#thalas thinks about it too much I think

[abyss-hydra-archived]

That post started as a vague post, but, fortunately, it changed into just a thoughts.

More in the tags.

[shiftersroom]

hi thala! 💞 so sorry if you don’t accept this kind of asks but i just feel like i need to vent and your vlog is always reassuring and comforting.

currently i’m in this situation where i just want to get out of this cr and permashift to my dr asap, but it seems like i can’t stop self sabotaging myself and i’m so so tired of it. last night i was crying my heart out because of how bad i felt about it. i’ve been practicing meditation so i can enter the void and even though it seems like i learned to keep my mind awake and body sleep i haven’t been able to get past that and it’s so frustrating. i know there’s tons of methods and also everyone says i don’t even need one but i idk why i have this idea that i need some method to detach from my cr really printed on my mind. for the self sabotaging part, i can’t help but have trust issues regarding myself and the community, sometimes it’s my intrusive thoughts making me doubt about shifting being real/posible and other’s successful experiences (saying it must have been a lucid dream or they are just making it up and i really HATE and feel guilty to discredit their experiences in that way 😭) and other times my belief in shifting is unwavering but i don’t feel capable of it. i'm not even the kind of person who has ever had any “closer attempts” or mini shifts and has been really hard for me to find what works best for me, meditation is by far what i’ve been trying the most but i’m just so impatient that sometimes i can’t help but feel that i’m going nowhere. my mind is really so stubborn when it comes to trying to change negative thoughts.

sorry for all of this, i don’t have shifting friends or someone i can share this stuff with. i don’t usually tend to feel this way but last night i just kinda collapsed, it crossed my mind that maybe i'm wasting my time and that i should just give up but i don’t want to, if this shii is real i need to experience it no matter what. i want to be with the ones i love and live the life i want. i don’t want to stay here any longer. i want to try loa along with shifting but then again, my intrusive thoughts say that i’ll be just gaslighting myself and all that.

i know no one else can fix these problems for me, but i’m so scared of failure or just being delusional for believing in all of this. sorry again for the long vent, i needed to get this off my chest. love you and your blog so much thala. if you don’t really want to accept this because honestly is like a long ass and probably demotivating ramble it’s totally okay, but thank you for taking the time if you do. hope you keep being happy and having success with everything you do. 😭🫶🏻

hello 💕 please feel free to vent, i don’t mind.

i completely understand your level of frustration, i badly want to permashift too and i have little breakdowns every few months once it catches up to me that nothing has fully worked yet.

the void can take a long time to perfect. i mean monks spend decades learning to meditate! why don’t you try something other than meditation? if you’ve given it a good go and it hasn’t worked, it’s probably not the method for you. i recommend a short break before trying a new method. rn i’m writing an affirmation 100 times a day. but honestly if that doesn’t work i’m straight up gonna lay there and visualize for 8 hours every night. i’m getting out of here no matter what.

try asking yourself what you think will work for you - sometimes we know the answer but we need to sit down and think about it. for example i keep doing affirmations, or short visualizations. but i feel what will make me shift is just laying there and telling myself to stfu and visualize until i’m there, even if it takes hours.

as for the self sabotage, i cope with that by watching my favorite creators and realizing that no one in their right mind would upload years of unpaid content that most people would ridicule us for, all for it to be a lie or joke. especially older shifters. and the other thing i like to do is remind myself that if i shifted and came back, no matter how ridiculous the experience was it’d still be real - so even if you don’t believe someone bc it sounds outlandish, it can still be real.

i’m also scared of being delusional but i simply cannot and will not remain here. there is no other option for me, so i’ll persist forever. the first time i shifted i had no idea id shift. that keeps me motivated, i could feel awful and still wake up in my dr tomorrow.

forever posting this reddit post by someone who shifted after 5 years, this was my fave comment of theirs:

and that motivates me even more - even if it’s fake i’m gonna make it real.

i also struggle with trying to change negative thoughts and my mindset, i’m in my mid 20s this stuff is harder to believe in at this age, and my mind has been tainted by years of bad experiences. but as hard as it is i’m forcing myself to get over it and try everything, bc i just need to shift once and all my bad experiences will be over.

i’m sorry if i gave you a big rant in return haha, but i hope this helps!! 💕 i’m so happy you like my blog and thanks for your sweet words 🥹

[triangle-strategy-notes]

Gustadolph, Thalas, and Erika Concept Art

Concept/reference art for Gustadolph, Erika, and Thalas! Translation notes and image id under the cut.

Translation notes:

"Will you kindly keep your illegitmate hands off of me?!" was probably more directly translated like, "You're a bastard, stop existing in my vicinity." But it was a question and also used some polite language, so I changed the wording around a little to suit that.

"Hair tufts, eyes, and lips are all in the same place" was one I felt pretty uncertain about and ended up going a lot off of context. It definitely seemed to be saying something about hair, and was probably saying something about lips and eyes, but there might have been something about eyebrows or something else in there too.

"Wham" was a mimetic word that meant something more like "violent; holding nothing back."

Image ID:

[id: The first two out of the five images are the full Japanese pages of concept art for Gustadolph, Thalas, and Erika. The first page has their official canon portraits. In the third image, which is a translation of the notes on the first, there is an illustrator's note that reads, "Gustadolph is a beautiful yet terrifying man with long, silver hair. Personally, I find that his design puts me at ease since he has more of a restrained royal look instead of the typical stylish villain look. (Tatsuaki Urushihara)" and another illustrator's note that reads, "I remember thinking the three Aesfrost siblings were spot on from the first rough draft. Erika has a cat-like quality to her. (Yasuaki Arai)"

The fourth and fifth image are translations of the second page. The top half of the page is titled "Commander of Country B" and has several images of Gustadolph. One has a caption pointing to his ruff collar that says, "bird feathers." Another two notes next to his face read, "He's beautiful but rather cold…" and "He's overflowing with dangerous charisma." The second half of the page has pictures of Thalas and Erika. It's titled "Commander of Country B's Younger Sister and Brother". There is a drawing of Erika having thrown Frederica to the floor. Erika's dialogue reads, "Will you kindly get your illegitimate hands off of me?!" and there is a note next to Frederica that reads, "Liberty gets hit and falls down." In another drawing Thalas is holding a sword, both he and the sword spattered with blood. His dialogue reads, "I suppose even the lowly masses have some red blood in their veins…" There is a note between the two of them that reads, "The character sheet said they were an unlikely duo, but since I had already done 'Consortium Merchants' and 'C1 and C2 House Heads,' I decided to draw them as twins." Another note between mirroring portraits of Thalas and Erika's reads, "Hair tufts, eyes, and lips are all in the same place." There are also some small copies of the word "whisper" between them. There is an illustrator's note at the bottom that reads, "Erika and Thalas's setting and plotline never changed much, and even in the trial version they had a nice, simple bully feel to them that made them easy to design. (Tatsuaki Urushihara)" /end id]

[crystalelemental]

Demo for Triangle Strategy complete. Did both options for the split path.

Story-wise, things were slow to pick up, and I wouldn't exactly say that they've gotten better in that regard, but there's at least a slight hook. Granted, because I read the notes and such, but it counts.

I'll start with the less exciting path. Hyzante feels kinda bland to me. It's really, really transparent what's going on and generally what their deal is. "All are equal under the goddess, do not ask about the slave class in the salt mines." Their equality is completely fabricated, unsurprisingly, and the chapter's battle is going to do all in its power to really hammer in that this is not a good place. Though its means of doing so is, admittedly, super fucking funny to me. Yeah, this rogue researcher stole documents and is running off with them because he wants to be in control of his own research. Like...my dude. We know the names of famous physicians in this center. Fame and notoriety and your name attached to your work is still a thing. The only reason for you to do this is because you want royalties along with it. The ice mage talks about a more reasonable aspect - being told what to research rather than having creative freedom in your pursuits - but that's not what the battle is about. Hyzante, as a result, just feels kinda middling to me as a route. I have very little interest beyond its ties to Frederica's people.

Aesfrost, by comparison, is kinda neat. They want to push the notion of meritocracy, where everyone is free to do what brings them fulfillment. Except for the part where they're poor, and this absolute freedom means corruption at the highest levels as soldiers are in on illicit salt trades. But like. At least the group there feel like people. Hyzante feels very stale, in part because no one there exudes any kind of personality beyond worship and all that. Aesfrost is a colorful group, with Dragan being super ambitious, Thalas being a little snot, Erica seeming like she's the smarter of those siblings but not in a position to act, that one guy you meet on the way in who seems super chill with Roland, and even the head of the nation who has an introduction that...kinda sums up my feelings on the general presentation.

During your interaction with him, he asks what you think of this joint mining venture. This is like the third time someone asked me this, and my response has been consistent: "it's a good venture that will benefit everyone equally." And he's the first to kinda push back on that, replying "So you think just because the spoils are equally shared, that will bring peace? Since when have men ever sought to be equal to their peers?" And that's such a great introduction to this guy. What a great way to showcase exactly how this guy things, and where his values are as someone who believes fully in this meritocracy and its necessity.

But they keep this going into Serenoa asking what he means, and getting the line "I can't stand people who would impose equality on others." And it feels like it shifts into a very heavy-handed presentation.

Which was the major issue with Hyzante too, and kinda what I'm setting up to expect with this. Hyzante was super on the nose, going really far out of its way to push how much everything is a lie, and make sure there's an understanding that despite outward statements of equality, there's a clear slave class and ruling class, and absolutely no potential for upward mobility. Aesfrost is a little more dynamic, but that line about imposing equality feels like it's very strongly making sure you know this guy isn't just ambitious and all about competition, he feels like any intervention for equality is a net negative, and sometimes there are just losers cast into the dregs. It's not like...embarrassingly over-done, but give how long these intro chapters go for story-wise, it's the kind of thing that could've been parsed down.

Now, the flip side of this is that, with the supplemental bits, you actually get a great picture of why things are like this, and it's really interesting background that is keeping me engaged with what's going on. The book in question talks about the peace agreement following the Saltiron War, and how nations fared. Glenbrook is apparently a big name, and has access to a lot of general resources that keeps them in a strong position. Hyzante has access to salt, which is a necessity for life, and has always lived luxuriously as a result. Aesfrost, by comparison, has iron, which isn't as essential, and exists in a harsher climate with less to offer than Glenbook.

