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purplealmonds · 10 months

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This is my tribute to the late Technoblade. I'm well over a week late to the anniversary of his passing, but I think it was worth the wait. I wanted to get this right.

The story I want to tell is of time's passage after his passing, and the set dressing of this space is a symbolic amalgamation of various aspects of his life depicting that concept.

I have a lot more to say about this painting - three pages just for the symbolism alone. If you're interested, please let me know and I'll share my analysis on a separate post! Edit: I caved. Aight, prepare for a massive info dump below the cut!

DISCLAIMERS:

Although I put a lot of research into this piece, my knowledge is likely flawed and incomplete. If I missed or misinterpreted a reference, it’s because I’m new to the Technoblade community. If I got a symbolism thing wrong, it’s because I relied on Google search for answers. I fact checked where I could. And with this analysis, I hope I can clear up any misinterpretations!

—

OVERVIEW:

There’s lots of imagery to unpack so I’ll try parsing it in a structured manner. Let’s first examine it holistically.

The story I want to tell here is of time’s passage after Technoblade’s passing. As such,the set dressing of this space is a symbolic amalgamation of that concept.

Prominently featured are the various medical equipments - a nod to the grim reality of his cancer. But let’s not linger upon that aspect of his story.

Of equal importance are the more mundane objects - his gaming setup, the couch and pillow which Floof sat upon in that one photo, the plethora of paraphernalia of branded merchandise, and references to his exploits in Minecraft. These are relics and mementos of his legacy.

All of these elements intermingle in flooded, lushly overgrown room looking out to a rose-tinted exterior. Is it dawn? Dusk? I’ll leave that interpretation up to the viewers.

The third and final component is the plant life representing his community -us. We beautify this metaphorical space with where it was once laden with tragedy. Yet, despite these riotous blooms, we never quite encroach on the bed - the empty space left behind by him.

—

SET DRESSING:

Much care was taken in selecting the blossoms and placing them in symbolically significant locations. And this neatly transitions us into the analysis individual details.

Foreground:

In the foreground, ivy crawls through a lamp and white clovers thrive atop a pile of pillboxes. The lamp base, once a shining bronze-like finish, is heavily tarnished. The lampshade is overgrown with moss and ivy. Even if the greenery has yet to damage the electric wiring, the damp surely has finished the job. Even if the bulb is replaced, the body is too far gone. The light’s never coming on again.

I was initially put out that my painstakingly 3D modeled pillboxes became entirely obscured, but I think it works in favor of the piece’s overarching theme: the beautiful wilds overtaking a space that once reeked of the desperate fight to prolong life.

White clover blossoms meaning “thinking of you” is paired with the ivy meaning “everlasting devotion”. It’s an apt combination. It has been over a year since his passing, and we still remember and carry on his legacy.

Nestled amongst the foliage is Techno’s compass. It was once used to hunt him down in the Dream SMP. But now, it’s an odd comfort. Even though he’s no longer with us, he’s still somewhere far, far away– or is he? The original idea was for the needle to point heavenwards, but it is currently pointing…sideways? I’ll get to the reasoning a bit later.

The Flood:

Moving deeper into the space, we hit the floodwaters. These once turbulent currents are now tranquil enough to nourish this verdant place. The thriving plant life hides much of this darkness. It is beautiful, hopeful, even. But always bittersweet, because everything that grows here is laced with an old sorrow.

White lotus rise from the murky depths. That is us, overcoming our grief. Breaching the surface, we gain a new vantage point to contemplate this loss. Perhaps we can also find a more comforting perspective of it.

Submerged amongst the blossoms is a rusted oxygen machine. I wanted to decorate the machine with stickers, much like one would personalize a plaster cast for a broken limb. It is deliberate that the “Technoblade Never Dies” sticker is in shadow, while the “So Long, Nerds" is in light.

Immediately to the right was meant to be a box of assorted Technoblade apparel. But then I flooded the space for narrative reasons, rendering that idea unusable. I eventually converted it into a Welch’s Fruit Snacks box, because apparently Technoblade liked them? It’s one of the shallower references here but it is what it is.

And finally, there is a little cameo floating somewhere in the waters. An Easter egg, if you will. I wonder if you can find it?

Furnishings from Home:

I found the couch and Technoblade’s gaming setup during my trawl through the Technoblade Reddit page for reference photos. Balancing this space full of impersonal medical equipment with more personalized belongings is grounding. These areas insert familiarity in this strange environment.

Gaming Setup:

The gaming setup is bare bones - just the monitor, keyboard, and mouse. There was no space to add more iconic elements like his Blue Yeti microphone or the steering wheel from that Minecraft challenge. Hanging above but heavily obscured by overgrowth are two framed pictures of Technoblade’s cabin and a potato minion. It is a blink-and-you-miss-it detail, placed in a dim space and requiring close examining to notice. Without the context of the rest of this environment, it is easily mistaken as generic set dressing.

That’s the point, though. This was a space where he streamed and created videos much beloved by his community. This space was the means of creation, not the creations themselves. Without the creator at the helm, this setup becomes insignificant. Does one dote over the easel on which paintings were created, or the paintings themselves? So now it sits in darkness, a footnote of Technoblade’s legacy.

Nostalgia Corner:

On the other end, we have the sold out Youtooz plushies and the Agro Pig plush from the recent merch drop sat atop the couch. If you look closely, you’ll see a Skeppy coin leaning against one of the plushies. Behind the couch is a shelf. A generic shelf, but the important bits here are the sellout bell, Youtube plaque, and vinyl figurines.

This corner of the room is nostalgic and soft. Everything is bathed in rosy pink light, and it is filled with things that are comfortingly familiar. All across the world, people in his community have these pieces of merch to remember him by.

The red poppies that also grow here have multiple meanings. It represents the battle - one against sarcoma - which was fought here. It symbolizes death, but also resilience in the face of grueling conditions. It is said that they grow in former battlefields where of fallen warriors. I believe of all the flowers here, this one best represents Technoblade.

The Hanging Mobile:

Strung up above it is a rather last minute addition to the environment - a hanging mobile fabricated from totems representing each member of the Sleepy Bois Inc. friend group. First and foremost is Technoblade’s iconic MCC crown, aptly placed at the top. Although it is untouched by the greenery, the gold and jewelry are somewhat muted and tarnished by time.

This is not the case for the objects below. TommyInnit’s music disc shines iridiscent green and purple - Cat and Mellohi merged into one. To is right is a sky-blue guitar pick with the LoveJoy logo engraved onto it for Wilbur Soot. And finally, below it all is Philza’s Friendship Emerald - sparkling and refracting light - with Elytra feathers fastened at the bottom. They, suspended and isolated from everything, maintain a pristine vibrancy which strongly contrasts against everything else in this space.

IV Stand:

Next to the computer setup is the IV stand. It sustains life which is incapable of continuing on without intervention. The butterfly milkweed growing on it, in contrast, says “let me go.” The latter, overtaking the tangle of tubes and powered off patient monitor, is victorious. The hooks stand rusted, and the IV bag empty from disuse.

Sat atop the patient monitor but almost blending into the walls is a pig figurine featured in Dream’s latest music video. It stands on a high perch, yet is unassuming as to direct focus on Technoblade, or rather, his absence.

Hanging from the wired basket is an air freshener tag. If you look on the official website, this is one of the only products which has what I can only call interesting flavor text. Most are merely descriptions and specs of the product. To quote it verbatim:

“Yes, this is a real product. And no, this ‘air freshener’ has no discernible fragrance. ‘Why’ you ask? Because Mr. Technodad and our team agreed this was exactly the sort of air freshener Alex would have found hilarious.”

As morbid as it sounds, I feel like this air freshener tag would not have existed before Technoblade’s passing. It is so unlike any other merchandise I’ve seen in any other branded merchandise store. It’s like an inside joke, secretly shared within the descriptions for the world to eventually discover.

