that seem to alter the fabric of time and space. people also seem to forget about it as soon as they leave even after spending long periods of time in it like a dream. the painting is also very dreamlike, but why? the warm lighting, maybe not in the version i posted but in a couple others, may explain it, but the island itself resembles the curtains and stage of a theater (referencing the audio clip below the description). even if it doesn't look EXACTLY like that to you, it's definitely a too-perfect little scene in a nebulous expanse of space. this theatrical quality is also shown in the movie by the parakeet uprising side plot as well as the scene when himi and mahito collapse in front of the delivery room-- the curtain falls directly in front of the viewer over them as though a stageplay just ended. oh and a friend mentioned to me how this is a classic hero's journey plot and mirrors orpheus in the underworld. island of the dead has also directly inspired NUMEROUS other works of art, including other paintings, stage productions, and symphonic poems. apparently the painting was so popular many people in berlin hung prints of it in their homes (i do too)! as i stated above though, a lot of the visual elements in the painting were already traditional symbols relating to death so i don't want to 100% conclude that miyazaki was directly inspired by this painting, he may have just also resonated with those symbols independent of bocklin which i still think is awesome.

the first time we see himi also reminded me of the painting. she's wearing a white dress and standing at the bow of a small wooden boat, and though her intentions are to save the warawara from the pelicans, she inevitably kills some of them too. visually and thematically she's like the white figure at the front of the rowboat in the painting. she acts as a guide for mahito (analogous to the rower? he traveled to this world of his own volition but needed a guide) for a good part of the movie and is a collage of life and death. she is a younger but kind of omniscient version of his dead mother; she's known all along she is mahito's mother but is about to be born into the world by the end of the movie and accepts her fate happily. she can control fire which envelops her like how she died in the real world, but is harmless to the touch unless she directs it as a weapon, and as we see with the warawara and pelicans it helps creation but also destroys much like fire's role in the natural world. natsuko, though a separate person from himi, is still connected as a sibling, and we see her wandering into the forest at the beginning of the movie while wearing white like himi, back turned to mahito, and that is what prompts him to first enter the tower. the strange nature of her character that doesn't adhere to a proper time or space parallels the way the white figure completely stands out in the painting, at least the ones with darker lighting. another crazy parallel surrounding fire and wwii between the painting and the movie is that the fourth version of this painting was destroyed during wwii due to bombing, again like how mahito's mother's hospital was presumably set on fire by bombing during the war.

the looming effects of war alluded to throughout the movie eventually tie into its resolution, when mahito accepts his new family that he initially rejected, his own imperfect being, and the fact that one must seek out love to be happy in this bitch of a world. his great granduncle is confused as to why mahito wouldn't want to recreate his own world like him. why would you want to return to the world that killed your mother and rejects you as a person? the world that forces your people to die in war and will eventually drop the deadliest weapon mankind has ever seen even a century from now onto your home? you can make everything perfect here! he's created something of a "paradise" himself, full of lush tropical plants, parakeets, and strange insects (some of them looked like the bugs from nausicaa, another fantastical world of lush nature which is also threatened by war. interesting), almost like a garden of eden, and it so happens to be at the very top of the tower. funnily enough, bocklin also painted this several years later:

Arnold Bocklin, Island of Life. 1888

i don't know much about this one so idk if it's an explicit companion piece to the island of the dead but it certainly looks like it. the similarities are now less apparent to the movie if there are any, it's much less lush but there are exotic plants and uh birds and stuff. this is definitely more likely a case of shared inspiration from the symbols themselves rather than movie directly looking at the painting. anyway clearly the promise of a perfect paradise isn't real, as this is interrupted by a war of his own unwitting creation, the uprising of the parakeets he wanted to breed in a paradise that literally bring about the end of the world. no world will ever be perfect when left long enough to its own devices. life finds a way! plus, this world was created through so much death (the construction workers in hazardous conditions, the way the tower keeps spiriting people away. btw in the english sub mahito's dad calls the whole ordeal a "disappearance" but he says "kamikakushi" in japanese which means "hidden by god" in reference to people who mysteriously disappeared as if from supernatural circumstances and yes that's the word they used in the japanese title of spirited away!!!) and is on the verge of collapsing from reality every three days just because of some building blocks?? the real world may be on fire but it'll go out/burn less badly someday, and at least it won't completely disappear in a snap, not in an easily imagined timescale for a human anyway. it's up to you to make the best of it, and this is what mahito decides. there are also visual allusions to other ghibli movies about the constantly present threat or consequences of war. the only other landmark aside from the island mahito lands on is a line of ships which kiriko later tells him are all fake. it immediately reminded me of the stream of planes in porco rosso which were the souls of dead fighter pilots moving on. the shadow people in the swamp were also reminiscent of those in the train in spirited away, which are never explained to my knowledge but the given that spirited away's characters are largely spirits and the way souls are so similarly designed in this movie makes me feel that they were also souls of people in spirited away.

