#sled lantern

[guiltyidealist]

The Red Lantern icons: Iggy

(simple cropped screenshots-- credit not necessary)

[heartscrypt]

one of these days i am going to draft out a fake sled over heels cast and plot based on everything idia has ever said about it in the harveston event

[darkwood-sleddog]

Get your dog sledding yayas out in the new God of War game yall.

(with wolves wearing x-back harnesses!!)

[melzula]

Heyaa, when the requests are open can you maybe do a princess x Zuko where the princess is always clinging to Zuko when she's cold? Just a random thought that came into my mind since Zuko is a firebender hehe :)

pairing: zuko x princess!reader

a/n: this is technically part of the fire lilies series but can also be read as a solo piece independently

summary: princess and zuko go penguin sledding

~ part of the fire lilies series ~

The rush of cold wind against your cheeks is exhilarating as you glide down the snow covered hills. Your delighted laughter carries through the air and brings a smile to Zuko’s face as you enjoy a day penguin sledding out in the palace courtyards.

Being kidnapped by Gilak and having your life threatened once again had been a traumatic experience for both you and your boyfriend, so Hakoda and your mother had advised you take a much needed day off for yourself. He could handle the work of drafting plans for an eco friendly oil rig and the foreign embassies while Pakku and Katara took on the school for the time being. Though you were hesitant to take a day off knowing there was so much to be done, Zuko had been the one to finally convince you that you desperately needed a break.

Today would be his last day in the South before he had to return home, and so you figured the best way to spend your time together would be with a trip through memory lane. You hadn’t been penguin sledding together since you were kids, so it seemed like a good idea to both of you to revisit your favorite pastime from when you were children.

You slow to a stop as you reach the end of the hill and land onto the plush snow below you with a laugh. The chill of the ice sends shivers down your spine but you choose to ignore it. All the back and forth traveling you’ve been doing hasn’t allowed your body the chance to acclimate to the weather of your home yet, but you try not to let it bother you.

“Having fun?” Zuko asks with a laugh as he helps you up off the snow. You immediately cling to his figure in an attempt to steal some of his heat, prompting the Fire Lord to raise a brow as he wraps his arms around your frame. “You’re not getting cold, are you?”

“Of course not,” you scoff indignantly, though your subtle trembling says otherwise.

“Maybe we should head inside-“

“No!” You immediately cry out in protest before he can finish his sentence. “We’ve hardly just begun the day. Don’t you want to keep penguin sledding?”

“Of course I do,” he assures you with a comforting kunik, “but I worry the cold might be too much for you.

“Too much?! I’m Chief of the Southern Water Tribe, I don’t get cold.”

“Alright,” Zuko relents with a chuckle at your adamant rebuttal. For a water bender you’re surprisingly stubborn, but he loves your headstrong nature more than anything. “Let’s keep sledding.”

Your face lights up with glee when he finally relents and allows you to carefully pick up your penguin and carry him back up the hill while showering the creature with praises and pets. He’d forgotten just how much you enjoyed the activity, and it was nice to see that same smile from your childhood again. It had been years since you both went sledding, since you both were just two kids unaware of what the future held in store for you, since you both were free of fear and responsibility and hurt. The war had taken a lot from you, forced you both to grow up too fast, so he was grateful for the fact that you both could just be kids again, even if only for a day.

“Y/n,” Zuko calls as the sun begins to set and the day begins to end, “I think it’s time we head inside for dinner. Your mother said she was making five-flavor soup for us.”

“Just one more time down the hill?” You plead with your best pout, though you know it doesn’t take much to convince Zuko to give in to your requests.

“Alright, but that’s it,” he tells you with a chuckle before following you up the hill. The courtyard lanterns begin to glow beautifully below as the moon starts to overtake the sky, and you exchange playful smiles with one another before beginning your decent down the snow.

Zuko’s hair blows wildly away from his face, his grin the biggest you’ve ever seen it, and you’re so caught up in admiring him that you don’t even notice the large pile of snow you’re about to crash into.

“Princess, look out!” Zuko tries to warn you, but it’s too late. You can do nothing but pull the penguin to your chest and shield it from the impact as you collide into the snowy mound. The Fire Lord winces on your behalf before quickly rushing to your aid. The otter penguin emerges after a moment and shakes the snow off its body before waddling away, but you fail to do the same. Zuko has to dig through the slush to pull you out, and as he lifts you up and into his arms he’s able to feel just how cold to the touch you are.

“Th-Thhere’s s-snow e-every-wh-where,” you complain through chattering teeth as you wrap your arms as tightly around his neck as possible in a desperate attempt to feel his warmth.

“Let’s get you inside before you freeze to death,” he comforts while carrying your trembling figure back inside the palace. If not for Zuko’s body heat, you’d surely already be feeling the effects of hypothermia taking place.

Thankfully, your boyfriend is able to swiftly make it back inside the palace and carry you through the halls towards your room. The heat of Zuko’s embrace melts the ice inside your clothes, but the dampness only seems to worsen the feeling of cold. You shiver incessantly, and he can only look on guiltily as he tries his best to ease your discomfort.

Finally, he swings the door to your bedroom open and carefully sets you back on your feet before helping you remove your heavy coat. He sets the wet material aside to dry before coming up to your trembling figure and rubbing his hands up and down your arms in an attempt to spread heat across your limbs.

“I’ll go find your mother and tell her what happened. You stay here and get out of those clothes before you catch a cold,” he advises you with a meek smile, a red blush tinting his cheeks when he realizes he probably should have phrased his sentence more delicately. Zuko presses a tender kiss to your forehead before leaving to give you your privacy and shutting the door behind him.

Your skin feels like ice as you peel off the rest of your ensemble as quickly as you can. You were so used to beach days at Ember Island and swims in the lakes with your friends that you’d forgotten just how cold the water could be. Considering you grew up in the South, you’re a tad embarrassed to know how easily it gets to you now. You’d been away for so long, and even when you returned home you still found yourself venturing out often, so a part of you wondered if maybe you’d never fully readjust to the climate.

“Y/n?” A voice calls from the other side of the door followed by a gentle knock. “Zuko sent me to check on you. I have the warmest blanket I could find. May I come in?”

“Just a second, Mom,” you reply as you scramble to throw on a fresh set out of clothes and make yourself decent for visitors. After slipping into the warmest dress you can find, you open the door and allow her into your room.

“Someone got a little carried away penguin sledding, I hear,” she says with a teasing smile before draping the blanket around your shoulders. “You’re like ice! Thank spirits Zuko has that natural fire bending warmth to him or you might have frozen out there!”

“Yeah,” you murmur in agreement with a dejected frown, one that your mother notices right away.

“My little koala otter, what’s the matter?”

“I’m just a little embarrassed, I guess,” you admit with a sheepish laugh. “I thought I’d gotten over my aversion to the cold.”

“I think anyone who managed to get snow in their clothes would be cold,” she notes with a faint smile before pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’m just happy to see you having fun again. You had to grow up very fast, something your father and I should have worked harder to prevent, so it’s nice to hear your laugh again and see you sledding like you did as a little girl.”

You smile at her words before pulling her into a tight hug, hoping the action conveys all your appreciation for her. Zuko walks in then with a tray of steaming five-flavor soup and tea in the hopes it will return some of your warmth to you.

“I’ll let you both enjoy your dinner alone,” she says after removing herself from your embrace. Exiting the room, she pauses to give Zuko’s arm a light squeeze. “Make sure she stays warm.”

“Yes, Kira,” he replies with a nod before returning his attention to you. “Let’s get you settled in.”

Setting the tray aside, Zuko escorts you back to bed and tucks the blanket around your figure as best as he can with you sitting up. Once you’re comfortable, he presses a tender kiss to your forehead before handing you the cup of tea. It’s the same cup from the set Iroh had gifted you some time ago, and the sight of it brings a faint smile to your face as you take in the smell of jasmine.

“You’re already starting to feel warmer,” Zuko notes pleasantly before trading your cup for the bowl of soup. “I should have warned you about that pile of snow sooner.”

“It’s okay, I don’t regret a thing. I had so much fun today, the most I’ve had in a while. I wish you didn’t have to leave tomorrow.”

“Don’t worry,” Zuko assures you as he uses his bending to reheat your tea before it can grow cold, “the day will come where we’ll never have to be apart ever again.”

“I can’t wait,” you confess with a smile only for it to fall at the sudden sneeze that leaves you.

“I think you might be catching a cold, my love,” Zuko notes with a frown.

“Will you stay and keep me warm?” You ask with a pleading look, one that makes it impossible for him to deny your request. How could he say no to your sweet face?

Climbing into bed with you, Zuko envelops himself around your figure and allows you to steal his warmth. He’ll never get tired of being your personal heater, and he’d be happy to spend the rest of his days like this.

You’ll never reacclimatize to the cold, because no matter where you go, Zuko will always be there to bring warmth to your life.

| zuko tags: @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @taeeemin @livelaughlovekuni @lovialy @alexatiu @aerikim246 @heartfully10 @creationcitystreet-em

| fire lilies tags: @emberislandplayers @kikaninchen-2 @music-geek19 @thia-aep @thyunnamed @haylaansmi @nataliahaslosthershit @idkdude776 @aangsupremacy @thirstyforsometea @ihaveaproblem98 @brown-eyed-thang @xapham @chewymoustachio @that-bucket-hat-gal @chilifrylizard2 @kyomihann @kaylove12 @kiwihoee @freggietale @moon-spirit-yue @bubblegum-bee-otch @rinalsword @cipheress-to-k-pop @potato87123

[sea-salted-wolverine]

In honor of the moose/Iditarod rule 34 chaos post reaching 1000 notes and then Dallas Seavy winning the Iditarod here are all the unhinged stories and things I know about that race

They changed the rules and schedules so you can't do this anymore, but there was a subset of mushers who would race the Yukon Quest and the Iditarod back to back. That's a 1000-mile race followed by another 1000-mile race through some of the harshest terrain on earth in late winter. And the Yukon quest doesn't even finish where the Iditarod starts. To do this required putting dogs in a plane OR having another team of dogs waiting in anchorage and someone to deal with both teams of dogs.

The first woman to win the Iditarod was Libby Riddles in 1985.

Only to have her finish promptly blown out of the water by Susan Butcher who won the race in 86', 87', 88', and 90' while setting speed records the whole way.

Susan did race in 85' but she ran into a moose early and it killed two of her dogs and hurt the rest so she scratched. Dallas got lucky this year.

She was also the first person to mush a dog team up to the summit of Denali, the tallest mountain in North America. This is not what dog teams are intended to do, I don't know why she even wanted to, other than to prove it was possible. I don't think anyone has since.

The race now requires GPS trackers on all the racers and you would not believe the bitchfit everyone threw over those. Mushers can either hop between checkpoints or camp on the trail and it may surprise you to learn that these are the kind of people who have secret camp spots in the woods that they don't want anyone to know about. So now, everyone has acquiesced to the tracker requirement but you must have an account on the race website if you want to see them.