The book really only mentions that trade was hard for Aesfrost, and that during the war, their already small population suffered the most casualties. What you can pick up between the lines is that this goes back way before the war, where their position was always pretty bad, and likely part of the catalyst for war was their demands for better opportunity. Hyzante, as a nation all about rigid class structure and hegemony of power to their ruling class whether it admits it or not, has an invested interest in keeping the rival nation under the control of their salt distribution. Given the comment on losses during the war, it sounds like Aesfrost was poised to lose, and had the war carried on, they likely would've been in an even worse position as Hyzante could make more forceful demands as the victor. But the peace that exists isn't exactly beneficial for them either, they're the clear loser even in the peace accord, and the main takeaway you're given is that the people of Aesfrost as largely in poverty.

It takes some supplemental material to get a bit of this, but I think overall it's painting an interesting landscape with a lot of questions about the world. I'm enjoying it and plan to keep going. Apparently the nearest GameStop to me (like half an hour away) has one in stock, so I'm hoping to pick it up tomorrow when I get Unicorn Overlord. Unicorn Overlord comes first, I really liked that one, but I'd like to get both if I can.

[megarywrites]

(from @flowerprose) Happy STS!

From your WIP - can you share a line or passage that you’ve been musing about lately? Why is it so significant to you?

What writing advice do you implement often? What writing advice have you not found particularly useful for you and your craft?

thanks for the ask @flowerprose! sorry it took me an age and a half lol

the passage that I'm gonna talk about it something that I was thinking about today. It actually has to do with Solera and her family and their whole backstory, the explanation of which spans several chapters (both books, low-key, tho there isn't much of it shown in book one) now, I can't talk too much about it, because it is pretty spoiler-y, but I will share this little bit (some stuff redacted for spoilers and to shorten it)

"I know I should have gone after her. Fought for her so that he wouldn't take her. But how many more of us would have been lost? He still would have won, and what would have been the reason?" My stirring slowed, and I gulped, the words that I know I shouldn't say perched on the tip of my tongue. "Geros was right about you." Her head snapped up, her eyes boring into mine. "You are frightened of him." Rage was simmering behind her eyes, in the tense way she was holding herself as she gripped the table she sat behind. But I hadn't said my piece quite yet. "I understand why. He's a terrible man who's done...unspeakable things for years. [...] I'm scared, too, of what he's capable of. But, [...] we know what it is he does. We know his reign won't end when he's dead. Isotrei will live on, unless it's defeated, and isn't that what [redacted] is all about? Putting an end to all of this?"

I feel like it's self-explanatory, but this part is at the heart of the call to action for the character she's speaking to and it's why Thala has gone to her in the first place. Because she knows that she needs her help to get the revenge and closure that she needs.

as for writing advice: my personal favorite (which I've been struggling with implementing personally lately but the past two days have been good) is Terry Pratchett's (I think) advice to keep your daily word count goal low and manageable so that it's easy to achieve and 1) if it's a good writing day, odds are you'll keep going after you hit it but 2) if it's a bad writing day, once you hit it, you've reached your goal and you can stop. My personal word count goal is 200 per day because I work full time at a job and in an industry I'm long since burnt out in (lol) and am usually exhausted by the time I get home.

and for writing advice that I don't use, I can't really remember any at the moment? I'm sure there's some tho lol

[randomnameless]

Who do you think is the most misunderstood character in TS?

Most misunderstood means I have the right characterisation in my pocket, which I can't claim I have, even if some things seen on Reddit are really close to the "August 2019" takes about FE16.

But instead of tackling the Behemoth that is Roland, or even Frederica...

Let's talk about the catalyst, Dragan himself.

Guy is presented as this overtly ambitious man, who is used by his older cousin as an excuse to start the war, because older cousin is an ass who always planned to get rid of him, and the younger cousin laughs at his misfortune.

Dragan was also deeply beloved by his father, Svarog, and looked fondly upon by Frederica, his other cousin.

Tragic Dragan? Yes, without a doubt.

However, Dragan, for all of his wishes to "let the young people reform the world" instead of being shackled by old things/people... drowns in his ambition and in Aesfrost's "might makes right" mindset.

When he discovers the salt in the mine, Dragan's first reaction is NOT to contact and tell his Father what he discovered, or share it with the world - nope, Dragan wishes to use this intel to further his own ambition and take Thalas's spot, becoming Aesfrost's Number 2.

However, he makes the grave mistake of threatening Gustadolv, something that, well, you shouldn't do if you value your life.

Worst (?), to "negotiate" with Gustadolv, instead of, just, telling him "hey I found salt here, what if we start pissing on Hyzante because their monopoly is whack" - something that would have, assuredly, made him Chancellor, especially if he said "By the way don't kill me, I am the only one who knows where to dig/how to dig to find those crystals", he would have won his game - he became confrontational - challenging Gustadolv and even, daring to suggest he could betray his very own country, Aesfrost, to Glenbrook. Whether he would have done it or not, Dragan was potentially a traitor to his own country, ready to "sell" it, or at least not give Aesfrost the ultimate ressource on Norzelia, to gain a place in the "nobility" he so deeply desired.

Because Aesfrost's muhritocracy favors the strong, and the strong needs to crush people to show how strong he is - by challenging Gustadolv, instead of just, working with him, Dragan tried to show how "strong" he was...

Too bad he picked Gustadolv.

Dragan's threats only served to lampshade how dangerous he could become - but as dangerous as a mole, ready to do anything to become "strong", pretty much like Silvio who can also betray his country and Lords to sit with the winners - and, just like Silvio, how weak and unprepared he was.

To make those threats against Gustadolv, Dragan needed an army, needed something that would have made him "unkillable" or at least force Gustadolv to negotiate with him. In a way, Dragan followed his country's values "the strong wins" but forgot that following values, in Aesfrost, is worthless, if you do not have the power to back it up.

Might makes Right : Dragan tried to show his Might, and was crushed.

In the end, he can have the last laugh in the Liberty Ending, since his "friendship" with Serenor gave him the book and all the intel needed to use the salt - hijacking Gustadolv's plan to rule over Norzelia (well about that...)

But Dragan didn't want to laugh, he wanted to live and take Thalas's place, so it's not a win for him, he completely and utterly lost.

In the end is Dragan just a loser?

I don't think so. I think he genuinely wanted to help people and ultimately Norzelia, but he is very ambitious. Unlike Silvio, who we see plotting and counterplotting and doing Silvio things, Dragan's only show of shadiness and Liberty (as in Gustadolv's Liberty) to be free to do whatever you want... involved possibly betraying his country, family and people.

Would he have done it? IDK. The sheer fact he even thought about doing it - and wrote it to his cousin - is enough to tell me, though, that Dragan was truly Aesfrostian to the core, and embrassed Gustadolv's values.

Even if it led him to his death.

Which is, BTW, why I really love Aesfrost in this game, because TS finds subtle ways here and there to inform the player that, no, Gustadolv's mentality and Aesfrost really suck, and are destroying the country and its people too.

However, all this subtility went to Aesfrost, when Hyzante was hit with the general "religion BaD Idore BaD Hyzante BaD" which is very striking.

For one Sycras telling goodbye to his family because in True Aesfrostian fashion he buys Gustadolv's propaganda and will fight against people who aren't trying to kill him nor kill the people - we don't have any random hyzantese thanking Layla for her "shiny purple rock", and how, idk, it managed to save their old grandma or their kid, nope.

But that's a topic for another post lol.

[alynnl]

Up to Chapter X (Triangle Strategy)

Spoilers below, as always!

I am up to Chapter X.  Why does it feel like every vote since the one to give up Roland has been a choice between a Bad Decision and an Equally Bad Decision?

I really wasn’t sure about doing the smuggling or reporting Sorsley to Hyzante but I chose the first option because I felt like we could learn something about Aesfrost and/or Sorsley’s objectives?

I know it did lead me into a fight with those two bandits from early game and they did not play around.  I was down to four members of my team before I beat Trish and the healer that kept restoring her HP.  Not a fun time/map for sure.  I was probably overconfident thinking the bandits would be easy.

(Roland, why are you so weak sauce even though I tried catching you up?)

After that...

We run into Svarog (Dragan’s father) and he’s asking us, really pointedly who murdered his son.

Is there a revenge plot on the horizon?  I believe so.

Let’s just hope this guy doesn’t lead us into another Lord Landroi situation where he completely misunderstands Serenoa and company and I’m forced to fight him (I don’t think Frederica would like fighting her uncle very much.)

If this leads me down a path where I can take out Gustadolph, Erika and Thalas I’m all for a means to an end...

Believe me I have wanted payback ever since Chapter IV.

Now since I am on the internet avoiding spoilers is impossible but I have avoided most.

Without giving away too much...

“How close am I to finishing whatever path I’m on?”

“I heard there are bad endings.  How easy is it go get one?”

I haven’t exactly decided the most honorable course of action (putting survival > honor) so... I might get a bad ending?  I don’t know.

In the beginning of this game I didn’t think I would get attached to these characters.  I now love all of them.  I think pain is on the horizon...

That is all.

[writerfae]

Happy World Building Wednesday!

What's the general world history of your world? How does mythology say it was created versus how was it actually created?

And tell us about Maya’s backstory!

from @bloodlessheirbyjacques (:

Hi @bloodlessheirbyjacques! And thank you ^^ I apologize for the late reply, I was so tired yesterday I forgot to answer this after work 😅

My world has a history of creation! And since it’s a fantasy story and the gods mentioned really exist, the lines between myth and truth are blurred.

In the beginning, there were two ancestral forces: light and shadow. They were more of an essence rather than gods, but they had a consciousness. They stood for all things contradictory and they could only co-exist.

The first things born from this ensemble of light and shadow were the three great goddesses, Ghriana, Thala and Gheala. They created the two worlds out of light and shadow, what makes the two forces the matter of what all life is made of (fun side fact: that’s why fae believe nothing and no one can be fully good or bad, we are made of both after all).

The first world is home of mortals and the second is home of all things magical. Now why there are two worlds is something people aren’t quite sure about. They’re just there. And pretty much like light and shadow they co-exist. One can’t exist without the other - even when nowadays the worlds barely interact (it used to be different).

There is however a legend, an ancient rumor if you will, that long before the fae the gods created an other folk that used to life in the magical world but fell from grace. There are many stories about this folk and what happened to them, one of them being that while their leaders were punished by being turned into what we now call forest demons, the rest of them were banished into a second, magic-less world and that’s why there are two worlds now. (That would btw make humans the descendants of those fallen people.) But that is just a legend (is it true? even I don’t know).