through this imagined otherworld, there is also the blurring of lines between life and death, reality and imagination. himi plus her dyad with natsuko (they're sisters AND they look exactly the same AND both are mother figures to mahito) are great examples of this. mahito's mother is gone, he knew this and set foot into the world anyway. he rejected natsuko as his new mother but in going through the struggles of the tower he comes to accept familial love for her and even keeps confusing "natsuko" and "mom" while reaching out to her in the delivery room. a family is made up of different people but inevitably you will see each other in each person. in the delivery room scene we see the paper hanging from the ceiling lash out to attack and stick to mahito like tape, it even leaves red marks on him. this is one of the best scenes in the movie to me because of its visual contrast to him rushing to save his mother in the fire. in the fire scene, the real world around him is blurred and distorted and at times so is mahito and especially his mother. the fire doesn't seem to burn him or his clothes (i could be remembering that wrong tho) and the scene cuts off before it shows him possibly going in further. in the delivery room, everything is drawn with clean lineart, no stylization. there is no mistaking the reality of this situation even though this world is conjured, the dawning realization upon mahito that this person is his mother is so visceral that he actively fights through the paper literally snapping its jaws and natsuko spitting her hatred towards him. when mahito is ready to leave the tower, himi leaves through a separate door to be born as his mother sometime in the past though she is not a warawara and knows what has happened/will happen, an exception that further demonstrates the nonlinear nature of time and space in the movie.

after coming out of the tower, the heron tells mahito he should forget everything that happened in there. even his grandmother seemed to have forgotten the whole year she spent in there (it seems like tower time reflects irl time judging by the events of the movie). anything that comes out doesn't just disappear, it transforms into a real-life counterpart as we saw with the pelicans leaving as they were (presumably minus the ability to speak) and the parakeets going from big bloodthirsty things to regular parakeets. so mahito can't just forget, especially because he comes out changed from his experiences in there, not just himself personally but also his changed relationships with natsuko and the heron, and also his little souvenirs. then the movie abruptly ends with mahito narrating that they left for tokyo again shortly after the war ended. i like to think that this was a hopeful ending where mahito maintained that character development and was able to welcome natsuko and his new sibling into his family while being able to seek more friends and family in the future. i've seen other analyses talking about how this movie was semi-autobiographical for miyazaki and i can see it, how events early in his life shaped his personality and how he had to fight to find beauty in a world that otherwise treated him poorly, so i'm glad he ended the movie on that note, although in less words. pretty similar to how spirited away ended, although there was arguably more loss involved, but still hopeful, and that's what i find so powerful about this movie. and like this movie, spirited away involves a dyad between yubaba and zeniba as a device for the hardships and beauty of life, how they're not so discreet at times. as a last kindasorta tie-in to bocklin's work, i'll point again to the island of life which was created after the island of the dead, plus a composition directly inspired by the island of the dead, a symphonic poem with the same title written by sergei rachmaninoff. the last time i listened to this was in high school and it's like. 20 minutes long so i'm too impatient to give it a relisten now but from my vague recollection plus some quick searches it's a very somber piece that escalates into emotional climaxes yet still contains warmer tones, and goes back to the same "rowing" motif at the end. it weaves together evocations of life and death in one piece, also illustrating how the two really are so closely connected.

tl;dr, this was me the entire movie because miyazaki SEEMS to be heavily inspired by this one symbolist painting i happen to like a lot:

also also here's a self portrait of bocklin:

yes, all of his paintings are that cool.