The race has 2 paths that alternate even and odd years with different checkpoints but every year includes a section of race that crosses the sea ice, approximately 50 miles from Shaktoolik to Koyuk. so forget landmarks. point the sled north and hope you're going the right way.

the race is in honor of the 1925 Serum Run and the diphtheria outbreak, but the trail itself is the old freight route which is almost twice the length. also, it's a freight route for hauling freight which means the the racers are going at more or less lightspeed as compared to the intended use.

the most effective way to avoid frostbite on your face is a fur hood and duct tape on your cheeks and nose. Cold-related injuries are rare but far from unheard of. The average number of toes and fingertips among mushers is lower than that of the general population.

The finish line is a massive burled arch in the middle of main street in Nome. There is not a lot going on in Nome at any given time and this time of year is the exception. Every racer who finishes the race gets the same reception, which is everyone in town crowding into the finish chute to cheer them on and the city fire siren going off. The last racer in gets the Red Lantern Award which means that they finished dead last but didn't scratch.

the 2020 race had started and was fully underway when the pandemic lockdowns came into place. as far as social distancing goes, you really can't do much better than being isolated 100 miles into the middle of frozen nowhere but the checkpoints are itty bitty villages with no medical infrastructure and the finish was reportedly terrifying because instead of a crowd to cheer at the burled arch, it was just the siren going off in a ghost town.

there is no way I can tell this story that doesn't sound like I'm making it up as I go. The sign says no sniveling and they fucking mean it.

no really, click that link. here's the YouTube vid (non-graphic, after-the-fact interviews)

[tescheer]

TES Cheer 2023 is Happening!

This year, things will be a bit different from the past two years, and you can find rules and more information on our pinned post here.

The event will run from November 26th, 2023 until December 25th, 2023, but there will also be a grace period until January 1st, 2024 as well! We understand that it can be a very busy time of year for many and want anyone who chooses to participate to feel as welcome as possible.

Please remember to @tescheer and tag your posts as #tescheer or #tescheer2023 so we can find you!

The Prompts

Week One: November 26th - December 2nd - Cloak - Snow - Sparkle - Home - Music

Week Two: December 3rd - December 9th - Sled - Gray - Kiss - Party - Mountain

Week Three: December 10th - December 16th - Gift - Lantern - Hat -Snuggle - Night

Week Four: December 17th - December 23rd - Bells - Dance - Fur - Blizzard - Treat

Week Five: December 24th - December 25th - Free Day

[Image ID available by clicking each image]

[anime-aus]

TWISTED WONDERLAND EVENTS THAT I THINK SHOULD HAPPEN

Coral Sea Event: A bunch of characters go to visit the Coral Sea. We learn a lot more about the place. We get to see the mermaid forms of Azul, Jade, and Floyd. We meet the family members at Mrs. Ashengrotto’s restaurant. The characters need to track down a family recipe of hers that has gone missing. I think for the character cards everyone gets a mermaid form! All the characters get to become temporary mermaids with transformation magic!

Royal Sword Academy Competition: There is a “friendly” school vs. school competition between RSA and NRC. There are different categories like athletics, fine arts, and skill competitions. Each dorm competes against the one that is opposite of their own (Pomefiore v. Neige’s Dorm, Heartslabyul v. Chenya’s, Octavinelle v. Rielle’s, etc.) Many new characters are introduced. Will NRC win this competition and is someone trying to sabotage them?

Waterpark Event: Everyone gets a swimsuit. That’s the first thing I desire. Swimsuit cards! Crowley is going to take another vacation and he takes some random winners with as a surprise. Despite the fun they expected to have, everyone keeps running into bad luck (Rook gets sunburnt, Vil got pushed in the pool, Ruggie got his stuff stolen, etc.), but local sunshine Kalim is going to try and make the vacation as fun as possible for everyone with what time they have left.

Shaftlands/Land of Pyroxene Event: Jack and Vil bring Pomefiore and Savannaclaw to their hometown during the winter. The characters meet Jack’s siblings and Vil’s father. Everything is fine at first, but unfortunately Vil reunites with a former classmate. He always antagonized Vil when they were younger. The former classmate challenges Vil to competition and Vil accepts. All the characters try to win in competitions of snow games (ice skating, sledding, building snow forts, etc.) because Vil is determined to win this. Also Vil is about to reclaim his title as the Snowball Fight Master. No mercy!

Lantern Festival: A bunch of characters attend a Lantern Festival that takes place in the Shaftlands. There are a lot of new twist tunes. Songs were ver important to a princess with long beautiful hair because the music would give her magical powers. There is a small fun music competition taking place in the town and the NRC boys choose to compete.

Fashion Week: NRC has been chosen as the place to hold a photo shoot for the Poisoned Apple modeling agency (I wonder which characters could possibly be associated with that). When things start to go wrong the students guess that they either got cursed or somebody is sabotaging them. Now certain students are going to investigate before fashion week is ruined! I was thinking “How could I possibly give everyone cool outfit cards” and this appeared.

(Edit)

Family Day: I’m adding a family day because I want to see more characters’ family. The specific characters I want to see are Vil’s dad, Azul’s mom, the Leech twins’ parents, Kalim’s siblings, Ace’s brother, Deuce’s mom, and Sebek’s parents. That’s a lot now that I’m writing it all out. I’d also think it’d be interesting if we got to see some of the staff’s family as well.

Harvesting Harveston: I would love to see Harveston when it’s actually apple season. I’d especially like to see how Vil and Rook would react to Epel’s hometown.

[alice-angel12x]

Epel x Death Reader Pt. 1.5

Part 1 Here (Harveston event)

While Epel's grandmother was explaining the rules to his friends, he was too busy having his mind blown. Knowing that his closest friend and schoolmate is also his town's founder. He sat on the side as he watched Y/n Death and the mayor have a friendly conversation. The mayor talking about Harveston's long and amazing history. Which Epel now knows that Y/n was there to witness.

"Anyway, long story short, we can't participate in the race this year," The Mayor sighed.

"WHAT IN TARNATION?!" Marja shouted, causing everyone to flinch.

"I know we're going to disappoint the townsfolk, and I'm very sorry about that," The mayor sighed.

"Well, there's nothing you can do about an injury. We'll do our best to place as high as we can," Epel spoke up.

"THAT AIN'T GONNA CUT IT! "As high as you can"?! Ah don't think so! It's first place or nothin', bub!" Marja shouted.

"Our goalpost has just shifted considerably," Jade commented.

"We can't just let a team full o' non-locals win! If the mayor can't do it, then it's up to you boys! No ifs, ands, or buts! Is that clear?!" She scolded.

"But you're being unreasonable, Grandma! I'm the only one on my team who's ever sledded before!" Epel tried to reason.

"QUIT SPLITTIN' HAIRS! Ya can't write off somethin' as impossible before ya even try! You'll never grow an apple tree or get any apples if'n ya don't sow the seeds!" Marja said.

"That's one scary granny," Grimm commented.

"Your animals are sittin' in the assembly hall, so go an' get 'em, toot sweet! Get a move on! You boys ain't got a minute to spare! You'll need all the practice you can get!" She ordered.

She started to train the boys to be #1 in the sled competition. Y/n watched silently as Marja instructed them. Y/n smiles as they remembered Marja as such a competitive little girl. And even after all these years, she did not lose that spark.

____________________________

While the boys practiced, Y/n decided to walk about the town and visit the hollow grounds of the past. Y/n lightly walked on the snow as they passed many graves, slowly passing many generations. Till she got to the very first, where her friend lay, with the rest of the first children of Harveston.

"You did well all of you," Y/n smiled softly at the gravestones around them. "Oh and some students From RSA are also competing."

"What?!" The boys gasped.

"And from what I observed, they are pretty skilled. Make sure to bring your A-Game," Y/n smiles.

"HAAAH?! As if we'd lose to the likes of Royal Sword Academy! THE CHAMPIONS...ARE GONNA BE US!" Epel shouted.

"I cannot wait to see you emerge as champions," Y/n smiled.

Y/n smiles and happily listens to Epel as he showed them around the town. Showing off the apple lanterns and many other hand-crafted knick-knacks.

Till they finally returned to Epel's home, where Marja prepared a large barbeque feast for the boys and company. Y/n tried to politely turn down the meal. But the granny already set a plate for them. So Y/n had no choice but to sit down and partake in the food.

Sadly, if only they knew that Death was incapable of digesting food and does not eat. It was a rough couple of hours for Y/n as they sat as food... essentially just built up in the void of their body.

_____________________________

At Dawn, the race was in full swing, as the crowds watched and cheered from the stands. Y/n Death stood from on top of the spectator booth and simply wished everyone a safe return.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

remember when

They made Cater's phone case into an official merch item???? Or the time when they made a fake irl Magical Wheel for April Fools' Day 2021???? And not to mention that TWST also has released official NRC school uniforms and armbands for cosplay!

The TWST merch team should turn other character-owned items into actual merch 👀 There's so much potential???/ Like... just think about them actually producing Vil's skincare line (from episode 5), a Magic Carpet replica, Rollo's ugly chunky ass ring and handkerchief, the Tweels' earrings, glasses that look just like Trey and Azul's, Heartslabyul tea sets, Rook's photo album, some of Idia's weeb merch, Gao Gao Dragon-kun yes, I know the TWST tamagotchi things exist but I need a real Gao-Gao, ACTUAL TUNA/CAT FOOD IN CANS THAT LOOK LIKE THE ONES GRIM EATS OUT OF... Oooh, and event items too??? The apple lantern from the Harveston sledding event, the tarnished lamp from the Scalding Sands, fake flower bouquets that look like the ones from Ghost Marriage...

SO MUCH UNTAPPED POTENTIAL.