Anyway, the great goddesses created the two worlds, made land and sea, forests and mountains, plants and trees, animals and all kinds of creatures, some magical and some not.

Other deities were born, minor gods and nature spirits that came into existence as the worlds started to form. The six mighty trees were born like that - the trees that keep everything in balance.

They were the six original trees, the very first trees in the magical realm (and creators of the fair fae). I probably have to say that the fae in my world are divided in two folks: the wild and the fair fae. Unlike the fair fae, it is not clear how exactly the wild fae were created, but they are older than the fair folk.

As for humanity, it’s about as old as the wild fae, created by the great goddesses as well, but there were times in world history where they disappeared almost completely and came back at one point.

After their creation, the worlds went through two or three significant changes that I haven’t really thought out, major events that happened under the influence of light and shadow and changed the course of the worlds.

So you see, myth and actual story of creation are pretty much the same here. At least from the fae’s perspective. I like to think that though my creation story is really mythical, the scientific aspect of how the world was made is still there. Light and shadow for example are sort of a metaphor for matter and antimatter, at least in my head…

As for Maya’s backstory, I’ll make a separate post some time this week if you don’t mind, because I think otherwise this ask would get too long 🙈 I’ll gladly tag you when I make the post though (if you want that is), so you get a proper answer to your question 😌

[morganlegaye]

[ SPOILER ] “Diel Fin’al Thalas” - Chapter 16

Sylvanas’ mouth, like the rest of her, was always cool before the heat of Jaina’s body warmed her, and the mage enjoyed feeling the slow rise of the woman’s temperature as they kissed, languid and slow. It lasted long enough that Sylvanas seemed unwilling to hold herself over her anymore and came down on her forearm as she gently lay her body atop her wife’s, their legs tangling together. It was then that Jaina realized she was getting caught up when she had actually had a purpose for bringing Sylvanas to her, and when she broke the kiss she kept her hand on the woman’s cheek, encouraging her not to go anywhere.

“Sorry… you are just a good kisser,” she breathed in apology, feeling a little foolish. Her mind must still be fuzzy from the orgasm, otherwise she would have been much more careful about treading certain lines of intimacy.

But it seemed Sylvanas either did not think what they had been doing was intimate, or was so self-assured that it would not change how she felt even if they straddled strange lines sometimes. As such, Jaina knew better than to read into it when the banshee looked down on her, her fingers brushing an errant strand of hair from Jaina’s forehead as she responded in a tone that was uncharacteristically soft. “…You do not have to apologize.”

Jaina inhaled, a strange feeling inhabiting her gut that she once again blamed on her post-orgasm haze. “That was doing something for you. Before,” she noted, voice equally as soft as she looked up at the woman above her with an expression that requested honesty. Sylvanas hesitated for a moment, but eventually she nodded, and Jaina reached up to run a comforting hand down the length of the woman’s arm. “You should finish.”

Sylvanas softly snorted, averting her gaze. “You will not be able to walk tomorrow if I finish.”

“I can’t even begin to explain to you how far down on my list of concerns that is. Sylvanas—” Jaina implored, her hand finding the back of the other woman’s neck again as she encouraged Sylvanas to catch her gaze. That tightness in the base of her abdomen worsened, but Jaina ignored her body’s ridiculous and unwarranted reactions as she requested, “Finish. Please. I am tired of it always being about me, and I think you are too.”

"Diel Fin’al Thalas” - Chapter 16 will be released Saturday, June 12th.

[galaxyedging]

Always

Din starts to realise how much the reader is willing to do for him and how much he is willing do for her.

Work Text:

"You have to be what?!" The baskar covered Mandalorian next to you practically choked. When Din heard that there might be some Jedi left in old settlement in the mountains nearby, you wasted no time getting here.

"Naked." The old woman stated simply. "The people there are one with nature. They live in their natural state. It promotes openness, honesty and a connect with the universe."

"Connection with the universe? Sounds very Jedi to me." you commented quietly to Din.

"I know...but.." his voice was higher than you've ever heard.

You had to hide your amusement. You had a chance to have a little fun with the clearly uncomfortable bounty hunter. After spending months chasing leads you were definitely ready to have some fun at his expense.

"So you have to be naked to go there?" you asked. The old lady nodded.

"And be naked the entire time?" you continued. Even with the visor you could feel Din glaring at you. You ignored him. "So do you have to make the trek up the mountain naked too?" you could feel how tense Din was next to you. The woman chuckled "No dear, you can just disrobe outside."

"Ok, can you let them know we're coming?" she nodded at your request.

Raising from the table you bowed slightly at her and headed for the door. You ignored the fact that Din hadn't moved.

Once you were outside he practically fell over himself to catch up to you. "Are you crazy?!" He called after you. You turned to face him, keeping your face neutral.

"What?" you shrugged.

"What?! I can't go in there. You know that!" he rambled.

"She said naked. Maybe they'll let you keep your helmet on...if you show everything else." you made a show of raking your eyes down his body. Din was used to your good natured banter by now. This time it seemed like he was too far gone to recognize your teasing.

He started to speak several times but never quite got there. You decided to take pity on him before his head exploded.

"We just need info, right? So it's not like YOU have to go in."

The agitation fell away from him, he regained his composure and tilted his head at you. "You'd go in? For me?"

Your heart leapt into your throat. You would. At this point there was not much you wouldn't do for him, or the kid. As much as you didn't want Din to know how you felt you couldn't help but feel excited at the thought of him recognizing you were willing to do anything to help him. As much as you wanted to protect you heart, you wanted his praise, his attention.

"Not for you." you began walking. He fell in beside you. "For the villagers."

He chuckled "Really?"

"Yeah. I mean you told me the oath is to keep your face covered."

He hmmmmed suspiciously.

"Obviously, I get the whole armour thing while out on bounties but you never take it off. So my theory is you're covering something up."

Another chuckle, they were becoming more of a common occurrence lately, you were grateful of that. "Really? So what am I covering up?"

"Really bad tattoos." you answer.

This time he laughed loudly. It instantly became your mission in life to make him make that sound again. You realized you were now staring at him. Snapping out of you replied "Yep. I think you went to Canton Bight after a big bounty. Won a load of credits. Got wasted on Spotchka and got covered in really bad, ugly, boarderline offensive tattoos."

You burst out laughing this time. When you both composed yourself you walked the rest of the way in comfortable silence. When got to the outside of the settlement. Another old woman opened the door. "We were expecting you. You are welcome but you must leave take your clothes off here. Any weapons must also remain." Din started to object at that point but you held you hand up to silence him. "I will give you a moment to prepare." she concluded closing the gate.

You started handing your things to Din. "No weapons?" he asked concerned.

"They're a peaceful settlement. Besides, I am a weapon."

Having seen you fight he couldn't argue with that. You weren't as disciplined as him but you were still highly trained. The wild streak in you actually made you better in a fight. Sometimes.

"Mando?" you caught his attention. While he'd been worrying about your safety you were almost down to your underwear. "Oh, sorry." you wondered if he was blushing from the tone in his voice. He quickly turned away from you. Taking off the rest of your clothes, placing them in your bag, you passed it to Din over his shoulder. "Ready." you told him. He didn't answer, the air was heavy between you. "Y/N?" he finally spoke up. "Yes?" you answered from behind him. "You were half right."

You stared at the back of his helmet expectantly. "I do have a huge tattoo. It covers my back and down my legs."

"Wha..." you started in confusion.

"It's not a bad one though. A Wookie riding a Thala-Siren, while it leaves a trail of milk, is a solid choice that I stand by." You laughed, slapping him on the shoulder "Idiot!". He caught your hand before you pulled it away. "Be careful." He gave your hand a squeeze before letting go. You turned back to the gate. "Am ready to come in now." The gate opened and you started inside. "You'll be here for me, right?" You called back to Din. "Yes." he answered. He waited until the gates had shut completely before adding "Always."

Copied from my AO3 account, Casskane.

[writing-in-april]

A Tale of Two Poe’s

Poe Dameron x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary: AU where Poe Dameron and Edgar Allan Poe both exist in the Star Wars universe. Reader finds a book containing the writings of Edgar Allan Poe and just can’t wait to show her Poe.

A/N: This is a purely self indulgent fic lmao 😂 this AU idea where Poe Dameron and Edgar Allan Poe exist in the same universe came into my head a while back and I just had to write it. Idk if it’s weird or not but I enjoyed writing it lmao- also obviously credit goes to Edgar Allan Poe for all his stories and poem excerpts I use. @writefightandflightclub and @sergeantkane are definitely my go to for Poe fics if you’re curious and they always inspire me to write more for Poe but- there are so many other amazing writers for Poe too. I’ll have to make a fic rec list for him soon. This also is my second fic for my 1000 follower celebration!!! I want to thank you all so much again, this is so surreal!! Thanks for reading and requests are open!!

Warnings: Uhh- a sexual innuendo & talk of death in the war I think that’s it...

Main Masterlist Word count: 2.2k

The amount of bookstores that were left in the galaxy was such a small and minuscule number, most people just used their data pads to read, that is if they read anything at all. It was such a shame, in your opinion. No data pad could truly recreate the magic of a physical book.There was nothing better than opening a book, new or old, the parchment smell wafting around under your nose as you fully enveloped yourself in the words on the page.

You had stopped in at the old library after you had completed a routine information pick up for the resistance. The planet you were on was the beautiful Naboo and you had a couple hours to kill before your partner, Poe came with his x-wing to pick you up. The little vintage book store stood out in the ethereal metropolis of the big city, and you were instantly drawn to it.

When you entered the little shop it was filled wall to wall with books, you had never seen so many books in your life before. Personally, you only had three that you kept on top of your small dresser that you put the small amount of clothes in. They weren’t interesting books to say the least, mostly consisting of military procedurals from your early days in the academy, besides one novel written on a planet far away called Earth named “A tale of two cities”. The book shop made you want to take all of them back to base and read every leisure novel you could ever want to read. However, there was no real time and you didn’t have the money to take all the books home with you, so you settled on picking one that really grabbed your attention.

The book that caught your eye was a black hard cover, so thick because of how many pages it held that you could barely hold it in one hand. The spine said “The complete collection of stories and poems by Edgar Allan Poe” and just by flipping through it a little you gathered that it must have also been written on the planet Earth, just like your one other novel. You loved the other novel and you knew that you were definitely going to bring this book home, even if you didn’t enjoy it at least you could tease Poe about the shared name. But, you had a feeling you were going to enjoy it.