Window:

Unlit candles line the window sill - the aftermath of a candlelight vigil. It is a versatile symbol. It raises awareness of a disease or illness. It pays tribute the dead. Judging from the melted wax dribbling down the candle shafts and the wall below (the opacity was reduced so it looks less like bloodstains), this has been done many times over. But there is so much more candle to burn, representing the people still continuing this ceremony, albeit in the privacy of their own homes.

Above the candles are some broken blinds. When grieving, it would have been so easy for Mr. Technodad to hide away from the world in his grief. It’s understandable, to give into that primal urge to flee from prying eyes when he’s at his most vulnerable. He had the difficult task of reading out his son’s final farewell to us. This barrier between him and us dismantled by this gesture so we can remember Technoblade together.

Coincidentally, the window frame itself somewhat resembles the kitchen window featured in Technoblade and Technodad's cooking videos. Completely unintentional on my end, but fitting in a way since in both those videos they're pulling back the metaphorical curtains for the audience to peer into a small aspect of their private lives.

To the right of the window is a nondescript clock, forever stopped at the 6:30 as a nod to the date when the "So Long, Nerds" video was published. The minute hand is accidentally left out removed to signify that time will no longer move forward for Technoblade. In contrast, the rest of the world - represented by this space - continues to grow and change around his absence.

A wind chime hangs just outside the window. It is said that the soothing sounds produced by them is a healing balm during tumultuous times. Where there is wind there is stirred up emotions, but it is motionless on this calm, breezeless day. A rare respite, where remembrance overrides grief.

On a more amusing note, there is an interesting looking moth perched on the window glass. Upon closer inspection, the wing pattern may look somewhat familiar. In Chinese culture, when a huge moth visiting your home is the embodiment of your recently deceased loved one checking on you. Remember the compass in the foreground? Well, here’s why it is pointed sideways instead of upwards. This idea came up rather organically during a VC session in the R/Technoblade Discord server. My handful of viewers and myself affectionately dubbed this doofy looking moth TechnoMoff!

Venturing further beyond the windows, ferns grow with wild abandon. They represent eternal youth, and from a certain point of view, he will remain youthful forever at the age of 23. He lives on through us carrying on his legacy and spreading his story.

Everything outside is tinged with pink. After someone dies, we start seeing them less as a person and more as a legacy. It is the natural course of things to start seeing the deceased through rose-tinted lenses - hence the artificially pink hue of the outside contrasting with the more grounded color palette of the inside.

Bed:

And now we circle back to the centerpiece of this entire composition: the bed and the things that surround it.

In front of the bed is an over-bed table with a single object: an incense bowl filled to the brim with burnt sticks of incense. A simple shrine for Technoblade. In Chinese culture, we light incense at the altar to honor our loved ones. We may live separate lives and not cross paths often, but we all come together to leave our marks through this ritual. It is proof that he is still very much loved and missed by us all.

The bariatric bed frame is typically seen in hospitals. It allows the patient to comfortably sit up or recline without expending valuable energy. Encased in this frame is something more personal - the mattress and cushions which Technoblade laid upon in his photo with the Youtube plaque. Their unique patterning is a foil for the impersonal receptacle it is caged in. It is spotlit by the window light, emphasizing its emptiness. Not a single blossom dares to encroach upon this space, because to do so would be to erase the space where Technoblade last resided. Like I mentioned before, this is story is about the space around him as much as it is about him.

Cradling this bed frame are several flowers. Rosemary and forget-me-not’s for remembrance. Appropriate, given its proximity to the bed. Morning glories, for resilience. That’s us, again. For a while, we meander and spread in the upper walls of this space, avoiding the floodwaters which symbolize grief. But eventually, we gather the strength to meander down to the bed, where grief was the strongest.

—

CONCLUSION:

There is that cheesy quote from that one Marvel TV show – “What is grief, but love persevering?” While this reframes our perception of dealing with loss, grief is not some thing that should linger. The absence of grief does not equate to the lack of love. Instead, I would like you to consider this: remembrance is love persevering. And with our combined perseverance, Technoblade will never truly die.

#technoblade #Technoblade never dies #Technoblade fanart #techno fanart #sleepy bois inc #tommyinnit #philza #wilbur soot #qsmp chayanne #skeppy #dream #mcyt #mcyt fanart #fan art #purplealmonds #2023

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bri-the-nautilus · 9 months

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Hi there! I saw your reply to that ask about Malenia being a milf, really enjoyed reading it all (it was all just right!). Especially a passage on Gowry. Do you have more detailed headcanons/theories on him? Can you share them?

It's just that he plays an important role in my own postcanon story, being sort of a rematching villain. So I'm always open on any info on him and the Rot in general, even others' headcanons. Do you think there could be other humans worshipping the Rot? (not just kindreds/pests).

I meself stick to the theory of him being a Carian sorcerer who's studied the Rot and went too far (then even farther to turn back).

Thank you!

(editing this in at the end. This got LONG. I dug up so much stuff as I was compiling my thoughts, and this post took quite a turn. Thanks for getting me thinking, and I apologize for how ungodly long this post is. This was fun!)

Gowry is an interesting one. He doesn't talk much about himself, and his adopted daughters don't really like to talk about him either for obvious reasons. And as far as sane residents of Caelid to converse with go, it's really just him and the girls, a few merchants, Maliketh, and Jerren. Not exactly a wealth of lore.

Let's start with his armor set. Gowry wears the Sage Set, which can be found in Liurnia's Stillwater Cave. It's worth noting that this cave is home to several Rot-themed enemies, including mushroom priests and a Cleanrot Knight. From the description of the Sage Armor:

Thick burgundy robe. Attire of the wise sages who were deemed heretical. Evidence that the wearer was driven from town.

This is interesting. It's also worth noting that Gowry isn't the only character who wears this armor. Necromancer Garris, the boss of the Sage's Cave, also wears pieces of the set. Their faces are also quite similar. There could be a connection here, but we're getting sidetracked.

So the Sages were driven from a town. The question is, which town? The answer is of course Sellia, Town of Sorcery. Gowry lives just outside the city walls. For confirmation, we need only look at his inventory. Gowry sells Night Shard and Nightmaiden's Mist, whose descriptions both say that they were invented in Sellia. The third spell he sells is Glintstone Stars, which is a Raya Lucaria sorcery, but its description also says that it's a spell of the Olivinus Conspectus, "which attracts sorcerers from Sellia."

So Gowry lived in Sellia as a sage, where he learned the town's signature brand of magic. Then he was kicked out for heresy, per the Sage Armor's description. The next question we have to ask is, what heresy did he commit? Let's take a step back and examine Liurnian orthodoxy. Astrological worship is the basis for all of Liurnia's science and religion. The Academy worships the stars, while the House of Caria and Lazuli Conspectus worship the moon as well. The description of the Lazuli Robe calls this star-moon worship heresy. I don't think what Gowry did was heresy in the Liurnian sense of the word, however. Sellia is a town descended from the Nox and heavily associated with the Olivinus Conspectus. The Nox were star worshippers, and the Olivinus are an orthodox Conspectus with a focus on meteors. If Gowry grew up here, the odds of him converting to moon worship are slim.

Rot worship is a possibility. The only real evidence of pre-Shattering Rot worship is House Marais, who clandestinely worshipped the Outer God of Rot in their castle. The Haligtree venerated Malenia, but didn't worship the Rot because Malenia herself suffered at its hands and would like nothing more than to be rid of it. Rot worship doesn't go mainstream until after Aeonia when an entire civilization of shrimp cultists crawls out of the nuclear swamp and decides Malenia is their goddess. So while Gowry worshipping the Scarlet Rot in prewar Sellia would be kind of heretical, it would also be a really weird thing for anyone to be into given the time and place. Also, notice that the Rot is only ever worshipped by people actively suffering from it. "The sons of House Marais are all sickly born" (probably because they decided to build on top of a poison swamp), and the mushroom priests and shrimpbros speak for themselves. It would be very odd indeed for a healthy Sellian man in a lush, unblighted Caelid to suddenly say "hey screw the stars, we worship super skin necrosis now." You know what I think he did?

Necromancy.

Oh yeah, you thought we were done with Gary.