[bumblesimagines]

Under The Moonlight

Part 11

Request: Yes or No

~~~

Novgorod was what he expected and more. A fairly sized city protected by tall stone walls. Surrounding the exterior of the city sat ships on sleds, collecting snow as they waited to be used. (Y/N) noticed the tall buildings peeking out from beyond the walls with domes resting on top. Such an odd shape for a roof. Within the city were many merchants and traders, calling out offers and the services they provided.

(Y/N) stopped briefly, watching two men ride past him on a sled pulled by a bulky horse. Harald chuckled and patted his back before approaching one of the sellers and offering his silver ring in return for three bowls of broth. (Y/N) took the small wooden bowl into his hands and brought it to his face, letting the steam warm his face before he drank and chewed on the chunks of meat floating in the broth. 

"What are they doing?" Leif asked and (Y/N) turned to look at him, following his line of sight toward two men in front of an old wooden building. One of the men sat on the snowy ground, slumped over and looking half-dead. The other man stumbled about before leaning back against the building and sliding down to the ground, head limply going from side to side. 

"Opium," Harald answered, pitifully looking at the men and shaking his head. "They say its smoke enters your body and steals your soul." 

"Why would they do it?"

"To escape this Earth. To talk to the dead." Harald shrugged lightly, finishing his broth and using his sleeve to wipe the snow and remains off his lips. (Y/N) hummed lightly, drinking the last of his broth and turning around at the sound of loud cheering coming from a large perched tent behind them. Harald grinned widely and nodded toward it, eagerly walking forward. The brothers followed him inside and (Y/N) took note of the multiple shirtless sweaty men of varying ages hanging about. Many with bruises. Wooden beams for lanterns and seating areas had been built within the tent. Toward the back of the tent, perched on a wooden stage of sorts, sat a middle-aged man drinking from his goblet. In the middle was an open area where two men connected at the wrist by rope swung at each other, blood dripping down their skin and bruises littering their bodies. Some men walked around the seating areas with bowls, taking coins from the spectators. 

"That's him," Harald whispered to them, motioning to the middle-aged man (Y/N) had noticed minutes prior. Harald walked along the sidelines as the fight ended with one of the men roaring in victory. Before Harald could get to his uncle, two guards stepped in front of him, blocking his path. Frowning at them, Harald scoffed. "Let me by. I'm Prince Harald Sigurdsson. I'm here to see my uncle!" The guards refused to budge, even shoving Harald back when he got too close. 

A gong sounded off and (Y/N) looked back at the middle, noticing two new shirtless men fighting each other. Suddenly, Harald handed Leif his sword and rushed forward, kicking the man holding the other down. The second man scrambled to his feet and stood up, only for Harald to whirl around and punch him. Turning to face his surprised uncle, Harald spoke despite being swarmed by guards, "What this fight needs is a Viking named Prince Harald Sigurdsson of Norway, great-grandson of Harald Finehair and blood relative of the esteemed Yaroslav the Wise!"

"Stop!" Yaroslav ordered, standing from his seat. He stopped and squinted down at Harald, hooking his fingers into the belt around his waist and raising a brow. "Harald?"

Shoving away the guards, Harald panted and greeted him. "Uncle."

"Look at you... What has brought you to Novgorod?" Yaroslav questioned curiously, eyeing the worn clothes on his body. Harald looked far from princely with his long snow-covered beard and messy hair. Unlike his nephew, Yaroslav appeared well-put together. He wore black clothes with gold designs embroidered on them. He had short curly black hair that swooped delicately over his forehead and a neatly trimmed beard. From everything Harald had told them, Yaroslav was a reasonable and hospitable man.

"It's a long story, Uncle. One told better over food and drink." Harald responded and a large smirk spread across Yaroslav's face.

Everything afterward passed by in a blur. They were taken to the finest inn in the city and given rooms where they bathed and changed into fresh clothes before being taken to a brightly lit room. Many colors covered the walls and the fabrics the people wore were eye-catching. (Y/N) supposed when one lived in a barren land, it was only natural to want to stand out. They sat at a long table with other guests, though Harald sat near his uncle. They were served a lot of food and given wine to drink. Harald spoke with his uncle and another man while Leif listened in on their conversation and (Y/N) occupied himself with the food.

"Greenlanders!" Yaroslav called out to them and (Y/N) paused mid-chew, turning his head toward the ruler. Yarslav grinned at them. (Y/N) wondered if everyone related to Harald was so friendly. "They have language at the edge of the world, don't they?"

"Last time I was there," Leif responded as chatter at the table ceased and eyes turned to look at them curiously. (Y/N) swallowed down his food and licked his lips, glancing at Harald. The prince smiled at him encouragingly.

"And tell us, what is it like to live so removed from civilization?" 

"Greenland is quiet," Leif answered again and shrugged lightly. Yaroslav stared at him, slowly nodding as his gaze flickered between the brothers and then to Harald. Not a good enough reply to quench the ruler's curiosity. 

"Quiet, and...?"

"Gives you time to think about things. At night, we would watch the norðurljós. Colors of all the heavens would light up the sky." Leif smiled, looking across the table at his brother, gaze turning fond as he spoke. The woman beside Leif watched him with a warm smile. "We heard stories when we were younger that they were the reflections of the Valkyries' armor. (Y/N)'s mother had a different story, though. When the moon is low, and the sea is sleeping, you can hear the songr of the hvlar swimming at the bottom of the ocean. And then, all at once, they explode from the darkness. Mouths open wide enough to swallow ships." (Y/N) smiled. He could still remember when his mother sat them outside to watch the dancing lights in the sky while she told them the story.

"I hated Greenland when I lived there," Leif confessed with a grimace, gaze falling onto the table. "Now I miss it. I miss the people I knew there." 

"I understand that," Yaroslav said with a hint of longing in his voice. Reaching for his cup, he lifted it in the air and smiled widely. "Welcome to Novgorod, where, unfortunately, quiet does not exist." Laughter scattered across the table and the guests raised their cups in turn. (Y/N) sipped on his wine and returned to his food, finishing his plate, and then hearing Yaroslav raise his voice at Harald.

"I cannot risk upsetting him or his crazy father just so that you can fight for something you never had!" He shouted and Harald looked away from him with a frown, leaning back in his seat as silence fell over the table again. Never taking his green eyes off Harald, Yaroslav continued more calmly. "As I see it, beloved nephew, you have two options: return to Kattegat and swear fealty to Olaf-"

"No."

"-Or do what Vikings have always done. Reivent yourself." His words made Harald's brows furrow but an interest blossomed in his eyes. 

Once Yaroslav finished eating, the dinner was considered finally over and most quests excused themselves to their lodgings. (Y/N) bid his brother goodnight and headed to his own lodgings, looking forward to sleeping in a proper bed that wouldn't make his muscles ache. Pushing open the door and stepping inside, he couldn't bring himself to be surprised when he noticed Harald sitting on the edge of the bed with his arms on his knees. With his gaze on the floor, (Y/N) couldn't get a clear view of his face. (Y/N) closed the door and stepped further into the room, slipping his dagger off his waist and setting it down on a chair before walking closer to Harald. He gently began running his fingers through Harald's soft locks, feeling Harald nuzzle against him and sigh heavily.

"My uncle is well within his rights to refuse me in favor of Canute. He claims the southern river trade route is blocked by a group of brutal nomadics called Pechenegs. Trade is what keeps Novgorod flourishing. He cannot risk going to war with Canute and losing his northern trade." Harald explained quietly, arms slowly slithering around (Y/N). 

"What will you do then? Reinvent yourself?" 

"Yes." Harald tilted his head upward, pressing his chin against (Y/N)'s stomach. Chuckling when (Y/N) gave him a puzzled look, he explained. "I cannot keep expecting others to help me. I need to work for it. I just need to find something that will sell for a good price."

"And what will you do then?"

"I will gather an army and take Norway," Harald answered confidently and (Y/N) hummed softly, tucking a brown strand behind Harald's ear. Harald smiled lovingly, leaning into (Y/N)'s hand and pressing a fluttery kiss to his wrist. (Y/N) shifted slightly, pressing the front of his feet to his ankles and carefully slipping out of his boots. 

"I hope you have a proper plan this time, Harald. We do not need a repeat of Kattegat." (Y/N) murmured, shedding the first layer of clothes and stepping around the bed. Laying down, he moved under the many warm blankets and snuggled into the pillow, watching Harald take his boots off and get comfortable. 

"I know, my love." Harald reached out and tugged him closer, rubbing his hands against the fabric of (Y/N)'s tunic. 

"Harald, we should talk about what I said back in-"

"We've had a long day, love," Harald interrupted quietly, kissing his forehead and pulling him further against his chest. Resting his chin on top of his head, Harald stared forward at the dim lantern keeping the room lit as his mind desperately tried to scrub away the words that made his heart ache. He'd found a love that made him stronger. He couldn't lose that. Not after the betrayals from Canute and his own brother. "Get some rest."

                    ➸        ➸       ➸       ➸       ➸       ➸

Stepping out into the cold, (Y/N) felt a wave of nostalgia wash over him. For a split second, he could see the icy ocean in the distance and hear the roaring wind slipping between the sparse trees near their home. But those visions were replaced by bustling crowds and the sound of chatter. With a sigh, (Y/N) headed down a staircase, easily finding Harald amongst the crowd. He spoke with a man selling all sorts of furs. (Y/N)'s brows furrowed at the sight. 

"Sleep well?" His brother asked as he approached, voice gruff and slightly shakey. His head turned back in the direction of the old building where opium was given, gaze lingering on it for far longer than (Y/N)'s liking. Taking Leif's arm gently, he pulled Leif's attention off the building and onto him but Leif averted his eyes upon seeing the frown on (Y/N)'s face.

"Leif-"

"What is Harald up to?" Leif cleared his throat, tugging his arm free and quickening his pace to greet the prince. (Y/N)'s frown only deepened and he followed after him, eyeing the furs bundled up and scattered across the tables. Harald grinned widely when he spotted them, stepping away from the seller and extending his arms to either side of him.

"I have a new plan!" He declared, slinging his arms around their shoulders and bringing them closer to the tables. "I must fund my own army since Yaroslav will not back one for me. I intend to buy as many furs as possible here and sell them in Constantinople."

"And how do you plan to get there?" Leif questioned, looking at his brother and quirking a brow in question. (Y/N) only shrugged in response.

"I will worry about that detail tomorrow, my friend." Harald chuckled rather sheepishly, tightening his hold on the brothers again and dragging them away from the table and toward the large fighting ring tent. (Y/N) grimaced, hearing an eruption of cheers slip out from the tent. "Today, we must make money doing what we're good at." 

Just like the prior day, the tent had been packed with both spectators and fighters. The fighters all dressed similarly. They wore no armor and carried no weapons. The only article of clothing on them were loose pants, leaving the rest of their body exposed to their opponents. A quick way of painting one's body in purple and green. The next fighter had been the victorious one from the day before. He was a tall dark-skinned man with short dark hair braided back tightly against his skull. When he turned slightly under the lantern light, (Y/N) spotted the scars littering his body. He carried an air of confidence, searching the crowd for any fighter bold enough to step up to the challenge as another man, his partner most likely, stepped forward.

"Who wants to bet against Kaysan, the great African warrior?" His partner called out, cackling when no one stepped forward. Shorter than Kaysan and less muscled, the man had fair skin and big brown eyes filled with arrogance. His hair had been cut short and trimmed even shorter on the sides. He seemed particularly proud of Kaysan, exchanging smirks with him when the other fighters looked away. "No one wants to bet against Kaysan?"

When no fighters stepped up, the man looked toward one of his own, motioning for him to step forward. "Maybe some of you will bet against Kaysan now!"