You opened the book to another random page written by the person who held a similar name to your man and landed on a page that had a poem by the name of Annabel Lee. Poems were not something that were often seen in the galaxy anymore, even on the data pads that everyone used. They had fallen into obscurity as a form of literature that was obsolete and pointless.

The poem instantly had you hooked just in the first few lines, it was definitely a sad poem, as you suspected the rest were as well. But, the beautiful well written rhymes seduced you like the sirens you had heard about from Ahch-To. Though, Rey had told you the Thala-sirens were not nearly as beautiful as the myths would have you believe. Realizing that you were getting tight on time you rushed to check out the book, you didn’t want to worry Poe. Once you had paid the kind older lady who ran the shop you ran quickly out to your rendezvous point where Poe was already anxiously waiting.

“Kriff- there you are, I was worried something had happened to you.” His eyes were a bit frantic looking and hair disheveled. he had undoubtedly been looking around for you in worry while running his hands through his hair and had been pacing. Poe needed to learn to relax every once and awhile, he was often an overworrier and was often overworked.

“I’m only a few minutes late, relax. I just had to pick up a little surprise for you.”

“A surprise? What is it?” He reached to grab the parcel that the book had been wrapped in by the owner of the shop. You swiftly pulled the package away from him, you wanted it to be a surprise for later, when you both could relax.

“Hands off- I’ll show you later, be patient.” His indignant sigh only caused you to roll your eyes while you both climbed into the x-wing, with you sitting on Poe’s lap. He was so dramatic sometimes. Maybe, someday you’d get to come back to the bookshop on Naboo to get some more books, with hopefully Poe in tow next time.

—-

When we got back to base you were vibrating with excitement in anticipation of showing Poe the book that had an author with the same name as him. Throughout the entire briefing with Leia she could probably tell that my mind was in a far off place, almost like you still had my head stuck in the book. When she’d finally dismissed you after you had gone through the mission debriefing I bolted to our shared quarters. Once you had gone in the fresher for a quick wash and got dressed for the night you hopped in your small bed that you shared with Poe, but not before grabbing the new book you had added to your collection.

“Come to bed, I’ve got something for you.” You said as soon as Poe got through the door. He always had to check in with the main mechanic that worked on his x-wing right after he came home on a mission, it was the only way he would ever let anyone touch black one.

“Oh? Is it that surprise you were talking about earlier?” His signature cheeky smile that he flashed you while he stripped off his flight suit let you know immediately what he assumed the surprise was.

You threw his pillow he used at him, then accosted him playfully,“It’s not what you think it is you horndog, I’ve got a book for you.”

“A book? You know I don't know how to read.” You wished that you had a third pillow to throw at him in that moment, but you didn’t want to lose your own pillow. There had been many times in your relationship where Poe had stolen your pillow to mess with you and you weren’t about to give him the upper hand.

“Shut it, I’ll read it to you, you big baby.” He was now dressed in your favorite ensemble besides his flight suit, a white tank top, boxers, and nothing else.Patting the bed right next to you, you finally got him to come over to you. He sank down next to you on the bed, making sure to immediately cuddle up into you, you then spoke again,“But, before I do I want you to see what the Author’s name was.”

Handing him over the hardcover he looked at the name on the spine with furrowed brows, then letting out a breath of laughter once he read the Author’s last name. He didn’t read often like he had joked earlier, but he definitely could read the big gold leaf cursive letters that said, Edgar Allan Poe. “Woah, that’s cool. He would’ve been cooler if he had Poe for his first name though.” In response to another cheeky comment from him I bonked him on the head with the book before I started to read, “It was many and many a year ago,   In a kingdom by the sea, That a maiden there lived whom you may know   By the name of Annabel Lee; And this maiden she lived with no other thought   Than to love and be loved by me. I was a child and she was a child,   In this kingdom by the sea, But we loved with a love that was more than love—   I and my Annabel Lee— With a love that the wingèd seraphs of Heaven   Coveted her and me. And this was the reason that, long ago,   In this kingdom by the sea, A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling   My beautiful Annabel Lee; So that her highborn kinsmen came   And bore her away from me, To shut her up in a sepulchre   In this kingdom by the sea.” As you lilted your voice through the poem you could feel Poe sinking down further into relaxation, which was good since he hardly ever relaxed. He was always on the move all the time because of his vast responsibilities as a commander in the resistance. To be honest, you could do with some more relaxation like this in your life, just you, Poe, and a charging BB-8. You must have paused for a second with your reading because Poe looked up at your with his deep caf colored eyes in question, prompting you to continue, “The angels, not half so happy in Heaven,   Went envying her and me— Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know,   In this kingdom by the sea) That the wind came out of the cloud by night,   Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee. But our love it was stronger by far than the love   Of those who were older than we—   Of many far wiser than we— And neither the angels in Heaven above   Nor the demons down under the sea Can ever dissever my soul from the soul   Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams   Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes   Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side   Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride,   In her sepulchre there by the sea—   In her tomb by the sounding sea.  — why are you crying?”

A few small tears had welled up in the corners of Poe’s eyes with one spilling over to run down his scruff covered cheeks. He sniffled a bit, wiping away the tears before speaking, “Just reminded me of you and how much I love you. I don’t like thinking about you dying, I don’t think I could survive.”

Your heart broke a little, but also felt filled with the feeling of love. You knew there were even more dark times ahead in the war, you had both even had a conversation of what would happen if one of you passed. You even had letters that were to be read by the other if something were to happen. Even though you had discussed this before, you agreed with Poe, you never wanted to think about what the galaxy would be like without him.

“I’m not going anywhere.” You ran your fingers through his hair in an attempt to smooth him a bit. You felt a little bad that you had not realized how much it might affect Poe, so you decided to shift the subject to something that hit less close to home, “I’ll read something a bit different. They’re all dark, but I’ll pick one that you’ll enjoy more.”

You then began to read the Cask of Amontillado, which was a story that you both could relate to personally less which meant you could both fully enjoy the story.

“You were right, I liked that one.” He took the book from your hands to inspect the black book further, “How old is this book?”

“I don’t know, probably pretty old. I’ll have to take extra good care of it.”

“Yeah, just as long as that doesn’t become your favorite Poe in your life.” Poe’s signature cheeky grin was back on his face, then tilting his head up to nuzzle his nose with yours.

“Ok, Edgar.” A wide cheeky smile was now on your face, proud of your ‘clever’ new nickname for Poe.

“No no no that nickname better not stick.”

“But- your hair looks so similar to his! Look at all those dark messy curls! I’m keeping the nickname.” You flipped to one of the earlier pages of the book that had a short biography at the front about the author with a print of a portrait of the author. His expression soured once he looked at the portrait, realizing that his curls did in fact, look like the Author’s. He let out a fake disgruntled sigh that did a horrible job of hiding his underlying happiness and flopped down back on the bed to cuddle up with you for the night.

The entire resistance was confused why you had started calling Poe, Edgar whenever you wanted to tease him. But, you guys kept the secret of the tale of two Poe’s, the only people who knew the origins of the nickname were you and your Poe. The nickname definitely wasn’t going anywhere.

—-

Tag list (message me if you want to be added)

All works: @shotarosleftpinky​ @oreogutz​

Poe Dameron/SW:

[the-house-of-the-nine]

In Mind of Misery: Reflections, Part 1

[Forward:  Since the end of “In Depths Below” the Nine have been busy trying to reclaim Lazarius’ family fortune, rebuilding, and forging new allies.  We are current in the WoW Timeline with this entry, NZoth has risen, the world is in chaos, and now, the Council of Nine are at a disadvantage.  New Readers, please note each of the roleplayers as the following...

[ L.K ] - Lazarius Kashebahl,  Algus Kross, Doctor Whistletorque, Marseille

[ V.D ]  Verzatea Duskflame , Pame

[ S.K ] Siida-Ray Kashebahl

[ K.A ] Koltun Ancientveil

[ J ] Jursol (AND JIMBA!)

And as always, thank you so much for continued support, posting, reblogs, likes and friendly messages!  Please enjoy! ]

[ L.K ]  The Bastille.  Several months had passed since the botched bank heist on the goblin city of Undermine.  Despite its success in freeing the capital of the families estate, Lazarius had cost himself several good captains within his order, as well as potentially risking so much more.

Though it did seem like it would have been a catastrophic end to the organization, with the help of Siida and Marseille; the Kashebahl estate was reinstated back into Quel’thalas and the Magistrate.  The family earned its titles and lands back; but also received compensation from the Horde and now Alliance for the loss of Tirisfal.  Because of what Sylvanis had done; they were given a large sum of funding to compensate for the loss of their estate.

Siida was fully in charge of the running of the house; because for now Lazarius was busy in Stormwind.  Also the fact that she was a surviving victim of Dawnseeker and his plan; the fact that she was a strong independent woman, not to mention an eligible heiress, she was the perfect choice to be the face of the legitimacy of their house.

When the public learned of what the rogue Magister had done, as well as how she survived, she was brandished a hero for her efforts.  It was a true rags to riches story and the public devoured it up.

That particular evening; the quiet organization had grown smaller.  Many who were still devoted to Nzoth and sought to join the old one in its madness had left.  The operation of Azerite that was being mined in Silithus was all but shut down with the end of the war, thusly Krazzlowe had begun moving most of those workers to his own mine and abandoned the order, goblins after all were known for looking out for themselves.  

The little green scum bag had been filtering out resources to fund his own works for some time, and they knew.  Another loose end.   But, he had no idea what was actually coming, and the truth that lay in the sands at this very moment.  What had already transpired there which remained a mystery even until now.

Lazarius sat at the massive drafting table in the library with his eyes tracing over the losses and names of those who had been sent away.  Their several thousand strong; now dwindled to a mere handful of hundreds.  He’d already sent agents to deal with stragglers and deserters; and Marseille had filled his quota for blood lust in quelling the possible dangers.

Kross was tending to books within the library; cleaning up possible students work and things that were no longer being used.  And Lazarius pressed his fingers against his eyes while thinking. What plagued him? What was it that drew on his mind?  Perhaps the resurgence of Nzoth was causing him pain.

[ J ] Jursol was walking the halls of the Bastille as she used her tail to amuse Jimba, who had grown since they arrived. Her scaled clawed hands curled around a book that seemed to have her attention. Lots had gone on over this time. She like others had grown over time. Learning all she could from her time with her new friends.