So let's talk about our friend Necromancer Garris for a second. While it's not in his name like it is for Gowry, Garris is almost definitely a Sellian sage. He looks like Gowry, he wears the requisite robes, and the cave where he lives is called the "Sage's Cave." Unless the Black Knife lurking nearby has some scholarly qualifications we don't know about, the Sage in question has to be Garris. Now what exactly is his deal? What can we learn about heresy from this guy?

Garris is a necromancer. He summons bone snails in battle and uses the Prince of Death staff to cast a spell similar to Rancorcall, whose description claims that it's an ancient death hex presumed lost to the annals of history until Garris rediscovered it. Most interesting, however, is his weapon. Garris wields the unique flail Family Heads.

Three bludgeoning copper heads attached to a handle by chains. Signature weapon of Necromancer Garris, the heretical sage. The heads were made to resemble those of his wife and two children.

Oh. Oh. Oh.

Here we have confirmation that Garris is not only a Sage, but a heretical one. Much like good old Gowry. A wife and children, you say? Let's take a look at the weapon's unique Ash of War: Familial Rancor. This ash behaves similarly to Rancorcall, the spell that Garris rediscovered and uses. And its description?

Gently rattle the copper heads to summon vengeful spirits that chase down foes. The anguish of a spouse and children invites accursed wrath.

Alrighty. It's the classic story of a magician and his dead family. This is just Fullmetal Alchemist now. We don't really have the evidence to say one way or another what happened here. Did Garris lose his family and resort to necromancy to try to get them back? Or is the "wrath" and "anguish" of his family a result of him using them as human sacrifices or guinea pigs in his experiments with the dark arts? But enough of that.

The trouble we were having with Gowry is that we couldn't pin down what he was doing that would have gotten him banished from Sellia. Sellia, per the Night Shard description, is a town of assassins that habitually kill other sorcerers. You'd have to do something nuts to get kicked out of a place like that, and we just didn't have anything that points towards a sensical explanation for Gowry's heresy. This is where Garris saves us. We know he was also a Sage who got kicked out of Sellia for being a heretic, but unlike Gowry, we know EXACTLY what Garris was doing. And now let's look back at Sellian theological law and try to apply it to necromancy.

Of course necromancy is heretical! The Lands Between broadly speaking venerates the dead. Dead people are buried at the roots of the Erdtree to return to its grace. The burial watchdogs are statues built to watch over these dead, and while the Erdtree is a Golden Order concept, the fact that some watchdogs use glintstone attacks implies that the Liurnians also build them. Liurnia does have its own Erdtree burial catacombs, despite not worshipping the Erdtree or any other Golden Order figures as deities. We know from Fia and Lionel that people in the Lands Between see the Deathbed Companions as disgusting heretics. What do Deathbed Companions do? Raise the dead. Necromancy seems like an amazing way to get yourself kicked out of just about any dignified society in the Lands Between.

And when we look at Gowry through the lens of necromancy... things start to add up.

If you try to kill Gowry, he turns into a Kindred of Rot on death and his disembodied voice casually mentions that he can keep coming back. Upon reloading the shack, Gowry's there again. You can repeat this ad infinitum until reaching the end of his and Millicent's questline. He doesn't stay dead.

Hmm.

We can't really say for sure what Garris was doing with his necromancy outside of the fact that he was researching ancient hexes. Gowry, on the other hand...

Here's my theory. Gowry, either together with Garris or on his own, starts researching methods of achieving life after death. When what he's doing comes to light, he gets banished from Sellia, but his work is far enough along that he can finish it alone without the resources of a town of sorcery. But as an outcast, there's not much he can really do with that.

Enter Malenia.

Malenia's bloom is said to have been awe-inspiring and divine. We can find ghosts who witnessed Aeonia ranting about the divine splendor.

Sublime, I tell you. The very first flower of Aeonia bloomed on this very spot. Malenia, may you blossom into a goddess.

For Gowry, who is by now thoroughly disillusioned with the Sellian orthodoxy that kicked him to the curb for being a necromancer, the Rot may well have been a religious experience. Especially when the necrotic death bomb starts creating life.

Life from death. The goal of every necromancer.

And oh boy does Caelid have it.

Gowry has found a Goddess who he thinks can create life from death. He has an entire cult worth of shrimp people who also worship her, and who he can manipulate as he pleases with his superior intellect. And best of all, he has Malenia's daughters, who he can raise into Goddesses of Rot themselves.

Gowry is of course just a man. An old man whose condo is six feet away from Ground Zero for the Aeonian Bloom. His body is dying as he experiences all this wonder and finds the infant buds amidst the fallout of the Bloom. But for a Necromancer, who has cracked the code, this is no trouble. Even as his body gives out, Gowry's spirit possesses a lowly Kindred of Rot, projecting an illusion of his human form. As a Kindred, he can survive indefinitely in rotting Caelid. As an illusory human, he can deal with outsiders and raise Malenia's daughters. If his Kindred is slain... no matter. There's more where that came from.

#elden ring #malenia blade of miquella #elden ring lore #elden ring theory #sage gowry #necromancer garris #sellia #caelid #scarlet rot #asks #answered #answered asks

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kozachenko · 1 day

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I've crawled out of my cave after playing Final Fantasy IX for a long ass time what have I missed?

Artist's Notes:

I'M BACK BABY! A while back I made a post with a new style experimentation thingy but I ended up deleting it because it was just kind of a boring face thing, I was planning on doing more art but then I started playing Final Fantasy IX and uhhhh yeah so that game has kind of taken of my brain for the past two weeks and I am 20 hours into the game because I love it so much. I wanted to draw Vivi because Vivi is just really fun to draw ok? I've kinda been feeling really burnt out with my lineless style, mainly because of how hard it was to do lighting. I'll show one of my initial art style tests on the bottom of this post. Again, used to have it be an individual post but it was just one face so it was kinda boring, so might as well include with this one on the subject of art styles. I wanted to kinda mix some aspects of my older style with the sketchy shading lines with a more painterly way of doing the lighting (mainly in the shadows). All in all, I think that's my favourite part about this drawing, it feels nice to finally be able to do some proper lighting again, and I want to experiment even more with my lighting and rendering in future pieces. Also, part of the pant shading got kinda lost in the sketchiness, so for next time I'll probably focus on the clarity of the more sketchy parts of the drawing, since I did go with my initial sketch for the final drawing. I also gave up on the background since I had no idea what to do for it, and I didn't put too much detail into the staff as I forgot which one I gave him in my current playthrough and I didn't want to risk spoiling myself via looking up references, but that's ok I like how the singular yellow circle on it matches Vivi's eyes. Also I was having a bit of trouble figuring out how to draw his body and how to pose him, but I like how the pose turned out a lot. It was inspired by his idle animation when in a battle in game where he does a little shimmy.

Ok I need to talk about Vivi's design because I love it so fucking much oh my god-

I absolutely love how his face is just in complete shadow and only his eyes stand out, it's so cool and unique and I love how they recontextualized the original black mage design from the classic Final Fantasy games. How they did it I won't say because I don't wanna spoil the game, but someone give this poor baby a therapist because he goes through a lot. Actually, same can be said for all of the FFIX cast, they all need therapy (again, I won't spoil anything, please go play the game for yourself).

While I do love almost all the characters in the game, even though Vivi is most fun to draw, my favourite character has to be Zidane (the main protagonist of the game). He's a really fun protagonist, and they could have easily written him as a misogynistic jerk who doesn't respect women but they didn't, and I really appreciate that. He's just an overall cool dude who's a really nice older brother figure to Vivi and also just has a cool character design (who I also want to draw eventually). Initially in the game I was planning on grinding levels for Vivi to make him the tactical nuke of the party, but then that title went to a different character (who was initially multiple levels behind the group since I grinded the party in the starting area way to much before they joined, but now they are two levels ahead of everyone and have pulled the team through a lot of tough battles, again I won't say who it is because it is kind of a spoiler and the way the gameplay actually ties into their character arc is just so good omfg). Once I eventually finish the game I'll probably write a full review on here, so no spoilers until then lol

Also, I've kinda been burning out a bit with making Touhou art, which also made me a bit burnt out with Touhou stuff in general (although I will continue keeping up with the manga) so getting into other things (i.e. Final Fantasy and even Fallout since I've watched the first season of the TV show which is a whole other post for another day) has helped me refresh and given me something new to think about. I've ended up in the exact place I feared ending up, where I would start drawing fanart for it not because I wanted to but because I felt like I had to, so I'm taking a bit of a break. When I do draw Touhou fanart again I'll try to draw for the sake of myself, and to all the other artists and fanartists on this platform (and on any social media for that matter), take care of yourself and don't forget to take breaks when you need to!