"I'll bet against both of them!" (Y/N) blinked, head snapping in Harald's direction. The prince stepped forward, turning sideways to point back at Leif. (Y/N) scoffed softly. "Two against two."

"Harald," Leif called quietly, lightly shaking his head and glancing around as the crowd grew louder and tossed their coins into the bowls the collectors carried. 

"Come on," Harald breathed, walking toward them and clapping his hands over Leif's arms. "We need the money."

"You need the money." Leif chided and frowned. 

"We're not gonna fight for the entertainment of these people, Harald." (Y/N) told him, gaze hardening. Harald looked at him, taking in the disappointment on his face. Pursing his lips, Harald nodded and sighed, looking back toward the three men. 

"I have a better idea!" Harald called and approached Kaysan's partner, smirking at him. "If this man accepts my bet of 100 hryvnya, I'll fight against both of his fighters." Harald looked back at the brothers, meeting (Y/N)'s eyes. His lover shook his head at him but Harald ignored it, giving him a small smile instead and looking back at the man. Kaysan chuckled softly under his breath as Harald and his partner shook hands. Harald walked off to get dressed and Kaysan powdered his hands, rubbing them together and walking by the two brothers. 

"Don't worry," He smirked lazily. "I'll try not to kill your brother."

"I can't promise he'll return the favor," Leif murmured and Kaysan chuckled before strolling back toward the center. (Y/N) folded his arms over his chest, feeling every muscle in his body tense. The crowd shouted Kaysan's name and poured more coin into the bowls. If Kaysan had so many fans, it meant he fought pretty often. And won. Harald's carelessness would get him killed, (Y/N) just knew it would.

Harald returned and powdered his hands, looking at the brothers with a confident smile. When the gong sounded off, he reared up his fists and charged first, punching the second fighter in his stomach and then connecting his fist to Kaysan's jaw. Kaysan stumbled back from the hit and Harald turned, swinging at the second fighter who blocked most of his hits. Grabbing the man by the arms, Harald turned and threw him to the ground, causing Kaysan to trip over him. Taking advantage of the moment, Harald kicked Kaysan in the face and stepped back, waiting for the men to get back onto their feet. 

Kaysan stood first, snarling as he swung at Harald. Harald dodged and blocked, landing a hit on Kaysan's side before pressing his forearm to Kaysan's chest and pushing him back against a support beam. Kaysan swung at Harald's stomach and Harald grunted, baring his teeth and punching Kaysan's cheek. He turned in time to see the other fighter close to him and ducked before the punch could land. Harald grabbed the man's leg and tossed himself onto the ground, rolling over and forcing the man to fall back. As he moved to stand, Kaysan charged, kneeing him in the stomach. Harald fell back, grunting softly and quickly moving onto his hands and knees. Kaysan grabbed his long hair and pulled him up onto his feet, grasping the sides of Harald's face and bringing his head down while also bringing his own knee up. (Y/N) grimaced when Kaysan's knee connected to Harald's face. 

Breaking free of Kaysan's grip, Harald dodged the punches thrown by both fighters and caught Kaysan's forearm, tossing his leg up and nearly hitting Kaysan in the groin. He punched Kaysan's face again but before he could turn, the other fighter, wrapped his arms around his waist and heaved him up, tossing him down on the ground. The weight of Harald forced the fighter to fall as well and the two men took big gulps of air as they recovered from the fall. Once orientated again, Harald moved forward and got on top of the fighter but the fighter quickly rolled over, shoving Harald off of him and right next to Kaysan. Harald tried scrambling back but Kaysan loomed over him, large hands reaching for Harald's throat. (Y/N) wrapped his fingers around his necklace and winced, almost looking away when Harald was picked up by the throat and tossed back down on the ground. With that, the gong rang again, signaling the first round was over. Leif reached back, taking the cup of water someone offered him for Harald.

Harald staggered onto his feet, drenched in sweat. His hair stuck to his face and trickled down from his lips. Harald walked toward the brothers, panting heavily and chuckling breathlessly. "See what you're missing?" Harald laughed, taking the cup and drinking.

"You're gonna get yourself killed." (Y/N) muttered, running his thumb back and forth over the bones and listening to the hollers from the crowd. He didn't miss the way one spectator shouted for Harald's death.

Tugging at his own necklace, Harald's grin widened. "I've got my lucky charm." He reminded him, chugging back more of the water and cringing at the taste of metallic. Leif eyed the other two fighters as they drank and gathered themselves again.

"Watch the left of the big one. He's slow to defend." Leif quietly told him and Harald hummed, handing back the cup and taking in a big gulp of air before turning around and walking back toward the center. 

Once the gong sounded off, Kaysan attacked first and Harald dodged his first punch, only for Kaysan to throw another punch at him with his other arm and hit the side of his face. Harald notably staggered more, the exhaustion of the first match beginning to take hold. Luckily, Harald recovered quickly and dodged the next punch, rearing up and repeatedly punching Kaysan in the face before shoving him back to have some space when he backhanded the other fighter. He turned back to Kaysan and attempted to throw another punch but Kaysan blocked it and shot his arm forward, grabbing Harald by the throat again and sneering down at him. The other fighter came up behind Harald, repeating his move of wrapping his arms around him and tossing him to the ground, only this time he landed on Harald. With the man on his back, Harald elbowed his side only to get kicked down by Kaysan. The other fighter moved fully onto Harald's back and slipped his arm around Harald's neck, forcing his face up for Kaysan to kick. But Harald used his weight to push back against the fighter on him, rolling over and causing Kaysan to miss. Before he could land some hits on the smaller fighter, Kaysan kicked his side again, hitting him hard enough to force him away and onto his back. 

As Kaysan approached, Harald threw a punch at his groin and Kaysan instantly leaned over in pain, giving Harald a clear opportunity to punch his square on the nose. Kaysan fell back from the force and Harald rolled onto his belly but before he could get up the other fighter crawled toward him and grabbed his ankle. Harald easily kicked his face and got up, letting the two men gather themselves and stand. The other fighter moved first, stumbling forward with a bleeding nose. Harald wrapped his arm around the man and used it to hold himself up and kick Kaysan in the stomach with both feet. With his arms still around the fighter, he used his weight to turn and slam the man onto the ground. Getting on top of him, Harald punched him again and again until there was a sickening crack and Harald got off the heaving man. 

With his fighters losing, Kaysan's partner looked at his last fighter and motioned for him to get into the fight. (Y/N) glanced toward the man at the gong but he remained still, even as the new fighter grabbed Harald from behind and tossed him toward a support beam. With the fight turning into three vs one, Leif shed his coat as Kaysan got on top of Harald. Harald raised his arms up to block Kaysan's repetitive punches while the new fighter checked on the other man.

"Fuck!" (Y/N) hissed when Leif charged, tackling Kaysan off bloody and bruised Harald. He got a punch in before standing to face the third fighter and grabbing his arms. Leif shoved him back against a support beam, taking the side of his face and slamming it against the beam again. When the man fell to the floor, Leif wrapped his arms around his neck and rolled onto the floor so the man was on top of him. Wrapping his legs around the man's body, he squeezed his forearm around the man's neck, and then seemingly out of instinct, he snapped it. Kaysan and his partner quickly fled the tent, whether out of fear or not wanting to pay, (Y/N) couldn't tell nor force himself to care. Harald scrambled onto his feet and pulled Leif up.

"We won, Leif!" Harald laughed, holding Leif by the shoulders and lightly shaking him. Leif panted, breath going in and out in short bursts. His widened eyes stared down at the dead man at his feet and (Y/N) picked up Leif's coats, approaching them and handing them off. Leif slipped them on and quickly walked away, looking disoriented and panicked.

"(Y/N)-" Harald began, reaching out toward him but (Y/N) ripped his arm away when Harald's fingers grazed it. One would've thought Harald had burned him. Harald's throat tightened when (Y/N) didn't even look back at him as he walked away from him and exited the tent.

(Y/N) caught up to his brother, his heart cracking when Leif flinched. "Come, Leif." (Y/N) whispered, rubbing his hands against Leif's arms and guiding him back toward the inn. Leif's breathing slowly returned to normal but his gaze remained distant. Guilt clouded his eyes. (Y/N) headed toward Leif's room, opening the door and closing it behind them. 

"I... I killed a man." Leif breathed out, slumping down on his bed and burying his face in his hands.

"You saved Harald's life." (Y/N) pointed out softly, taking a seat beside his brother and rubbing circles along his back. But they both knew it hadn't been the act itself that had shaken Leif. It'd been the way he lost control of himself, just like their father did. For a man who spent most of his adulthood hoping to prove he wasn't like his father, flipping the switch so easily meant everything he worked toward was a mere mask. It meant a day would come when he'd fully lose himself to blind rage and bloodlust. 

Inhaling deeply, Leif pulled his hands away from his face and (Y/N) noticed the unshed tears in his eyes. "I did not need to kill him... it-it just happened so quickly-"

"I know, Leif." (Y/N) cooed, wrapping his arms around Leif's shoulders and pulling him close. Placing a hand on the side of Leif's face, (Y/N) kissed the top of his head and murmured soft comforts into his ear. He sat still on the bed, allowing his brother to weep for as long as he wanted. For months, Leif had been swallowing his grief and letting it eat him up inside. (Y/N) waited until Leif grew tired before letting him have a moment alone. 

Stepping out of Leif's room and heading toward his own, (Y/N) heard the distant clap of thunder. When he entered his room, he spotted Harald sitting on one of the chairs and tending to the countless bruises and cuts on his body. Harald gently dabbed at his skin with a piece of wet cloth, wiping away the dust and blood on his body. (Y/N) stared at him. No part of him wanted to help Harald with his injuries. 

"A friend of my uncle's has given us two thousand hryvnya to get him to Constantinople. I've already bought the furs. All we must do now is-"

"Leif killed a man for you... and you're talking about furs?" (Y/N) remained rooted in his spot by the door, watching Harald pause his movements and look up at him. Harald swallowed, squeezing blood and water from the cloth before setting it on the table and standing up. 

"I understand you're upset-"

"Upset? I'm exhausted, Harald. I've been away from home for almost a year, I've been forced into two wars, and my brother isn't well. You... You are so..." (Y/N) pressed his quivering lips together, tearing his eyes away from Harald and shakily exhaling. The disappointment and sadness washed away, becoming muddled with anger and exhaustion. A small chuckle escaped him. "You and your brother are the same, Harald. All you desire is power. You've spent your whole life wanting a throne that was never yours."

Clenching his jaw, Harald spoke, "My great-grandfather was Harald Finehair. My family has sat on the throne for many years. Olaf promised the throne would pass to me and it has been given to a boy instead. The throne belongs to my family, (Y/N). It does not belong to the son of an oathbreaker."

"It belongs to your family, yes. But not you. You were born too late. You never had a claim to it." (Y/N)'s tone turned icy and filled with irritation, teeth grinding together as his eyes shot back to look Harald in the face. The prince stared at him, disbelief settling on his face. "The throne would've been yours long ago if you had a proper claim."

"Not true."

"You think all this has happened for no reason? Canute's betrayal? Olaf's betrayal? Why else would the Gods stop you from sitting the throne? You were never meant to be king, Harald!" (Y/N) snapped abruptly and Harald flinched slightly, lips parting. His eyes flickered between (Y/N), his hands growing clammy and his throat tightened. Harald shook his head repetitively, collecting his shirt and coats. His gaze remained downcast when he walked forward, arm brushing against (Y/N)'s as he walked past him. The door slammed loudly behind him, nearly rattling the walls. (Y/N) felt himself deflate, staggering forward toward his bed and collapsing onto it. Curling into himself, he stared at the fireplace, listening to the fire crackle and the thunder grow closer. Pain and guilt flooded his veins like a wave. But he couldn't deny the trickle of relief.

[guiltyidealist]

The Red Lantern cast stimboard 1/10: Stilton

x x x x x x x x x Banner

I made a bunch of these gifs myself. Please credit if you repost!