Nearing the library she spotted the elf who seemed deep in thought. Closing the book in her hands as she smiled approaching him.

“Ya seem ta be lost in thought. I know dat look of being plagued by ya own mind.”  She glanced at Kross as Jimba ran over to him for attention.

“Perhaps speaking about what be troubling you be helpful, hmm? Ole Jursol is a good listener.”

[ S.K ]  Siida had grown so quickly in what felt like such a short period of time. Protecting her family's name and getting it reinstated had possessed her waking moments and now that it was complete she finally found time to rest.

Being the face of House Kash'ebahl was tiring, but it was a task she'd been born for. Her gentle smile and kind demeanor made her easy to trust and people often seemed charmed by her. The Matron at the moment found herself wandering, unable to sleep as her mind seemed full to the point of bursting.

[ L.K ]  Lazarius gazed upward when the sound of the trolls feet padded across the room and she spoke.  Jursol knew his condition well; his sunken black eyes were heavy as he peered toward her.

“My dear Jursol...”. He reached his withered mummified hand toward her; void wrappings covering his badly mangled flesh.

If she’d taken his hand; he would pay it the respect of his forehead pressed against it; a gentle kiss against the top of her scales and his other hand patting it, to hold her three fingered hand.

“It always eases my mind to have you near...”

Lazarius sensed Siida nearby and peered back at Kross.  The old steward vanishing from his games with the raptor to tend to Siida. Such an unspoken way they had with one another.

Lazarius glanced back at Jursol. “The tides are calling Jursol.  The eyes of the black empire... it is the moment id hoped to avoid...NZoth is reborn...and now..”.

He sighed and shook his head. “I...have a fear that I understand my purpose now...why my Mistress chose me...”

Kross had moved into the halls and appeared beside Siida; walking through the shadows and into being.  

“Miss Kashebahl.  Your brother is in the library.  It is good to have you home for a bit.  Please come for a moment to see him.”

[ S.K ]   "Good evening Kross....of course, I'd planned on taking some time and it seems fate answered before me."

Siida smoothed a hand through her hair and moved towards the library, knowing the way better than most people, likely able to find it with her eyes closed if she tried hard enough.

As she entered the library she kept her steps soft, not wanting to create too much noise in the temple that she cherished.

[ J ]  Jursol gently took his hand in hers as she glanced at it sighing softly. She could tell it was in bad condition, but it was not due to reasons she fully understood. The void she knew some about, but as much as others. She listened to him as he spoke. Nodding some as she spoke softly.

“Ya know I nevea ask why you be chosen by her. What ya purpose is in da end. Felt it be better ta let you discuss it when ya be ready.”

Jursol knew full well that the Old God was back. This meant they all had a part to play in the upcoming events of the world. What part she would play, she could only guess.

Hearing Siida nearing in the halls caused her ears to twitch. A smile forming on her lips. She seemed to find Siida interesting, as she did others of The Nine. One day she hoped to speak to the others more to get to know them better.

[ L.K. ]  Lazarius has brought his attention full circle when his youngest sister entered the room.  Another soft pat would be offered to Jursols hand as he calmly released her.

“Though it is not my intention to keep anything from you all...it seems the truth of my origin is even more mysterious than I had wagered.”

Lazarius made a motion toward Siida as she entered. “Flower.” he said as warmly as he could, despite the pain in his voice that lingered.  

The golden haired vision was the light that brought him back.  She was his world.  With Vari and Koltun both dealing with Silithus, Lazarius leaned desperately on his younger sister for that bond of affection.

 “You are a sight for these tired eyes...join us please.”. He smiled and motioned her over.

[ S.K ]  "I could never refuse an invitation. Jursol, it is always lovely to see you." Siida offered a polite bow and moved towards her brothers side and gave him a gentle touch.

"Hello Lazarius, it is nice to see you again." Siida did everything she could to make things easier for him, so that he didn't worry. She felt the weight of her responsibilities, but see Lazarius made them all feather light.

[ L.K ] “These halls are quiet.  So much more quiet than before.  Our dominance in the sun seems to be waning...losing numbers as we did was a difficult blow. ..” Lazarius nodded into her touch; however it was given.

“Those who abandon us in our greatest hour do not deserve such sympathy Master.”. The voice of the ever present shade appeared in full form.  

Marseille stood beside Siida.  The withered ancient elf had been running ragged between helping deal with the loose ends and staying by the young sisters side at all times in Silvermoon.  He also looked exhausted but would not show it as he hid it well behind his cloth mask.

[ S.K ] "We have dealt with much, taking time to mend and repair is not weakness. We will regain our numbers for the times that are coming."

Siida looked to Marseille and offered him the faintest of smiles, that small touch of puppy love was still there, but she knew there was a time and place for everything. Her duties were to her family first and foremost, her hearts wants and desires could wait.

[ J ]  Jursol nodded in agreement with Siida. She knew others were out there, hiding, laying in wait till it was time to come forward to offer their help. For now was the time to plan, heal, prepare for what lays ahead.

“Ya sister be right. We can not be rushing into anything before it be time. Be prepared for times ahead, mentally and physically. Ya be lucky to have so many who be caring for ya. Don’t be taking it for granted my friend.”

[ L.K ]  “I never take anything for granted.  Not now...not since.”. He trailed off and shook his head.  

They would all remember the loss of nearly being crushed beneath the Magisters.  Lazarius gave them both a glance as he moved his fingers toward his tunic.  He wore a loose fitting black shirt which was slowly being untucked at the waist.

“...we do not have the luxury of time I am afraid...” Lazarius stood before the group of them, his shirt rolled up and showing off his abdomen.  

He turned to the side and allowed them the most horrible sight of his wounds and lashings of his youth.  But in the center of his rib cage on the side of his body was the tattoo.  One that he always assumed was for his mistress and her madness.  It was an eye, massive in size with its lids drawn closed.

“It is seeking...”. He whispered softly, and in that same voice the eye would open and reveal to them a very bloodshot and corrupted looking eye which darted around looking in all directions.  The folds of his flesh that served as the lid would blink open and closer as Lazarius held it available for them to see.

“Even in death Raelyndia continues to curse me...I had no idea what she’d done with this mark until now...why she always kept me close...like I was her crown jewel...” He sighed and shook his head. “I suspect it was her way of knowing Nzoth returns...”

[ S.K ] Siida had seen such horrid things since coming to this house, since aligning herself to the Nine, but this, it gave her pause. Her poor brother had been through so much and even the past had it's hooks dug so deeply into his flesh that he never seemed able to escape.

Sitting down  she looked at the eye before lifting her gaze to Lazarius.

"With Nzoth's return...the balance of the scales are going to topple even further...how...what are we going to do?"

Siida was very much accepting of her role as Matron, she would protect her family and those still loyal to the Nine. "The old ones...endless hunger and limitless reach..." She seemed to say that last part to herself, her lips stuck together in a thin line.

[ J ]  Jursol scanned the mans broke body as she frowned. Such pain she saw on his body. As he lifts the shirt more, her eyes rest on the tattoo. Her eyes grew wide as she peered closer at it. Ever the curious troll she was. As she reached to try and touch it, she saw it open. This caused her to leap back from him.

“Dis be bad juju.”

Her eyes still locked into the large blood shot eye. Hearing about the risk of balance being tipped, she calmed herself and stood up straight.

“She clearly be haven her own motivates, your old Mistress. I never seen anything like dis before.”

[ V.D ]  There was very little that unnerved Verzatea. She was a devoted woman, unshakeable in faith and stalwart to the temptations trying to veer off the course of the Nine. She followed her people blindly, advocating for her fellow devotees ans protecting them with her very life. That was before she returned to the state of the Nine now, the halls emptier and much lonelier than usual after a great many students and practitioners of the dark crafts had abandoned the Bastille in pursuit for more power.

This had left Tea feeling hollow and empty... Friends and students alike had disappeared without a goodbye, before she could wish the great fortune... She thought often of the people who had left, wondering if they were happy. She sure as fel wasn't. But she wouldn't complain. She couldn't fathom what led Lazarius to his decision, but she wouldn't question it. No matter how deeply the sudden change frightened her.

In truth, Verzatea followed Lazarius. He was their Inquisitor, he was her guiding light when she first joined as a young naive elf seeking purpose, he was the wisest of the lot who guided them and connected them to the other side of the thin veil separating the living world from the realm of the supernatural-- of the Gods which they worship. Or rather... Worshiped. So his sudden change in allegiance was... Startling. In the least to say.

Verzatea walked the halls as if on eggshells, desperate to not disturb the Bastille in fear she'd chew everyone up and spit them out like the traitor heathens Tea felt they'd become.

Desperate to not bring attention to herself, an overly cautious measure she practiced to try and ease her anxiety since her return. She even have gone as far as keeping her daughter in her arms or in her sight as Tea worked. She would not risk losing her precious child-- her miracle baby... Her sweet Brinys.

Tea feared that if somehow she drew attention to the young child the Gods would rip her straight from Teas arms... And Tea would be helpless in saving her babe.

Currently the mother daughter duo walked hand in hand, Brinys's quick growth resulting in the black haired babe having found her ability to walk during Verzateas four month long voyage across the great sea to visit her mother and father. Another major event of which Verzatea had to miss, thus setting the first time mother in a sour mood as she wished desperately to have been present for such a feat... Although, Tea was not shy about dotting on Brinys ever-still.

Quickly the mother had become happy acquainting herself with the joy of dressing her child up fashionably. Tea had a knack for her usual pastel colors and modernized, appealing vintage fashion, of which was a far cry from her current darker toned modest (though chic) gown.

In truth, this was the style Tea had changed to after she returned from her journey. Surely it was just a coincidence? After all, the layered fabric which hung loosely off the woman's thinner frame, was a stylish set that also gave her daughter a girly vibe.

For Tea, the dress billowed in an elegant fall, the layer of dress beneath the second layer clung to her waist and hugged the woman's thin, narrow pear shaped figure (in which her bust is smaller in comparison to her slightly larger hips). The dress stopped just at her ankles, feet wearing a matching color pair of open toed ankle strappies (unlike Brinys's sandals). Over all the greenish-blue fabric still managed to stand in contrast to the partially matching duo, Tea and Brinys sharing in their fair skin tone.

