#please don't make me not like her too

[sarah-cam]

me @ jeremiah:

[bring-cringe-back]

Okay I might just be reading too much into this. But while I was watching the episode *cough cough* procrastinating *cough cough I realised that they don't show how the Doctor and Ruby got there.

And I know that it's probably just meant to be vaguely like 'they just went for fun'.

BUT this is the third episode in a row where we haven't seen them arrive. And for 73 yards it was clearly a doctor who episode when it started but it immediately gets rid of the doctor. ( I know that for 73 yards and for dot and bubble it was because Ncuti Gatwa was filming other stuff but let me cook) In Dot and Bubble you could effectively be forgiven for assuming that it was a random Black Mirror episode or something similar until the Doctor turns up, and tbh if you were just flicking through channels and haven't been watching Doctor Who you could probably basically not know for much longer. In Rogue they are just there, except for the title screen (the same for dot and bubble) you could basically watch it as a Bridgerton episode until the Chuldur turn up.

(And there's whole other rant about how the Chuldur fits into the theory about this basically being a TV show within a TV show, I don't know the name for this theory)

But anyway these episodes are increasingly separated from the Doctor and Ruby as plot points particularly in the beginning of episodes. They are more and more like an excuse to tell the story or explore the topic that the writers want to explore. Which isn't totally different from the occasional episode of previous series, but this is a lot more in my memory at least from previous series. So it feels a lot like they are skimming over the more sci-fi doctor who elements. Which fits in in my mind to the idea that the 'One who waits' is a representation of story telling. I've seen theories that it's Ruby but she doesn't know it which makes sense, I think it would also make sense for it to be her parent(s) who left her, or alternatively just it's own thing all together. But it feels very like that bit where Amy is living a life and starts to realise it's all fake.

The narrowing down of these episodes into not showing them arriving, and at least in Rogue - I can't remember in the others - not showing them leaving the story, feels very different.

It feels more and more like story telling. They have covered fairy tales, Period pieces/Romance, Dystopia, War/SciFi, Musicals, Political Drama. They are also showing the doctor playing his role, something that we see companions doing often enough but we seldom see the doctor doing it.

In Space Babies he is scared of a new creature. In the Devil's Code he sings a song that makes little sense in the story, he doesn't question the road making noise. In Boom he's more himself but it's also the closes to his 'normal' environment. In 73 Yards they just fully remove him from the story, which I realise was done for filming requirements but would have been so interesting to see the doctor in a Political drama. In Dot and Bubble he plays the role of the outsider bringing information to those living under a Dystopia, how is he UNABLE to access the inside, sure he plays a role that's fairly similar to himself but Doctor Who is really Dystopian.

In Rogue he is becoming more and more his role, he is playing the role of a sort of Elizabeth Bennet style character, a strong romantic interest for the brooding man. Which is great, he makes fun of the genre, but he is hyper aware of the genre and still ends up in its pitfalls. He trusts a man so quickly he ends up handing over his sonic, he gets proposed to and basically immediately accepts. Now I am really hoping that Rogue gets to stay around I really liked him as a character, regardless of which theory of his identity if any are true. But the Doctors reaction to him is still a little out of character, he is feeling what he is SUPPOSED to feel and he is acting how he is SUPPOSED to act.

It just feels to me like an increasing number of these episodes are more and more story like and more and more separated from the more Doctor Who elements. And the lack of an introduction of how they get there, and the lack of them leaving in the TARDIS is so unusual to me and stands out to my brain so much.

It feels like they are removing elements that don't fit the genre. Anyway not sure if that makes any sense but I'm vibing with it.

[taiyami]

Btw Habibi @pinchan is doing a pay what you want commissions drive to help pay for some expenses. It will draw your oc so good you'll leap with joy, maybe even moan a little.

[expelliarmus]

[myreia]

✦ D I S C I P L E O F T H E H A N D

Alchemy for potions. Blacksmithing for repairs. Leatherworking and weaving for mending. She is not an artisan, but the basic skills she has picked up over the years have served her well. Self-sufficiency has always been at the forefront of her mind, and she is pleased that she can keep herself afloat when needed. Besides, crafting is relaxing. A hobby or two here and there is good for her mind. —level 90 compendium

[dootznbootz]

I think some folks MAY have gotten the wrong idea about how I feel about Circe with some of my posts. So, to clear the air...