[befuddled-calico-whump]

4 and 15 for CERUS

psychological torture + torture room

from this game ///// Penumbra Masterlist

His cart was heavy, almost too heavy for one man to maneuver, but Cerus supposed he should count himself lucky the overseer had given him something with wheels. Of course, he knew it wasn't an act of kindness. He was here to work, and dragging sled after sled full of coal up out of the mines would be excruciatingly slow, even for those who would only watch him struggle under it.

The only thing that kept him placing one foot in front of the other was the fear of slipping up, of having the cart roll backwards and crush him, and not kill him but leave him broken, in the hands of uncaring men until the Healer came round on seventh day.

Cerus was nearing the opening of the mine, the fading daylight and fresh air. The cart wasn't ten yards from the entrance when it suddenly stopped. Frowning, he gave it a shove, but it wouldn't budge. Something must be caught in the wheels, but he didn't dare step out from behind the heavy thing, for fear that it would roll all the way back into the heart of the mountain, giving him no choice but to waste precious strength to retrieve it.

So instead, he knelt, holding the cart in place by leaning a shoulder into it, and squinted into the darkness beneath. Suddenly, the thing jolted backwards, nearly crushing his hand, and Cerus frantically threw his weight against it. Laughter came from somewhere in the darkness, and an oily yellow light began to pool on the walls, soon followed by the silhouette of a man, his face ghoulish in the glow of his lantern.

In the weeks since his arrival, Cerus had made an effort to memorize the names and the faces of the miners he worked alongside. Not out of any misplaced sense of camaraderie, but because he'd quickly learned that some had more reason to hate him than others. And some, he'd had the displeasure of learning, were less hesitant to act on that hatred. Gauguin, a redhead from the plains. Dark eyed Drez. And, towering over him now, standing in the way of his cart and his much-needed rest, Nerros, a craggy-faced blond man with a smile that reminded Cerus of the twisted snarl of a wolf.

He watched in silence as Nerros knelt down, removing something that looked suspiciously like a pickaxe from the tracks. The man leaned against the cart, pushing Cerus back another few inches.

"Hard at work, little shadow?"

Answering pointless questions had never helped him before, and Cerus wasn't about to push his luck. He bowed his head, slowly stood while keeping his weight against the cart, and hoped the other man would vanish.

But of course, Nerros being who he was, he knew the other man wouldn't be deterred by something as simple as silence. When Cerus tried to push against his weight, he only leaned more into it, forcing him to splay his legs to keep himself balanced. A spike of pain shot up his ankle at the shift, and he gripped the edge of the cart so tightly he thought it might break skin to keep a yelp at bay. His hand spasmed, causing him to nearly lose his grip altogether, but he managed to hold on.

"Was talkin' to you, Shadow King. Impolite to ignore your superiors, you know."

Were his magic still intact, the man wouldn't dare speak to him that way. Were he still king, he could send a hoard of undead to tear him to pieces. But here, in the damp of the mine and endless toil of the camp, Cerus had no power.

Not meeting Nerros's eyes, he gave a curt nod. "Nearly done," he said softly.

The other man gave the cart a light shove, pushing it another inch back.

"Nearly done, eh? What makes you think that?"

Cerus kept his eyes downcast. He wanted nothing more than to reach his raggedy excuse for a bed and collapse there, sinking into the reprieve sleep brought until dawn, when he'd be woken with a boot or a shout. Such a small desire, held out of reach by this lowborn vulture.

"It's my tenth load," Cerus said, trying to keep his voice neutral. Too fearful or demure and Nerros would latch on like a parasite; too angry, and the other man would seize onto the opportunity to punish him for defiance. It seemed there was very little Cerus could do that would allow him to avoid misery. "The daily requirement is ten," he continued, but as Nerros leaned forward, he knew it wasn't enough.

"I count nine." 

Cerus saw what was going to happen before the other man moved, but could do nothing to stop it as Nerros suddenly gave the cart a hard shove, too much weight behind the motion for Cerus's frantic countering push to do anything. It was all he could do to scramble out of the way and avoid being crushed under the wheels.

As hours of work went careening back down the sloped trail, Cerus didn't bother to quell the rising feeling of despair.

"How unlucky," Nerros said, heavy boots trudging towards Cerus's sprawled form, not stopping until the toe of one was pressed against his ribcage. Whether it was a promise of pain or a mere threat, he was uncertain.

"You'd better get back to work," the other man continued. "Ten's the requirement, ain't it? Or should I beat you for lying down on the job?"

Wordlessly, Cerus began to struggle to his feet. Not fast enough for Nerros, and the man made his impatience known with a kick in the abdomen, prompting a cry from Cerus and a laugh from his tormentor.

"Better hurry, little shadow." His teeth glinted in the dim light as a grin crossed his face. "Be dark soon."

Then, mercifully, Nerros at last turned away.

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@whumpwillow @rabbitdrabbles @kixngiggles @honeycollectswhump @chiswhumpcorner @whatwhumpcomments , @dont-look-me-in-the-eye , @turn-the-tables-on-them , @pigeonwhumps , @itsmyworld23 , @andromeda-liske , @starlit-hopes-and-dreams , @haro-whumps , @kira-the-whump-enthusiast ,

[sergeifyodorov]

so the iditarod. any fun facts?

the Iditarod Trail as we know it was originally a mail trail. in the far north, dogs have been used as freight runners since precontact times by alaska native peoples like the inupiat (in fact, the name for the "malamute" sled dog breed comes from the name for a group of the inupiat, the malemiut who lived on the seward peninsula.

as a draft animal dogs are, pound for pound, stronger and faster than horses, and in an environment like the alaskan interior a carnivore is much easier to feed than a hay-eating herbivore. they are also much better at navigating the winding, slippery, and often difficult trails -- there are places that snowmachines can't go, to this day, but dogs can. old mail trail runners would have teams of twenty or more dogs, hauling cargo like gold and mail and people through the interior. the town of iditarod itself, although now largely a ghost town, once was larger than anchorage!

the history of the iditarod race starts in the winter of 1925 when nome, a town on the icebound bering sea, suffered a diphtheria outbreak. without serum and with no way to get it there by other means -- icebound, so no boats, and the only pilot who could make the trip was on the other end of the continent -- they organized a trail relay, seven hundred miles long. it took them six days.

fifty years later, with mushing considered a dying sport, they decided to resurrect the iditarod as a race, anchorage to nome, one musher and fourteen dogs. it's about a thousand miles long -- there's two different routes, which alternate every year.

uh list of fun trivia below the cut so i don't make this TOO long

specifying the two routes thing: the routes only diverge at about the halfway point and reconnect at about the three-quarter mark, at the checkpoint right before they hit the bering sea.

trail dogs wear little booties, not because their feet get cold but to protect them from things like fallen branches, and other hazards on the trail. mushers can go through hundreds of booties in a race.

the last musher to complete the iditarod is called the "red lantern," which is a tradition that apparently started as a joke and stuck. you may have heard of musher apayauq reitan, who made history as the first out trans person to run the iditarod? she was the red lantern in 2022!

the current general frontrunners of the iditarod are father and son mitch and dallas seavey. dallas is one of two people to have won the race five times.

four people have won four times, including susan butcher, one of the first women to win.

race times can vary HUGELY depending on year and musher. the records are about eight and a half days, but it's not uncommon for people to take two weeks. libby riddles, who won in 1985, had a winning time of 18 days!

[thegroupofalltime]

I PUT OUR OCS NAME THROUGH AN EMOJI TRANSLATE AND

(these are in order of the phighting list) first up

truth's ocs

Hoe Canada Western Sahara Sniper rifle Japanese ogre Ribbon X Tightly closed eyes

met's ocs

Left right arrow Sled Seismic resistance Dagger knife Dagger knife Wild lanterns

ill post the rest soon

[lovlyrp]

excerpt [2] from my archived TWD rp: "the ones who live" (2021-23)

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 : A chapter after the bridge explosion (S9) where an injured Faith (Rick's adopted daughter) & Rick Grimes are trying to survive the damage. They found a pharmacist, Jared, who tags along only because she needs him to look after her father in really rough shape.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ : For 18+ only. Chapter contains violence, gore, all TWD regulars. [ word count: 7294 ]

➯ note: this was originally an rp where another author wrote Rick's perspective. All credits for those parts go to them and are marked with this symbol "⿻".*

Home. Family. It all seemed so far. Faith didn’t see it the way Rick did. She thought they were gone, that everything was gone. Everything they loved was gone. But he just thought they were lost- that they were going to go home. She tries to remind herself that they’re not dead. That they’re still here and they have somewhere to go. They’re not lost. Not completely.

Jared Epson, the pharmacist they picked up, moves his body as he adjusts his position, making Faith sit up immediately and look at him. He freezes as he hears her movements, pretending to be asleep. “Good.” She says, now standing up and walking over to her designated rock pillow, sitting down on it. “You’re awake.” Jared lifts his head and looks at her, noticing her eyes were teary. She wipes her face with her arm and sighs as she looks around, seemingly safe from anything. The walkers’ bodies were still scattered a bit further away, but that didn’t matter. They were dead. Jared sits up and looks at the terribly injured man strung up on the wood planks. The girl’s father. “Now you can go check on him,” she says, motioning her open knife to Rick, not giving the man a choice but to check on him. She needs to know he's okay.

⿻His ice blue eyes meet Jared's through his glasses, giving him an intimidating and an assertive stare, even though he was weak. He may be frail and unable to walk on his own for now, but he sure as hell had to make it clear that Jared wasn’t leading them and that he wasn’t in charge. Then again, Faith seemed to have already done that. She was the leader. Not Jared. Not Rick. Her. ⿻

Jared stands up and stretches, walking over to the plank sled and crouching down beside the man. He feels his head with his hand, feeling Faith’s eyes burning through his skin as he does a wellness check on her father. “He’s a little hot. Probably a light fever.” He says, sitting on his folded legs as he looks at the closed wound. “It doesn’t look infected.” He says, giving the injured man a small smile as he bears the good news. Faith nods as she listens to the updates, admiring her knife.

“What can we do about the fever?” She asks, looking at the man now. Jared shrugs.

“He needs water. We all do,” he says, looking at the empty water bottle beside him. They used it all last night. She didn’t even think about how dehydrated she was. Her mind had other priorities than her own health.

She looks out at the woods before sighing. “You said you were ‘passing though,’” she says, looking at Jared now. “From where? Is there something there we can use?” She asks, eyeing the tubby man. He scratches his chin and sighs as he thinks about her question.

“I’ve been staying in a van. No gas or anything. Just been sleeping in it.” He says, figuring it had no real use. She nods and looks down at her ankle splint. She thinks for a long time before looking at him again.

“We need to get moving.” She says, standing up and going to her dad, folding her knife away and picking up the belt loop. Jared shakes his head in silent disagreement, picking up his bag and lantern before they go. She shouldn’t put more pressure on her ankle. And where were they even going, anyway?

“Where to?” He asks, his voice a lot less nervous than yesterday. She pulls her dad along the planks, yanking the belt loop. She still wasn’t letting Jared help. She doesn’t answer his question. How could she? She didn’t even know where they were now. She was just walking aimlessly, hoping to find something or somewhere they can stay to heal and go home, like Rick said. ⿻He just laid there with his eyes closed, listening to everything that was going on around them. The sound of the planks dragging against the ground. The gentle wind brushing through the trees. He listened to any signs of other people or walkers. He couldn’t be too careful, even though his eyes weren’t even open. He felt his breath slowing down, but he wasn’t going to let himself go unconscious again. He couldn’t. But he could say goodbye to Carl if he did. No. He couldn’t. He can’t stop fighting.⿻ After a while of walking, she finally answers.