(Ok part of that last paragraph was definitley influenced by the good ol' "it's 9:00pm and I need sleeb, but the message at the end still holds up, always take care of yourself)

Oh yeah, and here is that one style experiment I did btw

Man I really fell down the "Yoshitaka Amano art enjoyer" to "Final Fantasy fan" pipe line didn't I?

#art #fanart #final fantasy ix #vivi final fantasy #ff9 #vivi ff9 #final fantasy #final fantasy fanart

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rose-riot-johnson · 11 months

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3rd and 4th place tie alongside Fairy Tail's, Erza Scarlet according to a poll I originally posted:

Trafalgar D Law, from One Piece

Hello my Tumblr Peeps👋😃 Since I wanted to work on a One Piece fanfic for a long time, I have thoughts on my decision to work on him even before a poll I posted a while back, so on working on a fanfic about Trafalgar D Law, I figured why not and have fun writing about it🤷‍♀️😃👍

Please Don't Leave My Crew, I Like You A Lot (Trafalgar D Law (One Piece) x Female Reader)

Genres: Angst, Comfort, Fluff, and Funny Light Hearted Fluff

Eversince the day you became Trafalgar D Law's crew member (member of the Heart Pirates), you were always there for him, while you weren't sure why Law wanted you as part of his crew. You weren't upset about it not finding anything wrong about it nor thinking it was a mistake in anyway. You just ended up being atleast mostly curious, if you were being atleast honest with yourself.

Law can be at times distant and/or a little strict, however he has been kind to you, as well. Despite of him being protective of you, he usually treats you better than the rest of his crew, including Bepo. You just couldn't help that he appears to have a soft spot for you.

One day, you asked Law, "Hey, Law. Since you do seem to think highly of me, would it be alright, if I do join you on your adventures, sometime when we do land on an island or village or something?", then you explained, "I figured I'd ask, because I'm curious about why you have me as your crew member, while you only have me stay on the ship. I mean, if it's a no to me coming with you and/or a no to talking about it, then I promise to leave your answers, as such, until you decide differently.". Trafalgar D Law, then showed you a very, annoyed look on his face, as he said, "I'm not in the mood to talk right now! I'm sorry, if I come off as rude. I just need to think about this. We will discuss later! Please leave before I snap! It's not your fault for my bad mood! I just need time to process everything you said, including your question when I came down!". You did as he asked you to do. You just weren't sure what crawled up on him, all the sudden.

You went to your room on Law's ship, while comtimplating, if he only said that his bad mood wasn't your fault to make you feel better, worried about if everything you said got him snippy with you, and if he changed his mind about having you, as a member of the Heart Pirates crew. For hours you had to think things through, then your anxiety caved in, to the point where you jumped to the conclusion that you thought he took you in, for you to become the member of the Heart Pirates crew, only out of pity, so your anxiety has your mind made up.

After Law cooled off, he decided to go to your room to apologize and talk to you, however unfortunately when got into your room, he saw you packing your clothes. "What's going on and why are you packing your clothes, (Female Reader)?", he asked, as he became concerned. You answered, "I really do enjoy you as my captain, I really enjoy the crew, and stuff, so nothing against or anything. I have been thinking about that pissed off look you gave me and everything you said to me while angry with me, then I ended up having anxiety as I went to my room, so I think it would be best I leave the crew.", then you started to sob.

Law was shocked and confused then he asked, "What? Leave? Are those the only reasons why you want to leave?". As you continue to sob, you replied, "It's not that I want to leave, it's that I haven't been feeling much use in the crew and earlier today you seemed very, upset with me, so I felt I should leave so I don't upset you nor anyone else in this crew again. I just feel that you only took me in the crew, because you felt sorry for me. I feel like I'm nothing, but pitiful, so this is why I have to leave.". Law started to feel bad about not letting you on any adventures with him and the crew for you to stay on the ship, while being very nice, so he knew he had to tell you before it's too late.

"(Female Reader)... Please listen to me. It's not it at all.", he said, while trying to comfort you,"You see... I... I... I took you, because I like you a lot and I wanted you to be my apprentice... With not taking you with me, I didn't realize I was harsh with you, until you told me this. I just should have known better. I should have letted you come with us more, (Female Reader).". You were surprised that he told you this. You just never knew he was gonna say this.

Law, then continued, "You see, (Female Reader). I only had you stay on the ship, because I was worried that Doflamingo and other enemy pirates, would harm you, or even use you as hostage. So, I decided I didn't feel safe with you coming with us at the time. I felt safer you stayed on the ship. My anxiety does get to me, too.". Afterwards you asked, "Is this why you gave me an annoyed look, Law?", as you give him a confused look. He answered, "No... No... No... My crew just won't stop tormenting me about you. My crew told me that, if I like you so much, I should definitely take you with me. Then they tormented me chanting about you and I sitting in the tree, crap.".

Law then said with a tear rolling down his face," So, what I really wanted to tell you is, I'm sincerely sorry I blew up at you and I'm sorry for not taking consideration for your well-being and your potential. I really shouldn't have held you back. I know my annoyance is no excuse for me blowing up at you nor using my tone that I did use towards you. Will you forgive me, (Female Reader)?". You had to think for a second about the fact that things are starting to make sense on why he did what he did, while his words comforted you for a moment. You then told Trafalgar D Law, "Okay, Law. I will forgive you and since you explained what happened and your explanation of why you did what you did with your words of wisdom, I decided I will stay, as a member of the Heart Pirates, after all.", as you smiled and winked at him. He became relieved as he thanked you for your forgiveness.

Eversince you and Trafalgar D Law had an understanding, he started including you on more of his adventures with his crew, even if they constantly teased him about you. After a while, the Strawhats, including the captain of the Strawhats, Luffy noticed your captain with you in public and he had it figured out you and Law are also in a relationship together, as well. Unlike Law's crew, Luffy didn't teased him about you, which had Law relieved.

As months passed by, one night for Law to avoid his other crewmembers' teasing being the reason of hitting his other members (like Nami hits Luffy, Zoro, etc...), without he crew knowing, he snuck in your room, so he can give you quiet kisses and cuddles. That night was definitely relaxing for you and Law both. Luckily for Law, by the time Bepo and the rest of the crew woke up, both him and you woke up, afterwards quietly sneaking out of your room.

The End

I decided to write a fanfic about a One Piece character and I decided to write about, non other than Trafalgar D Law. He's definitely my 2nd favorite One Piece character and I have been wanting to write about him for a long time. So I do hope, as much as, writing this fanfic about Law, made my day, that this fanfic made your day, my Tumblr Peeps😁👍

*Fun Fact: Those who are curious who is my #1 favorite One Piece character is, my #1 favorite character of One Piece is definitely Roronoa Zoro

🗡️😁⚔️

#trafalgar law #law trafalgar #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar law x y/n #trafalgar law x reader #one piece fanfiction #angst #comfort #one piece fluff

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shyrose57 · 11 months

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I've made like three new life smp posts in a row today, and I'm sorry, but I gotta. I watched more episodes, I'm only doing what I must.

Im just gonna like, chunk a bunch of my trains of thought in a single post and hope for the best, honestly.

Literally Martyn is the best, followed up by Sparrow, but anyway-

I think??? It'd be hilarious if the Colin-y was just. convinced that Martyn was just some fucked up creeper, and that's why they're friendly. Like, they all stay in the mountain, so Martyn shows up, he's vaguely blue, clearly cold, and has fur. Clearly that equals fellow creeper. So they just adopt him into the group, and that's why they all decided to pile into his base. Their new friend cant fit into the old den, so they move into the big new den. Or maybe the cave was their home first and his decision to live there cemented his creeper status. Martyn doesn't know why these particular mobs have just decided to be passive, and he's beginning to think he's never going too.