Homies, I love that fucked up sorceress.

I love how we're never given a reason why she turns people into animals. That's so funny and so awful. And another potion-making magic gal?!?! I love that she's just basically vibing on an island doing whatever she wants. I even love the fact that she scares Odysseus shitless! She's morally gray and that's why she's FUN.

I just sincerely hate when people try to girlboss her or have her be a victim of SA when she never was Looking at you, Miller. Especially when she was actually the one who coerced Odysseus in exchange for his men being transformed back into humans. And even then, while he was clearly afraid of her, (it's in the language of the Odyssey) she likely meant him no harm after a certain point. He just didn't know that.

Why does she need a reason to do awful things? Why can't she just be a goddess who does whatever she wants? That's the reason why I love her!!! She's fucked up!!! :D

I hate what the Telegony did to her as well! >:( You're telling me, this sorceress goddess, who makes potions (!!!) wouldn't have magic contraceptives??? Would WANT CHILDREN?!?! WITH THE PATHETIC WIFEMAN?! No. Fuck no. Eugammon of Cyrene, I have beef with you 🤬

Anyways!!! Understand all the "#anti circe" I have is simply Anti "Girlboss Circe" or the book. I genuinely think she's neat af as her morally gray, fucked up sorceress self and just get frustrated with...everything :'D

[lunar-years]

“How the fuck does Taylor Swift know about my kebab place?” Roy said angrily, kicking the front door closed behind him with gusto. “That’ll be another pound, Uncle Roy,” Phoebe chirped, not bothering to look up from her bracelet making.

Taylor Swift is in town for The Eras Tour. Phoebe and Jamie and Keeley and seemingly all of greater fucking London all desperately want to attend. These facts together combine to make for Roy's worst nightmare, but also, quite possibly, for a rare moment of warmest sun right when he needs it the most.

Roy/Jamie/Keeley

[bittersweetresilience]

say hi to me i don't know, i just remembered being so much brighter, i guess

cigarette ash like wildfire burning holes in the nighttime open scars feel like barbed wire white lies flying high like a ceasefire dropping flags on the shoreline this is as far as i can feel right 'cause what you don't know can haunt you

and all we ever wanted was sunlight and honesty highlights to want to repeat let's get away from here and live like the movies do i won't mind when it's over at least i didn't think for a while

don't drag it out living like that doesn't mean a thing

so let's, make a great escape and i'll be waiting outside for the getaway it doesn't matter who we are we'll keep running through the dark and all we'll ever need is another day we can slow down 'cause tomorrow is a mile away and live like shooting stars 'cause happy endings hardest to fake

and i wanna let you know i wanna let you go but i just can't bring myself to speak but this is how it goes the end credits, they roll this bridge was built over kerosene but we can watch it and all i ever wanted was sunlight and honesty highlights to want to repeat let's get away from here and live like the movies do i won't mind when it's over at least i didn't think

so let's run, make a great escape and i'll be waiting outside for the getaway it doesn't matter who we are we'll keep running through the dark and all we'll ever need is another day we can slow down 'cause tomorrow is a mile away and live like shooting stars you can wish away forever but you'll never find a thing like today

[distance-does-not-matter]

i deserve compensation (psych minor hearing about freud during a summer english class)

[flowerslut]

Years after their departure from Forks, the Cullens have lowered their guard, moved on from their fear, and made plans for the future. There is no sense in a life half-lived, but despite evidence that assures, Jasper refuses to let his guard down. He knows what dangers can lie uncovered. Eventually, the peace is shattered. A package and a poem arrive in tandem. It is a warning. It is a threat. If the Cullens want to survive, they have to act fast.

roots, a twilight fanfiction

coming to an Ao3 + a FF.net near you

Rating: M (for sexual assault, body horror, graphic descriptions of violence) [full list of trigger/content warnings here] Words: ~197k Canon Compliant / Post-Canon / Canon Couples / Jalice-centric

[preview of chapter one under the cut]

Jasper was annoyed.