The sunken of Teas cheeks and the heavy bags of exhaustion beneath her eyes expertly hidden beneath a carefully applied layer of makeup meant to contour her face-- all in the effort of softening the devastating state of her emaciation.

Along with wearing makeup, the woman also wore a polite smile as she guides Brin toward the library, encouraging the girl to open the library for them, eager to help Brinys work on her motor skills, strength and coordination. After all, Tea had her hands full with one hand clinging to her daughters whilst her other arm had clasped her larger journal beneath the limb, too with writing supplies in her hand.

As they'd enter the library Tea pauses to acknowledge the other entities of the room, her eyes alight with a wave of peace. She felt less vulnerable with her beloveds close by.

"Blessings," she murmurs, her tone lacking a significant amount of confidence,

"I wasnt expecting seeing nearly everyone in one place tonight. Are you all conspiring without the others present for an official meeting?" She aims to tease, though her dry laugh would only make it awkward.

Another unusual far cry from the often perky and charming Confessor. Brinys stares up in wonderment at her mother, her free hand moving to pat Teas hand before releasing her mother all together. With a playful giggle the child bounces forward toward Siida before sweeping the woman's legs up into a hug as she clings to her favorite chosen-aunt.

And just outside of the library doors stood a hesitating Pame. She had been offered the decision to go, or stay by Lazarius... And she fought long and hard with herself over the decision, despite how easy you'd think the choice to be.

Especially after the mental and physical torture she endured as both prisoner and slave to the Nine. But there was... Something here. Purpose, Pame had come to assume, especially so after Lazarius denounced the Old Ones. She felt more at peace with joining ranks.

Although... She was quite hesitant meeting others that had remained, no matter how much she respected their devotion to one another as a group. In truth it had nothing to do with the individuals themselves. It was all due to the fact that she was just... A very socially awkward woman.

She meant well, but often came off as aggressive and even hostile-- It’d be no secret by now that Pame had made one girl cry after what Pame assumed was a friendly argument over a game of chess they were playing... Of course, as Pame later reflected, she came to understand and make note of how "I'll rip your heart from your chest and devour it before your eyes prior to my slurping those from your skull, you dense fool!" was not an appropriate way to substitute "Check mate".

After that experience she'd become a real wall flower, trying to fit in but failing miserably. Now that she'd watched so many pour into the library to mingle and work, Pame was fighting with her decision to enter and join in an exercise of her socializing.

Her doubt was winning out, evident given how she nervously picked at her more casual attire-- Having found comfort in a fresh, long sleeved brown tunic partially tucked beneath her ripped work trousers(ones often paired with her armor), though against her very nature Pame opted to wear shoes (her armor boots). Her long, dark green hair tied up into a messy bun, few strands hanging freely all around.

Her muscular and broad figure cast quite the intimidating shadow against the doorway, likely peeking from beneath the doors, her arms folding beneath her moderate sized breasts, a massive thoughtful frown weighing her thick lips, silver eyes practically burning holes against the door with such intensity.

[ J ]  Jursol seemed a bit more at ease when the mother and daughter walked in. Her smile came off as warm as to not frighten the child. With a bow of her head she greeted them. However her eyes caught the shadow of another who was not yet in the room.

Jimba noticed right away and was in mid leap before she stopped him. Grabbing him up into her arms, Jursol walked over to the doorway. Her usual scent of herbs linger on her body.

“Ah, I see someone be hesitant.” She said softly as she eyed Pame up and down.

“Come now I be sure no one gonna bite ya for entering. If dey not be wanting ya here they tell ya.” Reaching a scaly clawed hand out to Pame as she smiled.

“Come, we can enter together.” Jimba struggled to get free from the trolls strong arm. Clearly he wanted to play with Pame, but now was not the time.

To Be Continued: In Mind of Misery: Reflections, Part 2

[whoissheff]

Much Needed Amelioration Chapter Nine

Suki nodded, “I’ll always be here for you to talk to and lend some sisterly advice,” she said as she sat up.

Katara smiled and then it became fainter. ”Actually, there is something.” She didn’t feel like talking to Toph about it partly because she wasn’t too experienced in that department and she knew Thala’s advice would be sexual, and she also hadn’t known her and Zuko for as long. Katara sat up. “Zuko and I kissed.”

Suki looked ecstatic. “What? When?”

“Yesterday afternoon. We were talking and he asked to kiss me and I said yes. It was pretty spur of the moment.”

Suki’s smile was mischievously excited. “How was it?”

“It was good.” Katara blushed.

“Just good? What else? Was it sexy? Fast? Slow? Slobbery?”

“It was nice. Soft.” Katara answered, not being very descriptive.

“ But… ” Suki prompted

“I don’t know what I think.”

“Well, it sounds like he’s really into you.”

Read it here.

[witchyclispe]

Master of Balance

Posted on ao3 too! Check it out there!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22412821/chapters/55004956

BLOOD AND MURDER WARNING! Please be cautious if those themes bother you!

Chapter Two 

Life is Short

The next few years would grow to be increasingly chaotic for the poor old mechanic . He had certainly not expected it would be so hard to raise another human being but damn had he been wrong. Although Ziorah was a fairly easy girl to raise , she was a very odd child. Always so curious and rambunctious. Percival loved her more than absolutely anything and would give anything to see that adorable little girl smile or hear her giggling.

Percival smiled looking into his living room to see his now 7 year old daughter playing with her "auntie 'thala" as she liked to call her. Arthala had helped him quite a bit with raising the small girl, often times watching her as he went to work out in the garage . Thought the sneaky thing would somehow get past the 7 foot beast of a woman to watch her father working on the old and brand new ships .

The old man was always happy to have Ziorah help him with his work and could see a great deal of mechanical potential in her , which filled him with so much pride you'd think the man might explode when she first completely repaired a set of blasters he kept lying around. The little girl was only 7 for God's sake!

When the little girl noticed her father in the room she jumped off of her aunties shoulders and ran over to him laughing and smiling " Daddy!!! Auntie 'thala brought me a gift!!" Bending down, he picked up Ziorah and let her settle in his arms. " Oh a gift? What was it my little moon?" , Percival asked with mild curiosity. "She brought me old parts! I can add them to my collection Dad!!", Ziorah said with the purest smile .

"Very cool my love. Did you thank your auntie?", " Uhuh! Then me and auntie started playing! She let me ride her shoulders! " she said pointing towards the woman who stood back in their living room.  " Zio is getting' fasta old man. We might need to start tyin' her down!", Arthala said with a loud laugh , placing her hands on her hips . "No! You'll never catch me auntie!" , the girl said climbing out of her adoptive fathers arms. "Alright alright you two, lets not start a race while we're inside , ok?" , Percival said with a chuckle.

" oh wait! Daddy, auntie! I want to show you a magic trick!" , Ziorah shouted tugging on the bottom of her father's shirt and pulling him into the living room. "Since when can you do magic little moon?" , the old man asked quizzically, sitting on his sofa as Arthala say next to him. "Since a few days ago! It happened when I was sleeping and I want to show you guys!", the 7 year old girl said very excitedly . "Well then show us Zio!" , Arthala exclaimed just as excitedly. Ziorah quickly nodded and stood in the middle of the room and shut her eyes tightly , raising her hands in front of her .

Slowly but surely the table that sat beside the couch started to rise into the air. The light and pens that had sat on top of it now floating with the small table. Percival's mouth opened to say something but he was too shocked to even speak . Arthala's mouth hung open in the same gesture of pure shock and bewilderment. Carefully Zio's eyes opened and she looked directly at the table as she brought it back to the ground .

Once everything had been placed back exactly where it had been , Ziorah dropped her arms and looked at the shocked expressions of her father and aunt. "See! I can do magic!", she said whilst her father found his voice again " Ziorah that… that was-" , "Amazin'! Fantastic!! Ya did great dear!" , Arthalas loud voice cut him off as she stood up to hug her niece, all the while Percival just looked at his daughter in awe .

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"Alright my little magician , time for bed .", Percival spoke picking up his half awake and yawning daughter. " Ok daddy. Night night auntie!" , Zio said waving to her aunt. Arthala smiled waving back to the sleepy little girl telling her to sleep well as Percival walked towards the small bedroom he had made for Ziorah just after he first took her in. Placing her down on the small bed , Percival helped to tuck her under the covers. "Daddy I heard the boy again today. " Ziorah spoke out as she sat back into her pillows . " oh? And what did he say today little moon?" , the old man asked as he sat on the side of his daughter's bed.

He had known about the voice Ziorah had been hearing since she could first understand what it was. He often would hear her talking to no one in the middle of the night though it often seemed only like a one sided conversation . She liked to call the voice "the boy " due to never knowing its real name and hating to just call it a voice. "It's a real person daddy i know it is. " she had once told him . To say Percival wanted to believe her would be a stretch . No one sane was known to hear voices and it worried him that she could , that was until today though.

"She's force sensitive Arthala! That's how she was able to move the table! I can't believe I never saw it until now! " , the old man said to his friend as he stood in the kitchen making dinner for the three of them. "Force sensitives are a rare thing now aren't they ,old man? I know ya believe in that mumbo jumbo but ya can't really think its real Perc." , Arthala said leaning on the counter top . "I was brought up believing in it . So was my father and his father before him! Force sensitives are known throughout the galaxy , 'Thala . Only certain people can even pick up on the force , and even fewer can control it! Don't you remember the stories of the Jedi Order? Luke Skywalker?!", Percival stated. He was excited yet scared for his adoptive daughter. Rysheladon wasn't exactly the best place for force users . If you were found to be connected to it they would either kill you, or use you as a slave to the royal family . It usually ended up being the first option due to how much the royal family hated force users of any kind.

Percival suddenly stopped what he was doing and turned towards his large friend and in a quiet yet stern tone he spoke to her. " We can't let anyone know of this Arthala. It could get her killed , I'd never be able to handle that. If anyone ever finds out she- she could be taken away and put into slavery….  'Thala that little girl means more to me than anything in the entire galaxy i-i cant let that happen." , the old man stuttered out . " I promise you Percival . That will never, never , happen to her. We will teach her to control it and not to suppress it so she will never accidentally hurt herself or someone else. " , at that Percival nodded . That evening a silent bond had been formed between them. No one would ever know of Ziorah's connection to the force except for them.

They would make damn sure of that .