“I don’t know.”

Faith keeps tugging for what felt like hours. She was getting tired already on her ankle and she's thirsty. Her stomach felt so empty that it cramped to move. Jared was sweating completely through his shirt again, struggling to keep his groaning to himself. Be must not be used to walking long distances. Neither was Faith. Not this long anyway. She keeps dragging the planks by the belt loop until she sees something through the trees. It looked like some sort of water tower. Water towers usually mean there’s a town nearby. She keeps pulling with more hope this time, thinking they could find some food or something to keep them stable. Jared noticed it too, reading the town name printed on the water tower out loud, "Blue Ridge.” He starts to move with more energy too, as this was good news.

Faith sighs and looks down at her dad, noticing he was covering his face from the sun. She frowns with worry and guilt, realizing she should’ve taken better care of him so he was comfortable. She leans down and checks his forehead with the back of her hand before running her hand through his short hair. “Sorry,” she says, apologizing for him being here like this.

She looks at Jared and then at the buildings around. She has to check each one. There has to be something they could use. She drags the planks across the street to one side of the strip of buildings, letting go of the belt as she pulls him into the shade. She looks through the dirty window of the building they’re in front of, not able to see anything through the grime. She pulls her knife and looks at Jared. “You stay here with him.” She says, hoping he wouldn’t do anything stupid to make her kill him. She really didn’t want to have to lose a doctor who could help her dad.

“What am I supposed to protect myself with?” He asks, trying to get his hands on a weapon just in case. She scoffs and shakes her head, waving her knife nonchalantly.

“Your head.” She says before leaving, limping along to go into the first brick building.

With her knife in hand, she opens the door. It's a little stiff, but it opens. A walker growls somewhere inside, though it sounds stuck or at least it isn’t coming for her yet. She pushes past the door as it seemed like chairs were pushed up against it, creating a barricade. Pushing through, she scans the room with her eyes. It's dusty, enough to make her cough.

It felt like hours passed in silence since Faith entered the building. Jared looks at the man on the planks who hasn't removed his eyes from the door since she went inside of it. He sighs and fiddles with his stubby fingers. Inside the dark building, Faith carefully treads across the wooden floor, keeping her knife up in a defensive stance. She listens to the walker’s distant groaning, trying to locate it based on where she was. This building seemed to be some sort of sandwich shop. There was a dusty menu above the countertop, one she couldn’t read very well from all the grime. She steps around the counter, now looking through the shelves. There was nothing but moldy display clubhouses and sandwich wraps in here. Faith holds her breath to avoid breathing in the moldy air. She stands in front of two silver double doors that looked like they just pushed open from either side. She peers through the circular windows on the doors, seeing a kitchen. The light was flickering inside, making it hard to see anything without agitating her already throbbing head. She braces herself by taking a deep breath, now slowly pushing through the double doors and peering inside. Rats scurry across the floor underneath the kitchen appliances as she walks in quietly.

Faith walks across the white tiled floors to the boxes along the walls. She peers inside of them, keeping her eyes open for any danger. She uses her knife to cut open the boxes, the blade slicing through the cardboard with a loud, rigid ripping noise. She looks around to make sure it didn’t attract any unwanted company, pausing in silence before reaching her hands into the boxes with her knife in hand, feeling around the bags of what looked like frozen chicken breast now all wet and leaking. She gags and jerks her head away from the box, now swatting her hands through the air to get the wet slimy liquid off her fingers. She wipes it on her pants, moving ahead. This place would definitely not cut it under any supervisor or health inspector.

She moves through the kitchen until she turns a corner, now popping her head around it as she hears the walker’s groaning become louder. It only got more aggressive once its dead eyes saw her lively brown ones. She holds her breath to keep quiet and fearless, now walking to the silver countertops and looking through all the clutter on top of them. The walker was trapped in some sort of wiring and hose by the dishwashing area. She ignores it, considering it to be not a threat while it’s stuck like that, moving around pots and pans as quietly as she can despite their clinking and banging. She keeps glancing up at the walker as it reaches out for her with its disgusting fingernails. In any other case, she would just terminate it now, but she didn’t want to exert any more energy than she had to. She needs it to travel.

She walks next to the walker, making sure to stay a good distance away from it. She moves things around on the counter with her hands, her attention averting to the walker as she hears it stretch some of the wires as it reaches out for her with even more hunger. She looks back down through an emergency plan map, noticing that this place had some sort of basement. There has to be storage down there. Maybe a freezer. Food. That's when she felt the walker’s groan become even more loud as it breaks free from the wiring, stumbling onto her shoulder, it’s hands grabbing her hair.

She yells out in surprise, dropping her knife, and moves her body away from it only to bump into the steel kitchen counter. She winces in pain from how hard she hit her side into it, but that didn’t matter now as the walker was pulling her hair towards its mouth. She looks back at the knife as it skids across the slippery tile floor under another counter across the room. Her eyes meet the walkers as it yanks on her hair, making her groan in sharp pain. Its foot was still connected to the knots of wires, keeping it restrained at some level. She keeps pulling her head away as it yanks on her hair, listening to the chopping down of its rotten teeth on her curls. She struggles, now nervous that she's going to be bit- that she was already bit somehow because of her stupidity to kill it when she initially saw it.

Her hands push against the walker’s forehead and neck, pushing it back with her life. In the same moment, pots and pans knock over the counter onto the floor, stirring a loud clanging and banging noise, throwing her off her game. The rats squeal and run away, scurrying out of the building into the street. Her fingers start to slip through the walker’s flesh, the rotten skin and muscle too loose to hold back with such strength. She yells loudly and shoves the walker down onto the ground as hard as she can, it’s greedy hands pulling her hair down with her body.

“Shit-!” She cries out, falling on the walker’s arm. She looks to her right, seeing a pan handle sticking out. She grabs it and swings the pan onto the walkers head, the sound making a metallic ringing sound along with a wet crunch. Pulls her hair from the walker, watching in pain as it seems to pull some of it from her scalp. She screams in agony and desperation as she’s above the walker now, swinging the pan over and over onto its head. She hammers the walker’s face in until its hands dropped limp and its growling stopped, leaving her only with her heavy breath. She drops the pan to the ground with a clang and reaches her hand to her hair, feeling the tiny bald spot from where the walker pulled her hair. Luckily, it wasn’t anywhere near her stitches to pull them out. “Fuckin' bastard...” she breathes to herself, now walking across the kitchen and retrieving her knife from under the dirty counter.

⿻ Rick’s ocean blue eyes were so focused on the building that his daughter had gone to that he practically forgot to blink. He waited and waited and waited, which felt like forever. His mind went to the worst things that could be happening inside that building. What if she was attacked? His eyes began burning, which eventually made him blink slowly. Then, suddenly, a bunch of rats ran out from that very same building. That only made him more worried. Worried sick, really. Something was going on, something that was even scaring the rats. He had to go see what was going on. He moved his arms so that his hands were against the ground next to the planks and his elbows were bent, after which he tried to push himself up. But he couldn’t. He groaned in pain as his muscles were refusing to flex. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t sit up. He couldn’t help her. ⿻

“Hey- you can’t,” Jared says. ⿻ Rick panted as he eventually gave up, but then turned his head to look at him.

"Go… Go in there,” he ordered him. His voice was weak, but assertive enough to make it clear that he was giving the man an order, one that he shouldn’t refuse. Me? Go in there?? No way, no way in hell. If he couldn’t go see what was going on himself, Jared had to. Someone had to. What if Faith was in trouble and needed help? Jared wasn’t a fighter, but he had to be able to help somehow. He wasn’t going to lose his daughter. He would much rather lose the pharmacist. Jared gulps as he watches the rats run out of the building, now more scared of what was going on inside. He stays still, not moving a muscle. That was until he heard the man aggressively growl at him from the planks, his eyes only more chilling to look at. "Go. Now.” He practically is growling at him through the pain. ⿻

Jared freezes and then gets up, nervously walking to the door, pushing it open gently and peering through as he breaks a nervous sweat. He looks around the dark abandoned sandwich shop, looking around the area until the flickering lights coming from the kitchen doors catch his fearful attention. He breathes shakily as he approaches it now, picking up a broken chair leg off the ground and holding it close to him, ready to swing as if it would do something. He pushes through the door to see a shadow growing larger as the figure walks around the kitchen. He walks towards it with fear trapped in his throat, making him want to cough and desperately clear it. He yelps in fear and holds the chair leg out as a figure walks around the corner. Faith stares at him with surprise at first, but it quickly turned to irritation as she looks at how Jared was standing there with the chair leg pointed at her with both shaky hands with his eyes squeezed shut. How did he even make it this far.

She shakes her head and scoffs before putting her hand on the piece of wood, lowering it down from her face. “I’m not even going to ask...” she grumbles, sighing as she picks up her knife and blows the dust off of it. She turns to where she saw the basement was located on the emergency map, now looking at the door covered in a duvet of dirt. She uses her hand to wipe away the dirt to read the printed words on the door. 'For employee use only.’ She rolls her eyes a little and turns the handle, opening the old creaking door wide. Jared finally opens his eyes as he hears Faith’s voice and realizes there was no danger. He looks at the lock of hair on the floor to his left and the walker’s smashed in head. He wanted to gag.

“D-Did you do that??” He asks, pointing a shaky finger at the walker. Seeing as to she ignores him, he just follows close behind her for safety, peering around her as she opens the basement door. A basement. A dark, wet basement. This is what happened in horrible scary movies.

Faith squints her eyes as she looks down the wooden stairwell, unable to see anything as it's pitch black. She flicks the light switch up and down which, as expected, doesn’t do a thing. She adjusts her grip on her knife before taking slow steps down the stairs. Oh my god, she’s actually going down there, Jared thinks. “I’m- I’m gonna stay here and uh...” he immediately scurries away to watch the kitchen door just in case, his eyes on the smashed in walker even though it was dead. Faith looks around as she walks down the stairs, now holding her hand out behind her at Jared, who once she turned, was not there. She scoffs in annoyance and realizes that she’s just going to have to look around down here in the dark. She could’ve used his lighter or flashlight. But of course, he punked out.

As she walks into the basement, she realizes that the ceiling was leaking, water dripping onto the very shallow water below her cowboy boots. She steps down onto the concrete floor from the last wooden step, her boot splashing quietly into the shallow water. Great. It’s like she couldn’t escape water. The incident: The bridge crumbling beneath their feet and their bodies being thrusted through the rushing current with bits and pieces of the dead... It haunts her. Faith stands still and listens for any growling or movement, not hearing anything but the dripping of droplets from the ceiling to the floor.