Not at the high-pitched whine of the overworked Mac or the fact that he could hear Renesmee loudly complaining to Esme on the level below. It wasn’t the pungent odor of whatever Esme was using to clean the oven that drifted through the vents, nor was it the fact that his chair had started squeaking this morning and they were conveniently out of WD-40. He wasn’t even bothered by the fact that Carlisle had ignored three consecutive calls from his cell while he talked on his work phone, and hadn’t muted any of the calls, letting the rhythmic buzzing on top of his desk echo throughout the second floor. 

No. He was annoyed because Rosalie hadn’t answered his texts before their flight.

His eyes flickered to his phone where it sat, propped up against the unused lamp on his desk, before they moved back to the screen of his desktop. Then, he glanced toward the door of his study, back toward the phone, and then to the screen again.

He could hear the other occupants of the house moving about as the day finally ended and the night picked up where it left off. None of them were heading in his direction yet, but he knew that being interrupted tonight was guaranteed.

His last conversation with his wife flickered through his head and he frowned.

Jasper looked back toward his phone.

Then back toward his computer screen.

Eventually the annoying ‘SMS NOT DELIVERED’ notification flickered across his phone screen, mocking him with its stubbornness. He tapped the ‘resend’ button without another thought, restarting the arduous process of waiting for his damn text message to send.

It wasn’t his main focus tonight. His fingers clicked away on his keyboard, his attention focused more on the internet browser in front of him. 

They were undecided between two different towns now. “Some place new,” their youngest family member had begged. Renesmee had been begging for years now, pretending to be tired of the old homes they’d been shuffling between for over a century now (barely thirty years for her), and it looked like she was finally going to get her way.

It wasn’t for anyone’s sake other but Renesmee’s. They all knew that. It had been almost ten years since his niece had gotten the idea in her head that it would be fun to live somewhere “separate, but close.” Those had been the peculiar words she’d chosen while trying to explain the hypothetical tunnels that they could use to travel between the hypothetical three houses that would be built all “close together but far enough away that any neighbors wouldn’t see”.

They’d never had neighbors close enough to see what was going on in any of their homes, but even so, ‘separate but close’ had turned into a running joke. A ridiculous joke that was inching closer and closer to becoming a true project they’d be taking on soon.

Bella still blamed her daughter’s idea on some urban exploration video she’d watched one too many times during, what she’d called, Renesmee’s ‘breaking-and-entering phase.’

That particular phrasing still made Jasper laugh. 

But Edward had rolled his eyes before going off on another tangent about ‘ethical responsibility’ that they’d all heard some variation of before. He’d never been entertained by his daughter’s adventures across North America as she journeyed into every rusted, grown-over abandoned building she could find, and even less thrilled with the way she’d been enabled by her built-in best friend. 

When Edward told Renesmee no, Jacob usually told her yes. Vice versa. Rinse and repeat.

Jasper’s eyes flickered toward the door across from him, then toward the screen of his phone. The red notification flashed right after he fixed his gaze back on his computer and he, without looking, reached out and pressed ‘resend’ again.

Jasper knew that thirty-six thousand feet above the Pacific Ocean didn’t make for a great place to receive text messages, even if the plane’s wifi worked. Knowing Rosalie, she would enforce her and Emmett’s ridiculous ‘no phone’ rule until they landed at LAX. The only person who had ever protested to that limitation on family vacations had been Alice, and then later, Renesmee had joined in.

Nowadays it was only enforced on trips where Rosalie was around.

Of course Rose and Emmett both checked in every few days for a handful of minutes. They sent pictures, asked how everyone was (Renesmee, mainly) and shared a quick anecdote or two from their trip across South Asia. It was one of the places they hadn’t explored yet, and because they didn’t seem to want to be careful or do more than the basest amount of research into their travels, someone had to.

Jasper brought up another internet window. It had only been minimized, and he was trying not to watch it too closely. (He was barely even watching it at all.) It only took a few seconds to refresh the tabs in the window. Their flight coordinates updated, their plane’s flight progress trip refreshed, and finally the rental car shop around the corner from the airport in Manila updated their systems, confirming the prompt return of their coupe several hours before.