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"The boy is always so nice daddy… I wish he could hear me like i hear him " , Ziorah said with a yawn as she laid down into her fluffy pillows . " I know my love. Maybe one day he'll hear you and you can both talk to each other. Maybe even face to face. " , Percival said kissing his daughters forehead and standing up from his spot beside her bed . "I hope he likes me…like i like him ." , he heard her say as he walked to the doorway . "I'm willing to bet he'll love you more than anything little moon. Now go to sleep so you can help me tomorrow in the shop . " , he said with a smile as he quietly turning off her small lamp light . " Alright daddy, i love you . " , " I love you too my little moon , sleep well. "  

As he shut the door to his daughters room, Percival sighed . As if it were a silent prayer, he whispered into the dark hallway , " oh force, please protect my daughter. Let her grow to be a beautiful young woman, she's already far smarter than I could ever  be, strong too . Let her always be strong ."

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Today would be a day of celebration, it would be the 11th birthday of a lovely little girl . Ziorah Casamorsa , adoptive daughter of the legendary mechanic Percival Casamorsa .

Percival was quickly preparing his home for the arrival of his daughter coming home from school and 'spiritual training' at her aunties. Even though in his old age he should definitely not be hanging streamers of stars around his living room, Percival didn't care one bit. Just because he's 72 doesn't mean he can't decorate for his baby girls birthday . Ziorah would be home soon with her aunt and he would wait to surprise her with the slightly deformed birthday cake he had made .

There was a loud knocking at his front door which almost startled him enough to make him fall off the small ladder he was standing on . " Guess they're really early today. " , he said to himself as he carefully stepped off of the ladder and walked over to the front door of his home . As he unlatched the lock and opened it his smile quickly fell from his face.

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" I'm so excited to see dad 'thala! He said he got a really cool new jet turbine that i could help him work on tonight!" , the 11 year old Ziorah said looking up to her aunt as she held her vastly larger hand . " I see little one , ya always like helpin' with those old ships. Ya got quite the talent for mechanic work Zio." , Athala smiled towards the little girl. " They aren't old! Just rustic Thala." , Ziorah said as they walked arrived to Percival's home .

The house , though very old looking, was nice . It was fairly small on the outside and all you could see was the large garage that could only hold about 10-20 small ships at a time. Some of them stationed outside and around the plot of land near the home. The house was colored in different shades of brown and blue . The door was made of metal to keep out what seemed like  the never ending cold weather that Rysheladon experienced . Though today something seemed very off at the house she grew up in, or at least it did to Ziorah.

Ziorah came to a complete stop and let go of her aunts hand, "Auntie, something is wrong. " , the little girl spoke out almost in a monotone voice . "What'dya mean dear? Nothin' looks wrong" , the beast of a woman said coming to a stop with her niece . Arthala crouched down beside Ziorah as the girl looked towards the house with an unreadable expression. Suddenly Ziorah ran towards the house, much faster than even Arthala could keep up with . Ziorah has only gotten faster as shes grown so  suprisingly outrunning her beast of an aunt was nothing to her .

The moment Ziorah came to stand at her front door and as she opened it she could almost feel the force leave her small body.

Blood.

So much blood.

Ziorahs eyes widen as she followed the path with her eyes to three figures standing over something. "Shit, we cut him too much now he's just going to bleed out.", one of the men said loud enough that Ziorah could hear it.

Arthala finally caught up to Ziorah and saw the horror of the 3 strangers standing over Percivals limp and bloody body. "WHAT THE HELL HAVE YOU DONE!?" , Arthala all but roared to the three men now grabbing their attention. Arthala started to walk through the door when very suddenly everything inside the house and even outside the house started floating. Arthala could feel power radiating behind her .

As she looked back , she saw Ziorah with a stone cold expression upon her young face. Tear tracks down her cheeks that were red from the cold outside. Suddenly Arthala could hear gasps coming from the three strangers as she saw them being choked from some invisible hand .

"You hurt my daddy. " , Ziorahs almost dead voice said as she walked into the room looking at the men as they all were gasping for breath . " Zio no! Your powers! " , Arthala called out to her . " Little one let me handle them, please! Take care of your father!" , Arthala all but yelled to her niece .

The men all fell down as Ziorah heard her aunt call to her. Arthala , with quick movements, grabbed all three of the men and started to hold them down and cut off their breathing supply again . Zio hurried to her father's side , taking off her jackets to apply some sort of pressure to the wounds that littered his abdomen.

In a choked whisper, Percival spoke to his daughter ,"lit-little… m-moon… I-I am sorry…. To-t-to leave you… " . "Daddy please don't say that! Y-you'll be ok! I'll fix you! P-please dad!" , ziorah yelled to him, even more tears running down her cheeks . "M-my strong girl… m-my little g-girl… a-always be ...s-str-strong…." , the old man said as he laid his blood covered hand over top his daughters . With his last breath he said he loved her as the light was leaving his eyes. Ziorah broke down crying harder into her father's chest .

Arthala felt the pain and change in the force around them as Percival died. It had stopped her from choking one of the men for one a few seconds , but a few seconds was all he needed to pull the knife out of one of his pockets and stab Arthala in the chest. She roared in pain as he got the jump on her and turned to stab her many more times in the chest , nicking multiple organs until he was again being held up by his throat in the air .

" YOU KEEP HURTING MY FAMILY SO NOW YOU DIE." , Ziorah screamed.  There was a very loud crunching sound of bones being crushed as a strangled yell of pain came from the man who had just been stabbing her aunt. Once she had felt his force leave his body she knew he was dead and dropped his lifeless body to the blood soaked ground .

Next she moved her hand and bent the other 2 men's neck in a funny way. She felt their force leave them as she ran over to her aunt who was now bleeding out like her father. " Auntie you can't leave me too! Y-you can't!" , the little girl yelled to her aunt as she held her hands over the two major wounds that was on Arthala's stomach. "Z-Zio.. Ya w-will be fi-fine without me… l-like ya fa-father said.. y-ya are strong. B-but ya n-need to watch y-ya po-powers . Bad people.. Bad people could hurt ya i-if they k-knew…. " Arthala told the girl as she gasped for breath. "P-promise t-to keep t-them a s-secret little o-one…" , the beastly woman asked the shaking girl whose hands were now covered in a dark blue, almost purple blood. "I-i promise aunt 'thala… I p-promise.." , Ziorah stuttering slightly .

With that, Arthala smiled and closed her eyes as she gave out one last breath. Ziorah felt uncontrollable emotions seep through her . Everything that had just been suspended into the air now flew and hit any surface . Thinks shattering , lights flickering , and Windows exploding with the pain that Zio was feeling . The only family she had ever known was now dead . Crying until she couldn't cry anymore over the dead body of her aunt she realized something .

She was now alone and there was no one in the galaxy who could help her .

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The small girl sat had prepared a burial ritual that her aunt taught her. "Its meant to honor the ones who've passed , little one. " her auntie had told her.

The ritual was used for force users of old , those who lived to protect others in selflessness. The tribe had been taught these rituals and passed them down through generations, even though the ways of the force was extremely illegal on Rysheladon. Kathelenites were rumored to have been very spiritually strong and that the universe had granted them stronger force abilities than most normal force users. Thats why Ziorahs father wanted her to train with them, to help control the powers that grew so strong after such a short period of time.

The tribe which was called 'Sehashka' was all of Arthala's family, and they all treated Ziorah as one of their own . That included her father of course since he knew them all very well after years of friendship with Arthala. Percival often made tech to help conceal their homes that resided up high in Rysheladons famously tall trees. The tribe had created a village hidden from most of the civilians, they had built homes up as high as they could using rope bridges and other more technical methods with the help of Ziorahs fathers mechanical abilities.

Ziorah enjoyed climbing up the trees to train with the Kathelenites, she felt at home with them just like she did with her own father. They taught her about everything. Knowledge of the universe, and more importantly knowledge of her force abilities. She hoped that after the loss of one of their own, maybe there was a possibility she could hide with them since the officers would surely be looking for the culprit of those mens murder as well as her own family.

Ziorah would think more about that later though. A more important task was at hand.

She quietly trudged through the woods, picking up broken branches from around her home. In a large pile of twigs and branches laid the two wrapped up bodies of the two people Ziorah cared for most . One she had a good enough pile of wood, she walked towards a small patch of not yet bloomed flowers.

Focusing her energy solely on the small light purple and pale blue flowers , she out stretched her hand to lay just above them. Slowly the flowers bloomed and grew to be taller than where her hand hovered above the ground. She opened her emerald eyes and picked the flowers making her way back towards the pile of wood. Placing an equal amount of flowers over her father's and aunts heart before she backed away. She quickly lit a match and dropped it onto the pile of wood .

She sat for a while, just watching the fire grow and engulf the bodies of her loved ones. Tears falling down her now rosy cheeks from the cold elements. Ziorah just sat with her eyes closed in a sitting position , meditating. Arthala and her tribe of other kathelenites had taught her to meditate. It soothes the heart and brings peace to even the uneasiest of souls.

Ziorahs soul was definitely uneasy right now.

She just wanted to think of something happy . Anything that might make her saddened heart feel like it wasn't constricting with every breath. To take her mind off of all the pain she felt. Taking a deep breath she tried again to focus on meditating and not the events that had happened a few hours earlier. She was about to just give up and stop meditating when she heard someone. She heard the voice of someone she knew very well .

"Why are you crying?", a boy with shoulder length, almost pitch black hair . He was 11, the same age as Zio. His birthday even the same as hers.

Ziorah opened her tear filled eyes and looked to the young boy. He wasn't wearing any of the proper clothes to keep out the cold weather, in fact he was wearing a long sleeved , slightly baggy tunic. She tilted her head at the boy and wiped some of the tears off her cheeks when the boy continued to speak.

"I'm Ben.. Who are you?" , Ben stepped closer to Ziorah, only being a few feet away now. Ziorah looked towards Ben with a small smile, "I'm… I-I'm Ziorah...you're the boy I hear at night, aren't you?", she said, her voice slightly somber. She heard Ben gasp to himself as he sat down across from her, mimicking her cross-legged sitting position. "You're the girl… the girl I always hear…" , the look of shock on Ben's face soon grew to a smile . One so blinding that Ziorah felt her cheeks heat up .

"I've been hoping that the force would connect us for so long. I always listened to you when I trained with Master Luke. He thought I was just hearing things… I knew you weren't just a voice!", Ben sounded so happy that it was practically radiating off of him. This made Ziorah smile, tears that were still in her eyes falling over her cheeks. She was relieved that the boy was in fact real and not a figment of her childlike imagination.