She then ventures through the dark wet basement of the sandwich shop. She had no light but the flickering one from the stairway of the open door. She steps through the water, trying to make as little noise as possible. She sees shelves and some sort of big steel door. Must’ve been the freezer. She walks closer to it, now looking through the darkness and feeling around the door with her hand. She could feel that the handle and pulls it, but nothing happened. Again. Locked. She feels around the handle until her fingertip presses along some sort of outline; a keyhole. She looks around the room, trying to search the shelves for anything she could use or even the key if she was so lucky. Her hands feel around the damp wooden shelves, feeling boxes upon boxes. Her hand reaches inside and pulls out a bunch of rotten lettuce. She scrunches her face and puts it back in the box to keep looking. She trips over something in the water, catching herself with her hands and knees as they get wet from the shallow water. She looks around the pitch black area until she turns around, feeling something hard that she tripped on. She picks it up, realizing it was a glass bottle. She looks at it for a while through the darkness until she sees something tiny inside, shaking it to hear it clink against the glass. She brings it all the way to her face to inspect it, now seeing the faint outline of a key.

She turns the bottle over and shakes it, but the bottle hole was smaller than the key itself. How did you get in there..? She decides to get that key out either way, now smashing it on the ground. She reaches into the water, her fingers blindly searching for or the key. She hisses and yanks her hand up out of the water as she cuts her hand on some glass. She holds it with her other hand, feeling the warm liquid leak out of it. Not smart. Dad would’ve warned me not to do that... and the walker earlier. If only he were here. It was all up to her now.

Faith finds the keys with her other hand, picking it up and putting it into the keyhole. She turns it, relieved to see it click open. She pulls the handle back, pulling hard against the big heavy door. A breeze of cold air chills her and her soaking cowboy boots as she opens it. Finally, there was some light in here coming from the fridge. She looks at the ground, noticing a corpse inside of it, its insides missing. It was dead dead. She steps in the fridge, keeping one boot out the door just in case it shuts, not wanting to freeze to death trapped in here. She wonders if that’s what happened to this person. Before they were a walker. She looks at the shelves, seeing a big box full of frozen goods like peas, potatoes, chicken, and even a giant container of water. Frozen, of course. Breathing out in satisfaction, she carries it out the door in her arms.

She rolls the water jug across the wet floor with her foot, the water splashing in its path while she carries the boxes in her arms. She walks up the stairs with the boxes, setting it down and going back down for the frozen water jug. It was very heavy, but at least it's water. She stops every four steps and sets it down before picking it up again; her back straining and her hand stinging. Finally, she makes it up the stairs to Jared who was inspecting the box she brought up. “Thanks for the help.” She pants, stretching her back in pain.

He frowns and carries the box outside, leaving the water for her. She sighs and rolls it out of the room through the double doors and out onto the sidewalk. She looks around the corner to see a walker’s legs. She practically stops breathing as she rushes around the corner, shoving Jared out of the way to see its head smashed in and her dad bloody on the planks. She comes to his side and shakes him a little, afraid for the worst that he was bitten or finally died killing this thing on his own while he was alone out here. She finally starts breathing again as she sees he’s alive. He wasn't going to be for long though if they stayed out here in the open. The dead found their way into the town, and she had to get him into cover.

After setting up camp in the run down daycare, Faith managed to grab what must've been the children's naptime cushions and some sheets to use as blankets. ⿻ Rick was relieved that she came to lay next to him. He moved his arm around her, ignoring the discomfort it brought and focusing on the fact that he was holding his daughter close in a way. His hand rubbing her back weakly, he closed his eyes, listening to the walkers’ faint growling and his daughter’s breathing that was slowing down. It made him feel relieved that she was getting some rest too. He stayed awake himself, even though he was exhausted too from what his body had gone through, making sure that the walkers didn’t manage to come inside the building. It seemed like the barricades and the sheets over the windows did the job, because eventually their growling became more faint as they either gave up or found another prey. ⿻

Jared lays down on the pillow, sighing in relief as he removes his glasses and listens to the walkers eventually mozy away. He turns his head to look at Faith who was cuddling her father. It warmed his heart, but still, he was curious. He says after a while of silence, after Faith was finally asleep- as if he was too scared to say it if she was awake, “She cares about you.”

⿻ "I know,” Rick told the man in a low voice, making sure not to wake up his daughter or attract any more walkers. He didn’t take his eyes off of Jared now that he knew he was still awake too. He studied him from afar, thinking of which of the many questions he wanted to ask him. His mind went to the three questions he always asked people. Maybe he already knew the answers to those questions, but he still had to ask. Looks could be deceiving. "How many… walkers have you k-killed?” He barely even blinked as he studied Jared’s reactions, trying to see any signs of him lying or getting scared of the questions. ⿻

Jared watches the weak man glare at him. His eyes were sharp and intimidating, but still, he tried to be polite. That’s all anyone could do nowadays. To keep some part of humanity alive. He watches Faith sleep next to her father as he replies to his comment, making sure she was in good shape while also thinking about their story. What happened to them and all. He holds his breath for a moment as he was a bit embarrassed to be honest with this man, but he knew he had to be. They had to trust each other.

“One.” He says quietly, clearly nervous at the thought.

He wouldn’t hurt a fly before all of this. And now he had to kill things to survive. He avoided it all costs; that’s why he ran. That’s why he always ran. He then realizes that this man was asking him more questions. They sounded... formal somehow.

⿻ "H-How many people… have you killed?” That was the question Rick really needed him to answer. He needed to know if he was a threat to them. "Why?” ⿻

How many people? Have I killed? How many? As if he would even kill one person. To think that people had a body count was frightening to him. He wonders how many people they’ve killed. Would he be added to it? “Z-Zero! I can’t even imagine...” he says, looking at the floor as he scares himself by thinking about what it’d be like to take another human life. He processes his last question, but it didn’t take long at all. “I want to keep my humanity for as long as I can...” he says, looking at his black leather slip on shoes.

⿻ Rick listened to Jared’s answers without a muscle flinching on his face. The answers were exactly what he had expected to hear. He hadn’t expected him to have killed many walkers at all, since he had ran away from the clearing yesterday. He also hadn’t expected him to have killed people. He wasn’t surprised at all. Now he was just curious how he had survived for so long. He assumed that he had been with those friends he had mentioned, but he still had many questions and he was sure as hell going to ask them. If he were to ever trust Jared, he had to know, and if Jared knew anything about survival, he was going to understand. Rick didn’t stay quiet for very long.

"Those friends of yours… You been with 'em… all this time?” He stared at the man. The assertiveness wasn’t leaving his face, though his voice was slightly softer than when he asked those three questions. "You got… weapons or a… a place you stayed at?” He had to know as much as he could about Jared and the group he had been with. There was still a chance that they were going to come looking for him and they had to be prepared for that, which meant that they had to know what they were up against. ⿻

Jared looks at the man as he addresses him again, seeming to have a lot of good questions. He may be a coward, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew that he had to ask such questions. Trust was in little supply these days. He also realizes now that this man had a southern accent while the girl did not. His friends were really just a small group. Three people. Molly, Jordan, and Rebecca. He missed them. They were good friends before all of this. “Yeah... we uh... we were coworkers. Office job, nothin’ fancy.” He says, shrugging. “I ran my brother’s pharmacy on the side.” He didn’t mind telling all of his personal life. He enjoyed it actually. Especially rambling on. “We were actually on our lunch break when we heard about zombies in the streets. Been together since.” He says, referring to walkers as zombies.

He glances at Faith sleeping before bringing his eyes to the floor for his next question. “I took them to my pharmacy,” he says, probably explaining where he got so much medicine in his backpack. So much that it barely closed with the zipper. “We found weapons along the way but... we mostly just kept moving. Rebecca...” he says, now arching his thick black brows. “The one with lung cancer,” he says quickly so that the man could understand, “She couldn’t move very far without problems so we used the van. Crashed and... I was left in the van by myself...” He says, clearly not even thinking that maybe his friends had left him behind. Or maybe they just figured he was dead. Either way, they weren’t with him now.

⿻ Rick listened to every word that came out of Jared’s mouth. He paid attention to every detail, making sure to memorize all of it. Luckily for him, the man seemed to know how important it was for him to know these things, seeing that he kept telling more and more about his story. Jared seemed harmless. Rick wanted to trust him and a part of him already was, but he wasn’t going to let that get to him yet. He couldn’t afford to trust someone so easily, not when so much of this was up to Faith. If he had been able to walk and fight and all, things would have been different. He couldn’t do anything that could put Faith in danger.

"Have you ever come… across o-others?” he asked next. He had come across many other survivors himself, some of which had become his friends and allies, while others had become enemies. He had to know if Jared had seen others too. Maybe he had enemies of some sort that could come after him or want to hurt him if they crossed paths. He just hoped that if he had come across others that they weren’t anything like the Saviors were. Or the people of Terminus. Or all the bad people he had come across. There were a lot of bad things in this world, but there was good too. He hoped that Jared was one of the good things. ⿻

Jared shakes his head chuckles a little quietly. “Only a few dead folk,” he says, referring to walkers. Or zombies as he so proudly puts it. He rubs his eye tiredly before speaking up, now finding it fair that he could ask some questions now. Especially now that the short little psycho was asleep. He hadn’t dared ask her any questions about their story or lives when she was awake. She had a knife and rude threats on him at every breath.

“Where’s her mother?” He asks, assuming the man’s wife- her mother, was around or perhaps gone now as people usually ended up. He found himself wondering where they came from- not that he hasn’t thought of that, and how they got here. The way they talked about ’home,’ it suggested that they had somewhere stable and safe to go back to. A community perhaps.

⿻ As soon as Rick heard the man ask about Faith’s mother, he frowned slightly. His mind immediately went to Michonne, but then he thought about her real mother. From before. He didn’t know anything about her. They hadn’t really talked about it. He just knew what happened with her real dad. That he abandoned her from the start, and then again after he met him in Atlanta.

"She, uh… She’s waitin’ for us.” He said eventually, talking about Michonne. Her mom.

He wasn’t going to give details about where Michonne was. He wasn’t going to tell Jared about Alexandria. It was too early for that. He stayed quiet for a while, but then decided that it was only fair to let him in to their story a little bit. After all, Jared had told him about his story too. "We got separated from her… There was… an accident. We were escapin’ a herd. Somethin’ happened… and we got lost.” ⿻

There was no growling or groaning from outside with the morning. Maybe the rats stole their attention and chased them away. Hopefully far from here. As Faith folds back the cardboard flaps with her hands, she looks down into the box to see that the bottom of the cardboard was a bit damp. The food, it must’ve defrosted like the water. Her eyes light up in excitement as she picks up a bag of frozen peas and squishes it with her hand. They were soft. Some of the bag was still cold to the touch and frozen, but most of it was ready to be prepared to eat. All they needed was some fire to cook it. Faith looks at Jared, now awake, and then walks over to the barricaded door. She listens for any growling, peeking through the curtains of the windows to see nothing but the deserted street and strip of buildings. Not a walker in sight. “They’re gone.” She says, turning back to the duo with a hopeful smile on her face.