I also like the idea of Martyn being really new to being a hybrid?? Like he's clearly not used to his powers, sort of, right??? So what if he just like, recently manifested these traits. And even just recently showed up in the area, even. Maybe Sparrow could know him, or something.

If he messes up his timing and unfreezes before he hits the ground, is it gonna be like he shattered?? Just like, breaks into a million pieces right before his respawn, that melt into snowflakes. Think of the potential. Think of the angst. An icesicle shattering upon the earth.

Also, and this concept has been eating me alive, has there been a Snowgrave!Martyn yet, now that he has snow powers. Can anyone point me there?? Because like, with his current lore, a Watcher deciding it wanted to possess one of its fellows, or even just a Winner and snagging up Martyn in its games would be amazing to read about. His power slowly growing as servermates disappear, taking more and more hearts each time,, and he doesn't know why. And then, eventually there's only three. His snow buries someone alive. He feels himself die with them, from maybe his own frost, or the possessed player deciding he's outlived his use and doing away with him. Then there's just one.

Katherine is a human. I have been?? Crawling up the wall since I found out. I haven't even finished her episode. I don't know if she even survives it. I do not care.

So, let's set a background where, obvious exceptions aside, everyone has sort of grown up together, even if maybe distantly. And theyre all different species, with different abilities and needs and instincts.

And Katherine is human. Humans are social. How many traits and habits do you think she'd sort of absorb from everyone.

What if she was like, all the hybrids basic idea of human, and she forgets she's human herself half the time.

I am. Desperate for a fic where Katherine meets Sparrow. Or where everyone sort of knows her, and walk into meeting Sparrow with the idea that he's gonna be similar to her, and thus, similar to them. And just get smacked in the face with how different they are.

Give me a Katherine who's spent so long around people who aren't human that she just doesn't really clock that that's what she is.

Given that new life randomly rolls you an origin,, what's the chances of Sparrow having one already that he's gonna start 'manifesting'. Do you think its a bird. I need him to be a bird. At least once.

What if he dies and to come back as a phoenix or something. That would be so cool??.

What if like, fic wise, nobody's sure if humans are included in the respawn mechanics. If they come back at all. I think that'd be fun to explore. Everyone looking out a bit more for their human servermates. The angst potential of one of them dying and returning under this premise.

Also, and this just occurred to me, the humans are space orcs approach? I'd love to see that in a fic. Sparrow and Katherine just being weird and ridiculous by hybrid standards.

#new life smp

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stevetonyweekly · 11 months

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SteveTony Weekly - May 28th

Hello, darling readers! I am so sorry I missed last week. I meant to put together something ahead of time and then--didn’t have a chance. BUT! Life is starting to settle down. I’m in my new house and my kids are out of school for the summer which means I have time to return to my favorite things--reading and writing! So let’s start with a little bit of fic. Don’t forget to leave comments/kudos for your favs!

~*~

Memorial by ani_bester

Tony takes Steve to see the WWII Monument in Washington

Memorial by hanyou_elf

Here rests in honored glory an American Soldier known but to God.

Steve visits Arlington's Tomb of the Unknown Soldier in lieu of visting the tombs of those he's lost.

Another Thing Coming Undone by nightrider101

Written for the following prompt: After the Chitauri invasion, Tony gets sick but ignores it. So it gets worse. Somehow Steve ends up the first of the team to move into the tower. He notices something is wrong and ends up taking care of Tony after realizing there is no one else around to do it.

Where There Is Desire by KandiSheek

The cave that Steve and Tony stupidly get themselves trapped in demands a sacrifice of innocence to set them free. Steve offers to sacrifice his virginity.

Tony fucking loves hates magic.

All Our Yesterdays by sheron

Endgame spoilers!

Tony and Steve travel into the past and find hope for the future.

(Look, canon blessed us with the setup for a concussion and I am merely a grateful conduit.)

The Minor Fall, the Major Lift by jukeboxhound

"Jesus, Steve, it's not like I went diving in the Mariana Trench, I'm fine." Totally fine, and if he's shaking a little and can't quite bring himself to stop touching the arc reactor, whatever, no one's perfect.

(This is how they piece it together and make it work.)

Poster Child by sabrecmc

Tony likes the new poster of Captain America. A LOT.

Cracked Hearts Under Iron Ribs by XtaticPearl

Rhodey is away for almost six months now and comes to meet Tony after the mission. He doesn't understand the domesticity of the whole Tower and unknowingly sets off a whole truck of insecurities which make Tony crawl back into being a Stark instead of just Tony. The team is not at all happy and Rhodey joins them in trying to figure out a way to help their resident genius feel better in his skin.

Bruised Ribs With A Side Of Flirting by pensversusswords

Prompt via anon: "We got in separate bar fights downtown and now we're waiting in the ER comparing stories."

AKA two beat up dweebs make starry eyes at each other.

The Fortunate Isles by Kiyaar

The difference between them, Tony thinks, is that Steve made plans. Tony had contingencies.

This is a contingency.

Every Now and Then I Fall Apart by Sineala

When Tony gets hit by a truth spell, the consequences aren't what anyone expected. They're sure not what Tony expected. He wishes he could stop telling his teammates about all the medical problems he tries to hide. As long as he doesn't open his mouth and reveal his secret feelings for Steve, or all his secret inadequacies as a human being, though, everything's going to be fine. And Tony's good at keeping secrets... or so he thinks. But maybe Steve knows him better than he knows himself. And just because Tony believes something, that doesn't make it the truth.

Questioning Reality by Captain_Panda

"Nothing's been the same since New York."

Nightmares. It's the nightmares that are eating away at Tony the most.

A post-Chitauri fic where Steve Rogers fills a much-needed void in Tony Stark's life, and both of them confront their own demons.

Follow You to the Stars (and Beyond) by navaan

In the aftermath of saving the world from Thanos, a new era is dawning for the team called Avengers. Steve has stepped down as Captain America, Tony has taken a space vacation - and he too is making plans for his retirement. What better time than now to take a road trip through space?

Meet Again by dirigibleplumbing

It's been 5 months since Steve and Tony last saw each other in Siberia, and Tony has just resurfaced after being missing for several weeks. Through a series of emails and text messages, they work to figure out what their friendship is going to look like in the future. But first, they have a lot of the past to contend with. And for some reason Tony keeps bringing up the topic of soulmates.

love me like a sinner by ArabellaAM

“So,” he says in the end, attracting Steve’s gaze towards him. “Is that everything you wanted?”

It’s only then —when he swears he can feel Steve’s breath tickling his cheek— that he realizes how close they actually are. So close the hunger in those blue eyes is undeniable, just as it’s undeniable Steve is no longer looking at him in the eye, but rather to his lips.

“Not really,” Steve says, voice raw and thick, as his eyes move quickly to Tony’s annular finger before returning to his lips.

Tony tilts his head and asks, in a tone that sounds more like a dare, “then what are you waiting for?”

Steve doesn’t actually answer; it’s Tony that makes an educated guess as he tries to grasp for air once Steve dips his head and drowns in his lips.

Or, Steve visits Tony after five years and it's not the salvation of the world he's after.

Armistice (The Nothing Else Matters Remix) by Sineala

It's 1944. Captain America lies dreaming, trapped in his own mind, and only Tony Stark can save him. But this is no mere Marvels adventure, as Tony finds when he enters Steve's dreams. Tony is confronted with dreams of superheroes, an imagined future fantastic and terrifying in equal parts, and a Steve Rogers who knows both too much and nothing at all about him. But they're just dreams. The war is what's real... isn't it?

My Heart's Quiet Home by alexcat, ralsbecket

When Pepper wants to end their marriage, Tony finds the other great love of his life.

We're On The Edge Right Now by MassiveSpaceWren, Nixie_DeAngel

“Steve Rogers, at your service, Mister Stark.”