They were still a few hundred miles from the coast and out of radar range. Until their flight was back in line-of-sight range from a tracking station and off of satellite tracing he would continue to refresh the page periodically.

It was something to do while he clicked between ‘for sale’ advertisements in Elkins, West Virginia and in towns around the outskirts of Erie, Pennsylvania. The two towns weren’t similar in many regards, except for more cloud cover than the average small town. The hundreds of acres of affordable land was what had become most appealing to Esme, who had already begun to draw up ideas as to what their new home—or homes—would look like.

Of course Esme had also been far too willing to indulge Renesmee with her planning. It provided her with two things: the ability to keep her entire family close, and the challenge of designing and constructing multiple homes.

The upstairs loft area was covered end to end with sketches and blueprints and fabric samples. Alice had been forced to utilize her smaller sewing machine as of late, even moving it into his study so she could work “with some god-forsaken space to think” while fixing up a few of her current projects.

 Jasper laughed when she first complained under her breath that the power of suggestion was useless in the face of Esme with a project underway. She’d ranted more than once to him over the past few months about how she’d have to restitch every hem she’d applied to the family’s winter wardrobe once Renesmee’s curtain-and upholstery-designing lessons were done with. When Jasper had suggested she use the area when Renesmee and Esme weren’t around, she just whined more about “the principal of it all!” and had since then refused any alternative ideas.

The power of suggestion, he noted, was also useless when it came to his wife.

Jasper sighed quietly and regretted it instantly. The footsteps that had been halfway toward the stairs at the end of the hall paused, and with a turn and a skip, he knew his peace was as good as over.

He minimized his pages of tracking details and pulled up the real estate website on his browser. Two seconds later, a peculiar knock that lasted several seconds and included a variety of multi-finger taps and scratches, echoed through his study.

“Is that The Prophet’s Song?” He asked, without needing to. They both knew that was the beat that had just been rapped against the wood.

A frustrated groan carried through the door before it was flung open. Renesmee’s exasperation was as clear in her tone as it was in her aura. “What the hell!” She flung her hands up dramatically before letting them fall to her thighs with a slap. “You’re too good at that,” she complained. “It’s so annoying.”

“If you keep picking songs from popular bands it’s going to be easy.” He fixed his eyes back onto his screen as she strode in. She didn’t bother closing the door behind her; anything they said would be heard throughout most of the house whether the door was open or not. “That’s also the third Queen song you’ve chosen this month.”

“I’m on a Freddie Mercury kick.”

“Is that so?”

“An 80s kick, really.” 

“That song came out in ’75.”

She huffed. “You know what I mean.” Jasper knew he wasn’t getting out of this conversation easily when she didn’t sit herself down on the couch or the chaise beneath the window. Renesmee perched herself on the edge of his desk and grinned at him. “Dad doesn’t think I should get to have a room in Aunt Rosie’s house and their house so I’m digging deep into his favorite music eras.”

Jasper snorted. He kept his eyes trained on the screen as he clicked through photos of a few decrepit farmhouses on one of the properties he was looking at. “Very mature.”

“Thank you, I think so, too.” She crossed her arms over her chest and sighed. “At least I’m not campaigning for my own house. Which I totally could, by the way. Grandma said she’d help me design one and I know Mom wouldn’t fight me on it. Dad’s just stubborn.”

“He can also probably hear you.”

“No, he and Mom went ‘hunting’,” she stage-gagged and shuddered with all the dramatics Jasper had grown to expect from her over the years. He’d only met Bella’s mother twice, but sometimes he swore that Renesmee took after her more than she did either of her parents.

It was a theory that annoyed Edward, so naturally Jasper had adopted it into his belief system and brought it up at regular intervals.

He performed a quick sweep of the remaining auras in the house. Alice was down in the den with Esme, both of them highly amused by some conversation they were having or TV show they were watching. Carlisle was in his office, expelling a fragile exasperation that Jasper knew wouldn’t last, as he explained over the phone to a member of the hospital staff that yes, while he did want his patients to have a direct link to him for emergencies, a baby with repeated bouts of hiccups did not constitute as an emergency.