Faith peers back out through the curtains to look down the other way of the street. Nothing there either. She watches the town of Blue Ridge for something to happen, but it was still as if time only passed through here and nothing else. Trash blew down the streets and the sun baked the black, tar pavement of the road. She needs something to cook this food. Her mind immediately went to the sandwich shop she had been in before. She cleared it- there surely wasn’t anything in there that could be of danger to them. The entire kitchen made perfect sense to cook the food with.

⿻ "Faith…” Rick's face is settled in worry. What if she was attacked again? He didn’t want to let her go out, but they had to eat. She turns her head to her dad as he says her name so uneasily. She comes over to him and crouches down in front of him, giving him a reassuring smile to his words. She was especially hopeful today. Things were going their way in terms of survival. "I know you have to go out there, but… Be careful. I mean it.” He gave her a serious look and raised his eyebrows a bit as a way to ask if she understood just how careful he was expecting her to be. ⿻

“I know you do.” She says before leaning in and kissing his cheek sweetly. She touches his shoulder as a way to say goodbye as she stands back up and walks to the other side of the room to the barricaded door. Jared looks at her and gulps. She was going out there.

“I’ll stay here, watch him-" he says quickly. Faith starts moving the tables and chairs out of the way of the door.

“Yeah.” She says dismissively, already assuming that part. She needed to go make sure there wasn’t a threat outside or in the building she was about to bring her father into. She could never be too careful- like he wanted her to be. She had to clear the sandwich deli again.

She opens the door and pushes through it, the door hitting something solid. She peers down to see a walker. Dead. She immediately pulls her knife and looks around cautiously. The walkers that were in front of the door... Someone must’ve taken this one out. As she steps over the body through the small crack of the door, she sees another body. And another. The entire group of ten walkers... they were put down right here. She pushes the door closed with her boot. If someone was around, they couldn’t know about her dad or Jared inside. Why did they take them out? The walkers? They had to have known they were trying to get something or someone inside, so why didn’t the person who did this come after them?

⿻ Inside the building, Rick exhaled deeply and pressed his head against the wall behind him, closing his eyes. He was worried sick for her, but there was nothing he could have done. His mind kept going to the worst; that she was in danger again. What if someone else was in the building she had gone to? What if someone found her? What if there was another walker or another herd? He eventually opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling, avoiding Jared’s round face and his glasses. He didn’t want to talk. He just wanted his daughter back already. ⿻

Faith carefully walks down the sidewalk with her knife in hand. If this person had a gun, it was over. She didn’t have anything long range. She stays close to the wall to have some form of cover. There’s no way someone just decided to take out a small herd for no reason if they were distracted already. They had to be here still. Or close by. She walks into the sandwich shop, pushing the door open carefully with her knife pointed in front of her. Nothing looked different about this place from before. Just as dark and dusty. She walks with cautious footsteps into the kitchen, walking through the double swing doors and peering around the flickering lit room. She turns the corner to see the walker she killed still there, its head smashed in and being eaten by rats. She scrunches her nose, now noticing the lock of her brown coil of hair still on the floor beside it.

As she takes a step towards the basement door, she hears a faint noise. She freezes immediately and listens to the silence, eventually hearing the noise again. Water splashing. Someone is here. In the basement. They don’t know she is. She breathes quietly, her breath starting to get a bit heavier from the intensity of her anxiety. They don't know. She could get the jump on them. Wait for them to come up. Or... She looks down the pitch black abyss the wooden steps descended into. She could still hear the occasional splashing around. She slowly brings her hand to the handle... before closing it as quietly as she can. There was no light down there anymore besides from the freezer she had taken food from. As the door clicks into place... she turns the lock. She listens as the water stops splashing.

It felt like an eternity of silence since the water stopped. That’s when she heard a creak coming from behind the door. Whoever was down there... they had stepped onto the bottom step of the wooden staircase. The flickering lights in the kitchen only made her more nervous. Her brown eyes were wide and she practically tried to hold her breath against the rapid beating of her heart. The creaking continued, the noise of footsteps getting louder as they ascend up the steps. She watches the door and the door handle with anticipation. She watches as the door handle turns, but doesn’t open. It was locked. She hears the breathing of someone directly behind the door. She backs up, her palm bouncing her knife handle in her hand anxiously. The door handle continued to twist with no effect.

“Hey!” A voice shouts from behind the door. Her breathing practically stopped. There was a person in the basement- behind this door.

Silence.

She then hears the door start to bang, rattling against the doorframe and the handle turning over and over. She thought she had swallowed her tongue as she jumps back, her back knocking into the steel countertop behind her, knocking metal utensils to the ground.

“Hey!!” The voice shouts again, now certain that someone was there- that someone locked them in the basement. “HEY! LET ME OUT!!”

Faith breathes heavily, her heart beating out of her chest. She felt frozen. She watches as the door rattles and bangs, the loud noises making her afraid. It brought her back to when she had shot the gun by her ear, when the bridge exploded, when all she saw was red and the river water. Her wild eyes drop to the bottom of the door as she eyes the shadow coming from behind it. Then she watches in horror as blood starts to spill from out from under it. It crawls its way to her boots.

She moves out of the way immediately as the voices started to speak to her through the door. Murderer. You failed us. You gutted me like an animal. You killed me for you. You didn’t have to do it. You sliced that girl’s face until she was unrecognizable. You tried to kill my girl. You got that woman shot in the face. My insides spilled all over you and you didn’t even flinch! She squeezes her eyes shut and grabs a metal shelf from beside her, now shoving it against the door with all her might to keep the red away. To keep the voices trapped. To lock away Negan's men- Jackson’s voice forever. The voice behind the door- she could only hear it as Negan’s and Jackson’s now.

“LET ME OUT!! LET ME OUT RIGHT NOW!!! YOU SICK FUCK!!” She looks back down to the bottom of the door, the blood gone. It was never there. She was sweating. She turns on her heels as she listens to the person behind the door bang against it and turn the handle desperately. She runs away, runs at top speed until she pushes through the front door, her hands on her knees as she breathes hard. She just locked someone in a dark, wet basement. She just locked them down there without any food- she had scavenged it all. She locked them down there in the dark and she didn’t even hesitate.

Thanks for reading this very long chapter. Let me know if you'd like to see more from different seasons/episodes or if you want part 2 of this chapter!

[tescheer]

Hello all!

TESCheer is back for its third year and this time, to make things a little less overwhelming, we're changing it up quite a bit! The last two years, we had 25 prompts, one for each day of December leading up until Christmas Day. It was decided upon between the two mods of this event to switch it up for ease and convenience!

So what's changed? This year, instead of starting on December 1st and ending on the 25th (or Christmas Day), we've decided to start the Sunday following the US holiday of Thanksgiving, or November 26th. Rather than doing 25 daily prompts, the prompt list has been narrowed down to just 20 and sorted into weeks. Each week will have five prompts to choose from and it's up to you which ones you want to do and how many, too! The exception is the final week of this, week five, which isn't actually a full week, but the days of December 24th & 25th, or Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. Rather than prompts, it's considered a "free day" for you to come up with whatever you want!

The point of this event is to bring some holiday cheer to the TES fandom, be it through writing, art, screenshots, gifs, edits, mood boards, you name it! If you're creating something that fits one of the prompts, feel free to share it in the tag, #tescheer. We look forward to seeing what everyone has to share this year!

Rules:

As this is an event for the Elder Scrolls fandom, please keep your submissions mostly relevant to the Elder Scrolls universe.

AUs and crossovers involving Elder Scrolls characters or the Elder Scrolls universe are welcome, but please make sure it is TES-oriented. Additionally, we ask that you tag these submissions as "alternate universe" or "crossover."

You are under no obligation to participate in every week, nor do every prompt for a singular week. If you only feel like participating in a prompt or two that catches your eye, we're still happy to have you! You are more than welcome to pick and choose as you please.

Combining prompts is welcome and encouraged! We just ask that you tag appropriately for organization reasons.

Tag your post with the corresponding week/prompt (ex, if the prompt you're using is from week two, tag it as "week two: [prompt]").

Ping this blog (@tescheer) and tag your submission as #tescheer or #tescheer2023 so we can find you!

NSFW is welcome but please tag accordingly and use a read more break for any NSFW content (mobile users can use a read more by typing ": readmore :" without the spaces and quotations, then hitting enter).

Please use a read more for longer writing submissions, too. 5-6 paragraphs without is fine, but beyond that, use your best judgement.

Keep your submissions cheerful! The whole point of this event is to bring cheer to the fandom and it's hard to do that if entries are extremely dark and depressing. This is by no means saying darker themes can't be explored and are forbidden, but please ensure some good comes of it for your characters!

No harmful content. This should go without saying, but for clarity's sake, no racism, homo/transphobia, sexism (this includes misogyny AND misandry), ableism, rape/abuse apology, incest, NSFW content involving minor/underage characters, or otherwise hateful, bigoted, or toxic content allowed. Understand that the decision to include this rule in no way reflects the personal views of the mods, but was tailored with the best interests of the event in mind in order to keep it safe, fun, and cheerful for yourself, the mods, and everyone else!

Be considerate, polite, and respectful toward each other. It's easier to just ignore something you don't like than to make a stink about it.

The Prompts

Week One: November 26th - December 2nd - Cloak - Snow - Sparkle - Home - Music

Week Two: December 3rd - December 9th - Sled - Gray - Kiss - Party - Mountain

Week Three: December 10th - December 16th - Gift - Lantern - Hat -Snuggle - Night

Week Four: December 17th - December 23rd - Bells - Dance - Fur - Blizzard - Treat

Week Five: December 24th - December 25th - Free Day

Questions Answered:

Do I have to celebrate holidays to participate? Absolutely not! The point of the event is to bring cheer to tesblr, and that's doable even if you don't celebrate holidays! The timing of the event is simply because the mods themselves do love the holiday season, but don't expect everyone else to feel the same way. If you want to stick to a festive, holiday theme, feel free! If it's not your speed, that's okay too!

Who are the mods? The mods are @elfinismsarts, who created and operated this event during its first run in 2021, and @friend-of-giants, who took over for its second run in 2022!

Can I submit a post late? You sure can! However, we will stop checking the tag and responding to pings as of January 1st, 2024. So if you really want your submission to be seen, try to get it posted and tagged before then. We understand that for most people, the holidays are a busy time of year, so we will try to give you as much wiggle room as possible.

When does the event start and when does it end? It starts Sunday, Novemeber 26th, 2023 and ends on Monday, December 25th, 2023. The extension period for late submissions will close on Monday, January 1st, 2024.

Does my submission have to be festive or wintry? Nope! As long as it's relevant to the chosen week/prompt and remains within the rules, you can submit whatever you want. While some prompts are a little on the nose, they are all completely up to your interpretation.

My question wasn't here! That's okay! Our ask box is open to any other questions you may have!