Tony’s lips quirked up into a bright, almost teasing like grin, “I’m sure you are, Rogers, I’m sure you are.”

Steve could feel a blush work its way up his neck to his face, but before he could even open his mouth to retort, Pepper jumped in, easily redirecting the conversation before insisting on escorting Steve back down to drop him off at HR.

#stevetony weekly #stony #stony weekly #stevetony fic rec #fic rec #rec list #stevetony #stony fic #stony fic rec #steve rogers #tony stark #iron man #captain america #fanfic

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ageless-soul-au · 1 year

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i am desperate for some hyrule thoughts and content rn 🥺😭 might i have but a crumb?

Assorted lore of our favorite 'fey-blooded' hero!!

Hyrule was raised by fairies as a changeling exchange. They were stolen as a child from a couple in Calatia (taking only that idea from the Valiant comics and no other lore) and raised by the fae in Lesser Hyrule. Fairies flock to them and they always carry sugar water. The fairy spell is actually pretty euphoric for them now that they think about it, and though the fae knew that they were raised by fairies even without the spell (they can just tell bc that much magic exposure from a young age changes a person), actually becoming a fairy feels like a nice piece of home.

(They know that fairies can be fucked up little creatures and they were lucky to not be eaten as a baby hdgxgdhdn. Sorry Time, Navi probably wasn't as normal as you thought. Hyrule and Fae can probably handshake with having seen the aftermath of fairies eating meat (animals... etc), to which the fairies around them noted they shouldn't do this where they can stumble across it anymore bc they will then have a crying and violently ill child on their hands!!! Also the old man in Zelda 1 was probably fey, just saying.)

The fairies gave Hyrule a very high level of patience but a very low tolerance for like. Shenanigans. Hyrule is the Ruler of ‘If It Sucks, Hit Da Briks’. Hence why they’ll stick around for a teammate in obvious gay panic (despite how ridiculous it is) but crawl out of a window when people start shouting.

Even though they don't live with fairies anymore and have no real reason to do this, they likely have a habit of introducing themself in a specific way as to not 'give' their name to anyone. Like they'd say "You can call me Hyrule and use they/them for me," rather than "My name is Hyrule" etc etc.

Hyrule has some. Interesting notions about efficient use of materials (see tunic construction) and their taste in food is.... eclectic (they have tried to make tea out of most edible plants with varying success). They think freshly turned dirt and petrichor smells like home. They probably have some really interesting uses for fairy dust too, not just the tonics in botw.

Poppy (loz 1 Zelda) probably had a crush on them at some point but it faded when she realized they didn't really like people like that. They're friends now though, everything's good.

Post Zelda 2 (Adventure of Link), the Zelda that slept for 5ever (Marigold) was PISSED that no one even tried to help her and instead waited for the triforce to appear on Hyrule's hand, so she said fuck being a princess. She wanted to become a hermit, and Hyrule helped her get set up in a cottage a little ways away from a village and taught her some things so she'd be okay on her own (they had to talk her out of living in a cave since she knew Hyrule had done it). She and Poppy helped Hyrule with reading and writing so they could exchange letters and keep track of each other.

#ask #Joy beloved!!!! Sorry this was late but we hope it was worth it #Note: we haven't combed confidential for Hyrule introducing themself this way so if u see something that contradicts this no u didn't 💚#asau hyrule #asau fae #asau poppy #ASAU marigold

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seldaryne · 3 months

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somewhere in the back of my mind i'm piecing together conversational fragments that must have happened post-cazador fight & post-orin fight (+ all that came immediately after) respectively. i don't think it'd be untouched until post-game, but probably would take place closer to the final fight. something something the calm before the storm, insomnia-induced contemplation, etcetera.

i'm not 100% sure on the tone of everyone's emotions yet. what i do know for sure is that when astarion asks velrith if she would have fought him the same way she did cazador (he's seen what she can do & knows there would probably be a decent chance of her success, which is like. at the very least a mildly frightening thought lmao), she's going to answer him truthfully.

yes, she would have, no hesitation whatsoever. & he kind of figured that would be the case, but also wants to know why. it's in the past, he's definitely not going to go out of his way to set up a new version of the ritual for himself so it's all conjecture anyway, but there's enough curiosity to justify it.

& she was still pretty removed from everything at that point, so it wasn't completely impossible to imagine her stepping back to just allow it either. it's not exactly like there's a blueprint for what the average person would do in the same situation, especially when he wasn't objectively incorrect about that type of power providing safety.

there was a case either way, but even she was pretty sure it was logically wrong to let 7000 people die for that from a moral standpoint. alexithymia aside, that's pretty obvious. she's still not even sure that 7000 spawn would be as dangerous as an ascended vampire, & would probably point out that statistically speaking, a decent number of them will probably end up destroyed before they become a threat. letting anyone ascend just seemed like an objectively worse path across the board, and while she might have a memory of mostly holes & miss out on a number of social norms, she isn't stupid by any stretch.

there's also the issue of her oath. he gets it as far as knowing it's extremely important to her & she essentially wouldn't be who she is now, but he'll probably never get it past that. in the timeline where she was personally in favour of ascension but still valued her oath, she would have made herself follow it. one of them was not going to survive that encounter, simple as that. which isn't a pleasant truth to hear, but he knows that she's definitely not lying either.

she loves him in her own way, as intensely as she knows how (which is actually quite a lot, but is very much something that requires you to know what you're looking for to actually see it), but that promise she made to an ideal, that single idea that she was able to re-build an entire identity around was going to hold more weight in that situation. there would have been no justifying it if she let him go on, no way she could crawl her way out of oathbreaking a second time (to say nothing of how badly it broke her when she made the mistake that led to the first incident).

she didn't even remember her own name after orin tried to cave her skull in & left her for dead, but she sure remembered the oath she swore before bhaal upended her life. to her, that means something. fighting him would have been terrible, yes, but it would also have been a familiar flavour of tragedy & not the same hefty blow to her sense of being. she would unhappily survive after that, probably alone by choice, but alive. self-betrayal wouldn't see the same ending.

& i don't see him exactly feeling comforted by this, because it's a lot to unpack, but he also wouldn't have bothered to ask if he wasn't able to digest the truth either (she's also historically a really, really bad liar & there would be no question if she was actually lying. it's actually embarrassing to watch her try).

the dedication makes so much sense, though. after the night she'd completely lost control, the only thing that really gave her anything resembling solace was the promise that there would be someone to end her if there was no chance she'd return to her senses. not platitudes, not gentleness, but the knowledge that someone would be willing & able to destroy her before someone else got hurt. (admittedly, that interaction left him feeling a bit weird in an inarticulate sort of way.)

& another thing--if they're having this conversation, she's also managed to piece together the memory of when she decided to pursue her oath, & more importantly, why.

rejecting bhaal had given her a notable change in her overall demeanour & energy, but absolutely nothing drastic. it doesn't destroy the typical disconnection she has with the majority of the world or the feeling of viewing everything from the other side of a glass barrier. that otherness in knowing there was something missing by the standards of her peers led her to value her body as a tool early on. so what if you can't make conversation without seeing the other person struggle not to visibly recoil? so what if you can't feel happy in a way that doesn't feel false? devotion to an ideal meant she would still meet a standard of goodness, could still serve a function & if she did it well enough, other shortcomings could be overlooked entirely. certain things were beyond her reach, but being useful and functional wasn't.