Jasper silently noted Bella and Edward’s absence. “Time to plot then, I suppose,” he hummed as he opened a new tab and prepared to research machinery rentals in Elkins. After they priced out how much it would cost to start construction there, they could get the ball rolling. The minimized window at the bottom of his screen was tempting him, but he pointedly ignored it. He could wait for Renesmee to leave before refreshing it.

Renesmee groaned and then laughed. “Aunt Alice is right!”

Jasper quirked an eyebrow but didn’t avert his gaze. He knew that, but— “About what?”

“You’re such a worrywart.”

He lifted his eyes to see her leaning overtop of two of his monitors to glance at the screen of his phone. The red words declaring ‘SMS NOT DELIVERED’ had flickered once more across the screen without him noticing. His unsent text message was still green where it sat in his phone.

He reached out for the device and turned the screen off before he pocketed it.

“Instead of sending them Zillow links you could just, I don’t know, ask them for updates probably. Not that Aunt Rosie will reply to either.” Jasper ignored her. Since she couldn’t see the screen he was looking at, he quickly closed down the browser that had held all of Emmett and Rosalie’s flight tracking information and trip details. It would take him a few minutes to hack back into the TRACON but it would give him something to do after Renesmee left. “Aunt Alice told me Aunt Rosie hadn’t replied to you in like, four days. I bet she blocked your number.”

He finally met her expression. Her shit-eating grin was the same one Edward wore sometimes.

Jasper rolled his eyes. “To what do I owe the harassment of my favorite niece?”

“And don’t you forget it!” She hopped up off of the desk and walked over to the couch, flipping through some discarded mail. “You really ought to open this you know,” she told him as she lifted up a letter from their new forger. “If Mom finds out you haven’t replied she’s going to steal this.”

Jasper stood and walked around his desk, taking both the unmarked letter and the rest of the mail from her hands. “Renesmee.”

“Uncle Jasper.” She tried to school her expression into something more serious as she saluted him, but the smile was still there on the corners of her lips.

He ruffled her hair before she could smack his hand away, then turned toward his file cabinets. “What do you want?”

“I want to go hunting!”

“No.”

“Oh, come on—”

“Why do you want your dad mad at me, too?”

A deal had been made last year when Renesmee got her way and they’d all agreed to do something different and start from scratch in their next town. She would have to turn her diet back to mainly human food before the new year, limiting her hunts to once a month and then, eventually, once every other month.

Something about theories surrounding her nutritional intake and the fact she needed to diversify her diet. Jasper hadn’t been paying too much attention to everyone’s renewed interest in Renesmee’s health. There��d been one incident in the past few years where her health had been taken into question—a flu that had made her bed bound for four days—but even that being a singular isolated incident hadn’t prevented it from turning into Carlisle and Rosalie’s main hobby.

“I thought you were the fun uncle.”

He cracked half of a smile at that. “We both know that’s not true.”

“If I go alone Dad will really have a bitch fit. You and Aunt Alice are like, the only two willing to let me do whatever without having an aneurism.” She paused. “Well, Mom sometimes, too.”

“Great. Talk to her when she gets back.”

Jasper almost felt bad about the wave of genuine frustration and acute disappointment that filled the room as Renesmee made a silent exit, not bothering to close the door behind her. If he weren’t currently occupied he’d probably consider her offer more. After all, she was right about one thing.

He loved his niece, but he didn’t give a damn what she did. If she wanted to test out whether hybrids could get tetanus or how much blood she could really ingest before getting ill, who was he to stop her?

[nerevar-quote-and-star]

Okay, here are my current notes on the Markarth Incident. This is more of an evolution of thought rather than a final product, 'kay? 'kay. XOXO

4E 174 – The Empire recalls all Legions from the far corners of the Empire to participate in the final assault against the Aldmeri-held Imperial City. Every town and city not on the frontlines is left with a skeleton garrison. 