Her tears caught Ben's attention, his happy smile changed into a look of concern. "Ziorah...Why are you so sad? You look like you've been crying for a while." , the boy said . Ziorah only gave a small smile and looked down to her shaking hands that she held in her lap. "Something happened… some...s-something bad. ", she whispered, almost too quietly for Ben to hear . "I.. I can feel your heartache… what happened? You can tell me… we're friends after-all, aren't we?" , Ben said moving his head so he could look up at Ziorah.

When their eyes connected it was as if the entire universe was blocked out. That sense of peace Ziorah was looking for earlier finally came. She could not only feel her heart and her emotions, but she could feel Ben's, and Ben could feel hers. As Ziorah looked up to see him better she noticed how close together they were, Ben must've noticed too since he slowly reached his right hand up to wipe away a few tears that she had shed.

As his hand touched her cheek it felt as if the nerves in his hand were tingling . Ziorah could feel it too, it was comforting. "You… you promise you won't be scared?", she said in a shaky voice , leaning into the feeling of his hand . "Promise.", Ben nodded with a small smile towards her.

"Today… 3 men came to my home… and they killed my family. And I… I-I got so angry… that I… choked them… killed them… I couldn't control my powers it was like something took control of me. " , she said not making eye contact with Ben , she was too afraid to see his reaction . She had known Ben her entire life but never seen or talked to him until today and what a day today was….

Ben ,with the same smile that he had before started to speak to her in a kind tone."They weren't good people Ziorah… and you couldn't control yourself. Sometimes I can't control the force and it'll make me do things I never meant to do. It takes time... and practice to control it. That's why I'm training to become a Jedi! To help protect people." Ziorah nodded and sniffled a little as she wiped away the remaining tears from her eyes. "Thank you , Ben. That makes me feel so much better..", she said. "Good. A smile suits you much better than tears.", he said laughing a little.  

That night she sat and smiled. Laughed her heart out until she forgot about the days events. T hough she would never truly forget, it was good to have a distraction.

The boy who could make her smile, and the girl who felt joy return to her soul.  

[megarywrites]

⛪ for the ask game!

thank you!!

⛪ | Are there religions? If so, how do they affect the culture?

oh boyyyy

yes there is a religion. this is a good wip for this question, the religion is a major factor in the plot. I've made a few posts about it so far (1, 2, 3)

Grea, which is the country that Seafoam is set in, is led by a tyrannical theocracy. The general vibes of Isotrei is Greek mythology (a pantheon of gods/goddesses) and Catholicism (the general aesthetics of the houses of worship (latridoms) as well as some of the practices) and the combination of the two producing a fundamental Baptist ideology (aka, what I grew up believing). Obviously, this makes it a tad more personal for me lol

But, onto how it affects the actual culture

It's a male-led religion, which means there are some misogynistic practices (to put it lightly).

Once any woman enters a latridom, they are not allowed to speak again until they leave (this concept was taken from this verse in the Bible), and this includes the Stoli (who are essentially nuns) who maintain the latridoms and serve the people of Grea, except that they are not allowed to speak to anyone after they become a Stoli. They do, however, speak aloud between themselves in the privacy of their quarters and with a subtle sign language of their own creation when they are anywhere else.

Because of this, women are considered to be second-class citizens compared to the men. Most of them are encouraged to and do marry before they come of age so that they can escape the life of silence they would have been doomed to, among other things that are not known to the general public. Because of this, there would tend to be a power imbalance between them and their husbands, who could potentially be a lot older than them, which could lead to abusive relationships.

Potions—which is the Grean people use their magic—had not always been banned since the rise of Isotrei, and women turned to potions to maintain and regain some of their power. Talking about potions would be it's own post aldskjfads but they developed potions in six categories:

spirit (potions that affect your health positively) [wound-healing, pain reducer, etc.]

life (potions that make daily life easier) [fertilizer, all-purpose cleaner, etc.]

creation (potions that aid in cultivating the world around you) [energy booster, fertility aid, etc.]

body (potions that affect your outward appearance) [face-shifting, invisibility, etc.]

mind (potions that affect your mind) [truth-telling, memory booster, etc.]

destruction (potions that have to do with death, namely poisons) [memory loss, birth control, etc.]

Once the original Diamo (pope+king) realized the power the women still retained with the use of said potions, they were officially banned and the production of potions became a criminal offense, punishable by death, which was usually being burned at the stake.

All of this is not even the main crime against women that Isotrei commits lol but this is already long. I think I've discussed it before, so I'll just speak briefly on it here. Not only are the Stoli expected to serve the Diamo and the Dromas (priest+mayor/governor) in the latridoms as well as the people of their community, they are also prostituted by the Diamo and the Dromas to the merchant captains on their voyages to other lands as entertainment for themselves and their crew.

So...to say it affects the culture is a bit of an understatement lol

There is still hope for women, however. In their communities, they band together and form close-knit friendships that make the day-to-day life in a place like this more bearable. Some still make potions in secret, whether they be for the choice few people they chose to share this secret with, or as a supplier for Agorostiko—the black market operating within the capitol city.

send me Get to Know the WIP asks? 

[diaryofomellas]

[Fanfiction] An Arrow in Her Quiver - Prologue

Summary:

I almost died fighting the Burning Legion. By the end of that cruel war to save Azeroth, the Horde had a new Warchief. I was well on my way to be accepted into her inner circle, and I was not going to break her trust. We do what we must. I pledged my life to Sylvanas Windrunner. I am just an arrow in her quiver.

Read in Ao3

The dark ground of the Broken Shore glistened green and red. The fel of the Burning Legion mixed with the blood of the defenders of Azeroth. All around me, demons poured out of portals, slashing the life out of my allies, my friends. The stench of dark magic and death hung in the air like a persistent haze.

I plucked a few arrows from the corpses of demons littering the ground around me. They were not enough to replenish my empty quiver. I looked around, trying to find any familiar faces. My best friend stood on a cliff not far from me. "Romma!" I shouted. Flames that poured from her hands consumed the body of a felstalker, an eerie yowl of pain marking its death. I ran towards her, with Hati following me closely. "Are you okay?" I asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm tired," she replied as she wiped the sweat from her eyebrow, "but I'm alright." Romma sent dancing flames towards a group of imps that ran in our direction. Two of my arrows flew, striking them all down in a team effort. "We are losing this war, Omellas," she growled. "This is a bloodbath." Her face was sombre, eyes drowning in the dread she tried to hide.

"I know, I know!" I sent another arrow flying towards the face of a wretched demon, about to overcome an Alliance human. The human nodded briefly in my direction before running off to keep on fighting. "Have you seen them? Have you seen Sylvanas?"

"I saw her running over there a while ago." She pointed towards a cliff not too distant from where we stood, then looked back at me. "Please, be careful, sister."

"You too, Romma." I took her big orcish hand in my small ones for a second, giving it a reassuring squeeze. My pale hands contrasted wildly with her bright green skin as I let them slide away.

It didn't take long for me to find out she had been right. A big infernal fell at Sylvanas' feet as I turned a corner. Her silvery blond hair flailed in the sudden rush of wind and dust. Our Warchief Vol' jin was also fighting not far from there, brandishing his curved sword to strike down his enemies.

Being with Sylvanas always gave me a sense of security, ever since our time in Quel' Thalas. Thirsty for the approval of our Ranger-General of Silvermoon, I worked hard to stand out since I was just a kid. The fond memories that remained of that time were muddled by pain. Losing my family to the Scourge was quite the blow. I shed many tears for them, knowing that the guilt of my failure to protect them would follow me until my dying hour. But it was the news of her death to the blade of Arthas that almost broke me back then. What good was it to be a part of an elite ranger group if I couldn't protect anyone I loved?

Movement on the corner of my eye caught my attention. A felguard approached Sylvanas from behind. She was momentarily distracted, focusing on Vol' jin, who was surrounded by enemies. I wanted to yell, make her turn around and face the approaching demon. Deep down, I knew she wouldn't be able to listen to me. I was too far away. My voice wouldn't carry over the loud clattering of weapons and I raced towards her, right hand flying to my quiver, pulling out the only arrow left. I released it as my feet moved as fast as possible, hitting the felguard right in his naked chest. His feet staggered but did not stop. My heart sank, the fear of losing her again flooding me. My pet wolf sprinted towards him, snapping at his heels.

My one arrow flying past Sylvanas' head was enough to get her attention. She glanced at me and then to the felguard behind her. She nocked an arrow on her bow, pulling the string backwards, aiming at the demonic soldier. Another arrow to the chest. He tripped once again but continued to move forward. It was as if both arrows sticking out of his chest were merely tickling him. His leg armour was mangled, and his legs were bloodied. He walked slower now, with a limp. Hati sunk her teeth in one of his legs, and he tried to shake her off. Maybe there was hope after all.

Sylvanas took a step back, pulling a new arrow from her quiver while the felguard pulled back his sword arm, prepared to strike with all his might. "Sylvanas!" I screamed, close enough now to be of any use. But without ammunition, there was only one thing I could do. I stepped between her and the felguard, arms outstretched to shield her from the attack.

Pain seared through my chest as if I was on fire. Everything went black for a second. My breath caught on my throat, blood pooled in my mouth as the sword ran through me until it came out on the other side.

I blinked a couple of times, yet everything was blurry. A shower of arrows fell on the bulky warrior of the Legion. He fell backwards with a throaty groan, pulling the sword back out of my chest. I feared the sword had cut me in half on the way out. It fell to the ground with a loud clang. That sound rang in my ears like the funeral tolling of a bell.

My legs gave out, and my knees hit the ground hard. Blood poured out of the hole in my chest, soaking my armour, staining my hands a sickly red colour. As I looked down to my bloody body, I could barely feel any pain at all anymore. I couldn't feel anything. Everything was numb, unreal. It was like watching it happen to someone else.

"Omellas!" Sylvanas' voice echoed, far, far away. Yet, she was right there with me. Her face next to mine as her arms slowly lowered my body to the ground. There was concern in her eyes. It was comforting to think some of it might even be for me.

I tried to speak. There was so much I wanted to tell her. Memories streaming through my mind, coming down like a downpour. There was so much...So much I had to tell her. But I couldn't catch my breath. No sound came out when I opened my mouth. There was only the metallic taste of blood, and her crimson eyes staring down at me in the shadow of the Tomb of Sargeras.