(even that was ripped away, and she learned that no matter how badly she wanted to change herself, she'd only ever been intended as an instrument of death. she didn't enjoy a second of it, but she's always been a tool that needed a guiding hand of some sort. the reaction to that much death shouldn't have been apathy, but even that felt too difficult to muster up after a while. whatever hope she had at at least being able to serve the people around her in a way that made up for her deficits was gone.)

no real messy conclusion here. he sits with the knowledge that she would have killed him out of necessity, but those same reasons are also a big part of why she was unquestioningly ready to aid him in the first place. she tells him it genuinely wouldn't have mattered even if he despised her for some reason on a personal level; he brought to her attention a man responsible for the untold suffering of thousands of people, and that meant she had an obligation to become involved. not exactly the romantic ideal of a knight in shining armour, but the consistency is terrifying & splendid in its own way.

honestly, i don't even know if he would know how he felt until he has some time to think about it. the way she functions internally is just so insanely alien to him sometimes, despite her general willingness to plainly answer more or less any questions he might have. the explanations work for how, not always why. he gets the bodily disconnect, of course, and the idea that you're only as good as your last performance. & his experience with other paladins tells him that they're generally kind of odd, but not in the way she was.

he wants to know why, then, if she'd always seen herself as someone who had such a massive blindspot, did she dedicate herself to something inherently selfless? usually, that sort of decision came out of emotional connection (not to be insensitive, if there's even a way to dance around that type of insecurity delicately). & she just sort of shrugs, as if the conclusion was obvious. she could always sense that there was something incomplete & incorrect in her, and if she couldn't fix it, then she could at least make up for it in other ways.

(this is probably the most glaringly obvious example of how different their internal workings are. he cannot for the life of him imagine continually putting himself on the line for strangers like that voluntarily, knowing he'd be getting so little out of it beyond meeting some imaginary and/or arbitrary standard. she's never even considered it to be that, on the other hand, and knows that causing suffering takes approximately the same amount of effort. better to at least have someone benefitting from her existence, if she should exist at all. there's still a part of him that feels like he's owed something for all of his suffering--she's still not even certain that what she's experienced would even qualify as suffering. if it is, shouldn't she tolerate it willingly because of what she is & what her purpose was?)

he'd propositioned her at the tiefling party for a few reasons. one was, of course, the need to secure his safety via her enamoured trust. not a single one of those interactions followed his usual script. yes, she went along with them, but never in a way that he felt stemmed from unbearable lust or otherwise being completely enamoured. he'd picked up on the involuntary detachment too without realizing, but it made him nervous. the second reason was more immediate; the staring.

in hindsight, he is now aware that the people watching is a harmless (if disconcerting when you're the one her eyes are on) habit of hers, and it's not just him who ends up targeted either. she's fascinated by the mechanics of someone who's able to work a crowd, who can effortlessly draw strangers in & figure out where things go from there. body language, vocal tone, everything is observed. she's moved past envy at this point in her life, she tells him, but she suspects that probably wasn't so as a child. there's a very hazy recollection of trying to imitate the way some neighbouring girls spoke to each other when they played outside, ending in confused disappointment when her efforts were laughed at as they ran off without her.

he could talk to people, though. maybe not always as well as he did now (everyone had an awkward learning phase, he figures, even if he can't recall any similar memories of ostracization during his formative years), and that wasn't saying he enjoyed the vast majority of those interactions either, but he could do it & do it well. so well, in fact, that her observational fascination had been inevitable. what he thought was intense suspicion was actually just a curious audience, and her (correctly understood) bafflement when he'd propositioned her had also retroactively made a lot of sense. she'd seen no reason for someone like her to have a place in his performances, but was curious enough to go along with it to see how everything looked from this side.

(everything worked out anyway, but he still feels a little stupid for being that off-base when she'd never even thought of hiding her motivations.)

there's also so much to unpack about withers dragging her back from the dead. she didn't even question it being a 'no peace due to the weight of your sins' scenario (which... i'm not certain it was entirely?). the only alternative she might be convinced of is knowing the reality of her strength and how valuable it would be for the upcoming fight. stepping into the actual gameplay for a second but she had orin down single-handedly in 1.5 turns. just over a minute of combat. that's not nothing, and would almost definitely be horrifying to watch happen in real-time. yes, that's your friend, yes, that's your lover, but it's a good thing she's not your enemy or else you might also be reduced to a pile of viscera.

i'd say this is probably the point where the lack of value she has for herself is crystal clear. not purposefully, but he's had some pretty pressing matters on the brain & didn't catch on while his focus was elsewhere (like not dying or being recaptured, for example). & she's also actually sort of... passive in a lot of ways? she's got a code she adheres to and acts accordingly in situations where it applies, and naturally there were some pretty strong reactions about bhaal's connection with her. but beyond that she tends to accept things as they come to her, operating without solid intentions or a notion of preference until after the fact.

this gets me to another thing i'll probably have more thoughts on later (or more in-depth anyway). him understanding & functioning for the majority of his existence with his worth measuring up to what he could do for cazador specifically. how good he is at reading people, using that to mold himself into someone that they'd be head-over-heels for in one evening and how easily those habits still show themselves presently & he doesn't know if he'll ever be able to unlearn that instinctive reaction, compared to her complete inability to hide anything. she will never be charming, or smooth, or even be able to do the briefest impression of 'normal.' people don't like her, even without bhaal's influence on her actions; there's still something that always flags as subconsciously wrong to them. and she'll accept the treatment anyway because it seems to be the best she can achieve. he knows how to have people falling at his feet with minimal effort; she's consistently surprised when anyone likes her at all.

(there's a parallel/connection here that i'm grasping towards but haven't quite defined yet & it has something to do with physical autonomy/reclamation of the self and how that can manifest.)

she also wasn't surprised when he confessed to having less than honourable intentions about their initial hookup. she didn't know the exact reasons behind it, of course, but she assumed it might just have been his own curiosity or even boredom that drove him. lightly insulting but another thing that explains her behaviour at the time. it was still something she wanted to engage in, but there was never any assumption that it was something more than skin-deep & honestly i think he might have been a bit miffed to learn that? in a way that isn't even entirely logical, since it also means someone didn't just fall for the ruse (& wanted to be around him anyway). but also: someone didn't fall for it, meaning there was some sort of hole in the armour, some type of vulnerability that gave it away. knowing now that he wouldn't have been persecuted doesn't mean this is any less of an anxious thought.

she's not aloof & never actually has been. she doesn't think she has that desire to connect because it's never been reciprocated, but it's there & it's strong. she'll take whatever she can to try and figure out what's missing in her, and this desire has been exploited before without her knowing. if bhaal's control made all her efforts pointless, able to control her body & override her own thoughts for the sake of murder, then there wasn't anything left to fight for. having her memories taken was inherently violating, but also probably the only way she was ever going to gain a desire to live for herself in any capacity. there's something just a bit extra tragic about someone who's never been offered anything remotely self-worth building to the degree they think 'hollow' is a positive state.

anyway, this definitely isn't a happy conversation for them, but it's important & revealing. it's also her first time really vocalizing what she thinks of herself, so that's pretty big too even if it's indirect. i also get the sense he might be even somewhat paradoxically angry. not at her, but more just the whole situation & the fact that these are the lengths she feels she has to go to for... what, exactly? the off chance that someone might speak to you like a person instead of an anomaly to avoid? it's gone on so long now, he knows she's never even considered that there should be an alternative. he's having to build himself back up again & it's been varying levels of struggling to do so, but he's never actually considered what starting from total 0 would look like. evidently, it looks like not even understanding what the issue is in the first place, or that it exists at all. he doesn't know if one is worse, or if they're just two types of the same hell.

mix this in with some guilt-tinged relief, though; if she's just piecing together herself now, then she's also not judging any of his own missteps. her tendency towards acceptance could probably use some more discretion on who receives it, but it's that same quality that allows her to gracefully deal with whatever he throws at her. if she doesn't know how, she will learn, not just for him but so she has the skill in the future. stubbornness can be a problem, but tempered with humility & patience? a lot of good can be done. he's done/said very little that she hasn't been able to take in stride and add to a growing list of experiences. it's also not like he's never crossed a line before, and it was made very explicit when it happened. his attempt to make light of the oathbreaking situation had backfired terribly, and that was apparent the very millisecond it happened.

but every time he asks something of her, or reveals a little more of himself, or dares to express discomfort, there's never been a need to push for it. how fear-filled had he been, wanting to crawl out of his own skin, when he'd choked over wanting to step back from sex? he'd expected something. disappointment, most likely. perhaps anger. a demand to be the exception. definitely not a thoughtful look while the request was digested before agreeing to it shortly after, only asking a question to clarify if he meant a break from physical contact entirely, or just certain kinds? & he just blinked back for a solid few seconds, processing how easy that was, how it didn't need all of the build-up or trepidation. ask & receive. that's it. & he asks why, because it's all he can actually think to say in the moment instead of an answer to her question, which produces an equally baffled because you... asked? what other response would there be?

as if no other option existed. as if what he said was completely reasonable and not something the majority of people he'd interacted with would have taken as a personal slight. the only concession she'd needed was clarification. and because he couldn't leave well enough alone, he did eventually manage to wheedle out that yes, should he have been turned off entirely from any sort of physicality whatsoever, she would have been somewhat disappointed (expected, honestly, especially since her recent discovery of general touch being something she craved after years of denial), but still wouldn't have pressed.

while grateful at the time (still grateful now, actually), he can't pinpoint if this was purely for his benefit, or just another side of how quickly she could deny herself anything that brought her the slightest amount of pleasure. it's not innocence, because it doesn't make sense in any world to apply that word to bhaal's former favourite, and she's aware of things even if she fails in their application. perhaps it's just the natural result of conditioning & neglect, a lack of recognition pushing her to accept scraps in place of something more thoughtful.