The Reachmen of Western Skyrim chooses to capitalize on this movement. The Reachmen populate an area of Western Skyrim, Eastern High Rock, and Northern Hammerfell. Although they appear similar to the Bretons of High Rock, they are wholly distinct, worshipping gods completely detached from those of Breton culture. During the Second Era, they once ruled Cyrodiil as the Longhouse Emperors; in recent history, they have lived subject to other races, primarily the Nords, who rule much of the Reach. More often than not, Reachmen are second-class citizens, though very rarely have they received decent though not preferential treatment from a Nordic Jarl.

When the Empire recalls their Legions, the capital of the Reach, Markarth, is left functionally undefended. A Reachman leader, Madanach, takes this opportunity to seize the city and install a Reachmen government in place of the Nords. Madanach declares himself King of the Reach and succeeds the Reach from Skyrim. Contemporary Imperial documents show that Madanach sent emissaries to Emperor Titus Mede II in an attempt to have the Reach recognized as its own Imperial Province wholly separate from Skyrim. Titus Mede appeared to have taken this into serious consideration, though he was unable to give it his full attention as the Empire was planning their attack on the Imperial City. 

Conflicting reports on the time frame of the Reachman takeover exist. Reports vary between the takeover beginning in Fourth Era 174 and 177 when the conflict was over. Contemporary Imperial and Forsworn documentation claim that Madanach’s rule was relatively stable, saying he was fair to the Nords, his people ousted from power, and allowed them to remain in the city so long as they recognized his government. It is said that live around Markarth continued in the same way as before, though under the Reachmen rather than the Nords. It may be important to note that Nord landholders who “mistreated” their Reachmen servants were put to death. 

The Nordic perspective (as shared by Jarl Igmund in Fourth Era 201) claims that the Reachmen takeover was violent, leading to a chaotic period in which Nords were heavily discriminated against and no civil cooperation between races. 

[Madanach’s version of events MAY be closer to the truth. N.B: During his rule, he seems willing to help a group of dissident Blades in exchange for a favor.]

The White-Gold Concordat is signed 11th of Sun’s Dusk, Fourth Era 175; Surviving veterans of the Battle of the Red Ring return to their homes, including large populations of Nordic legionnaires. Talos worship is outlawed. Talos temples are closed, though many continue to worship him in private. Ulfric Stormcloak takes offense to the banning of Talos worship, viewing it as a central aspect of Nord culture. His father, Hoag, the Jarl of Windhelm and Bear of Eastmarch, does not legalize Talos worship despite Ulfric’s religiosity. It may be that he wishes to avoid a conflict with the Empire. Jarl Hrolfdir of Markath, in exile by Madanach’s government, promises Ulfric and his supporters religious freedom should they take back the Reach from the Reachmen. This is in blatant disregard of the White-Gold Concordat. 

Ulfric leads a militia across Skyrim to the Reach where they took back Markarth. A few Reachmen leaders were imprisoned, though others were killed, along with most of their warriors, though some were driven off into the surrounding wilds. The survivors in exile began to call themselves the Forsworn. They attack Nords and the Empire indiscriminately due to anger and feelings of betrayal.

Most of the Reachmen leaders are killed. However, allegedly at the request of the Silver-Blood family, Madanach is taken prisoner and held in the depths of Cidhna Mine. The Forsworn claim that the Nords, under Jarl Hrolfdir and Ulfric Stormcloak, took back the city through an excess of unnecessary violence, putting to death or imprisoning anyone who had even spoken to Madanach or said his name. It is also said that the family members of those who were deemed to be against the Nords’ rule were imprisoned or killed, even down to young children. Purported Imperial propaganda puts forth that Ulfric himself killed everyone in Markarth who would not join his cause. 

It is true that there was bloodshed and death of innocents during the retaking of Markarth. The factuality of this claim can be traced to those Reachmen who survived the incident, sharing their experiences twenty-five years afterward. 

Jarl Hrolfdir was assassinated during attempted peace talks with the Forsworn after the retaking of Markarth. It may be that the incident only grew violent after this point due to Nordic retaliation. 

Why would Ulfric and Jarl Hrolfdir use that much unnecessary violence and brutality against the Reachmen if they intended to negotiate with them afterward?

Perhaps Igmund instigates the brunt of the violence against the Reachmen following his father’s death.

Jarl Hrolfdir was marked for death by the Dark Brotherhood. It is unknown who performed the Black Sacrament on the Jarl. It is possible someone from outside the conflict placed the contract on Jarl Hrolfdir’s head as a means of sewing chaos between the opposing sides (it could have been Igmund or Raerek [crack theory; maybe the brother was trying to Lion King his way into power and failed miserably? Or one of them opposed making peace with the Reachmen], or perhaps it was the Aldmeri Dominion?). Regardless, the Jarl’s death is the probable instigator for the deaths of many of the Reachman remaining in Markarth. 

The Imperial Legion shows up not long after the city is retaken. They are seemingly thankful that Ulfric’s militia took back the Reach. When Ulfric lets them into the city, he asks that they recognize the free worship of Talos that Jarl Hrolfdir had legalized in the Reach; otherwise, the Legion would be fought off. The Imperial Legate (or general?) present at the time okays Ulfric’s request, effectively breaking the White-Gold Concordat. Again. Not long after, the Thalmor discovered this and took issue with this breach of treaty. They give the Empire an ultimatum: disband Talos worship in the Reach or prepare for the Great War to be renewed. 

Ulfric and his followers are arrested and imprisoned by the Empire as Talos worship is again banned. The Empire must crack down on cases of Talos worship across the province. In consequence of the incident, the Thalmor gain access to Skyrim for their Justiciars through an Embassy. This is allegedly to enforce the terms of the White-Gold Concordat after it had been broken by the Nords in Fourth Era 176/7, but on an underground level, this allows the Thalmor to hunt, capture, and torture suspected Talos worshippers. The coming of the Thalmor Justiciars to Skyrim is technically a domino effect caused by Ulfric’s demand for free and open Talos worship.

Jarl Hrolfdir’s assassination happens during Ulfric and his supporters imprisonment. It may be possible that it was Ulfric OR one of his men who performed the Black Sacrament (though how could they do this while in an Imperial prison? Ulfric had to smuggle out his eulogy for his father’s funeral – what is the Imperial prison smuggling system like? Could any of them have had access to a dead body? Smuggled in or that of a fellow prisoner?). Whoever performed the Black Sacrament on Jarl Hrolfdir is the root cause for the retribution killings of the Reachmen. (Perhaps it was Thonar Silver-Blood?)

Ulfric is an uncooperative asset to the Thalmor, not because he ever cooperated with them in the first place, but because he is the (unintended) reason they have such a strong foothold in Skyrim now. 

[psikind]

behold, the rare and elusive non-oc art from yours truly

[mothbeasts]

i miss posting and making and engaging with ieytd content but I will be honest sometimes it feels alienating. as a lesbian.

[sergle]

s3 of witcher is so bad but i DO black out during every scene with mahesh jadu in it so at least it can do that for me

[bumblingbabooshka]

One of the best Voyager scenes to indicate Tuvok & Neelix's dynamic and how I think Tuvok is just as if not more 'annoying'(positive) than Neelix is when Neelix pours Tuvok a fresh squeezed glass of a fruit juice blend and Tuvok's like (paraphrased) "I don't want to drink this." and Neelix is like "Can you please try it?" and Tuvok's like "I don't want to, you're really bad at this sort of thing. It's going to taste bad." and Neelix says that Ensign XYZ said she LOVED it, she even had a second glass! And Tuvok says Ensign XYZ could drink poison without a second thought and Neelix is like "Tuvok could you please just TRY it? Just try a little SIP of it PLEASE??" and Tuvok sighs and rolls his eyes and sniffs it before taking a sip and it turns out he loves it. Turns out it tasted good actually. And then after all that Neelix tries to talk to him over eggs (which he's again cooking fresh for him) and Tuvok tells him he doesn't wanna hear "the life history of his breakfast." Absolutely insufferable this man I would have burned his eggs on PURPOSE!!!!

[kuromi-hoemie]

thinking about older women