& sitting here now with her, learning that the one thing she had when everything else was stripped away was actually something she took up out of a desperate need to make up for the fact that she was simply born as herself is...

well. it's something, that's for sure.

because it's still important to her & likely will be until she's dead. it brings comfort and direction, providing a framework that she can use to navigate other people on occasion. he's not even going to broach the topic in a potential shift in interests. it wouldn't go anywhere or do anything beyond making her pull away. he'd been made to feel all sorts of shamefully inadequate over the last two hundred years, but he could at least sit with the knowledge that he had a few decades before all of that. it wasn't much comfort, especially with the understanding that he would be dealing with the ripple effects for an undetermined amount of time, patching the damage he could & learning to accept what he couldn't. but he knew enough to be able to mourn what had been lost.

so perhaps the solution here isn't to remove it, but to just... introduce more things into her life for variety. he's not sure yet, nor does he think he's really the best candidate to help either. (ironic, since she feels like she's the least qualified person in camp to help anyone with anything, but here we are.) & that's if a solution is even necessary here. perhaps it really is just a matter of time before there's a shift. she's been free of bhaal's influence now for... what, a week? possibly less? which leaves years to sort things out after, assuming they survive this anyway. a lot could change in that time.

another item on the post-tadpole to-do list, another bridge to cross when they arrive.

#bg3 #astarion x durge #i think i ended up combining a few stray thoughts here.#its def not developed enough yet to my liking if i wanted to write fic tho #might come back to it might just rework it for something else whomst knows #anyway. mentally ill thinking about her path to fleshing out herself as a person for the first time.#not even grasping the depth of the damage because to understand that would be to sign off on your own destruction.#the depersonalization is protection in her case.#which likely ties into why she does just accept certain things at face value. its just subconscious.#oc tag #velrith #couldnt get that one suzanne rivecca quote out of my head either #'to make up the fact that it's me.' yeah. Yeah.#she Does feel that way & doesn't realize just how much she does.

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wickedsrest-rp · 1 year

Text

Name: Leticia Torres Species: Balam Occupation: Owner of The Vinyl Countdown Age: 30 Years Old Played By: Dawn Face Claim: Emeraude Toubia

"Music is my refuge. I could crawl into the space between the notes and curl my back to loneliness."

When people spoke of their families, they spoke of their homes, of the pictures on the wall that would tilt haphazardly, of the dishes passed down through the generations that were tucked away in the cabinet until special holidays. They spoke of things that were generally relatable, of homes with their families in it, places of safety, and while Leticia could relate to all those feelings of belonging — she always included music in hers. Music was like coming home. Music was a piece of her family that would be with her no matter where she stood. On stage a thousand miles from home, or humming to herself while doing chores. Music was always there.

Her father, Sebastian, repaired instruments and offered music lessons in a small studio he owned on the pier. And it was in that shop that Leticia would grow up. And in that shop, where she sat on a stool behind the register with her dirty shoes up on the counter, is where she’d film the viral video that would mark the start of her career. She had been recording in the backroom meant for lessons with one of the new pieces of equipment her father had gotten. She filmed herself singing only a portion of one of her favorite songs and then posted it to Twitter, tagging the artist and her father’s business location.

By sheer luck, Leticia’s Friday night post was retweeted by the original artist and, from there, it had been shared a few thousand times and liked over a million times. By Sunday morning, Leticia was featured on the local news, as was her father’s shop. And from there, it was a whirlwind of sponsors reaching out to Leticia, thinking that she was an up-and-coming influencer, but in a sea of overwhelming dms and comments, she received a message from a popular cover artist on YouTube inviting her to do a collab with them.

In interviews, Leticia would claim that she set up a powerpoint presentation for her parents and convinced them with considerable begging to allow her to travel on her own to the city in order to record. In reality, her mother, Paloma, was fiercely against it. Her parents had hidden their natural sides from the humans around them, but with all this excitement, her mother was worried that Leticia would lose control and reveal the balam within them. And a public transformation would be devastating for the family.

Leticia’s argued they had chosen to live among humans for the longest time already, and in public school, Leticia had faced varying kinds of stress and excitement with no incident. She could do this. Her father was the first one to cave, agreeing that he and Paloma had taken risks when they were her age in order to better their lives. And after a night of silence from Paloma, she agreed over breakfast, but demanded that Leticia promise that at the first sign of something being off or too overwhelming for her, that she’d leave and come back home immediately.

A short flight later, and Leticia was in Los Angeles, and over the next week, she spent the majority of the time polishing the song they were filming. And after that? They recorded a Q&A session with Leticia, pulling questions from the comments. People wanted to know what her plans were for future music, if she wrote her own songs, who she was as a person, if she had signed with anyone yet - it was a whirlwind of positive reinforcement that changed every dream Leticia had about the future. After she said farewell to her new friends, Leticia spent the entire trip back home trying to organize her thoughts to convince her parents to support a career in music.

While her parents were hesitant to agree, a yes was a yes, even if it was accompanied with a scowl.

Leticia posted several other cover songs and some of her original work on YouTube. And before she graduated from high school she had nearly a million subscribers and an agent. Her career blew up quickly. And the stress? Mounting just as quickly.

Each new success came with more work that Leticia had to do behind the scenes. It started with recording music and being present on social media, two things that Leticia could juggle with ease. But as her fame mounted, she added learning sets for tour, interviews, and all the time spent traveling. Leticia had little room to exist off stage. Though Exhausted, Leticia refused to slow down. To her fans, nothing had changed. Leticia was just as vibrant as ever and kept up the chaotic pace she had set for herself when she was a teenager, quietly scared that slowing down would be the undoing of her entire career.

New York City, everything changed.

As the opening act came to an end, Leticia had gotten a phone call from her mother. Her father was dead. And before the grief could reach her, another bomb. A ranger. They were being hunted. The story was compressed into a few short sentences. Her father had taken it upon himself to distract the ranger so her mother could get away. Paloma apologized, and the call ended.

Her father was dead. Her mother was on the run. Leticia’s pulse raced, the room spun, and safety was starting to feel… animalistic. She shifted on stage for the world to see. Whatever control she had left over herself, over her life, Leticia used it to choose to run. Fleeing the stage and the city, Leticia didn’t stop until she couldn’t force her legs to move anymore. Stumbling through a forest, Leticia found herself in Wicked’s Rest, Maine.

A fresh layer of grief overcame Leticia. One that wouldn’t be so easily sorted. She needed to find a place of safety and to find her mother. Maybe fate, or God, or destiny - whatever was pulling the strings here, would have mercy on Leticia and she’d find answers and help.

Character Facts:

Personality: Protective, loyal, focused, impulsive, stubborn, charismatic, shameless, quick-tempered

As a musician, Leticia had some difficulty nailing down the tone she wanted for her music. She had, at first, only done covers as a way of showcasing her abilities, but when she was writing her own music, she drifted toward the pop rock genre.

Since leaving her rockstar career behind, Leticia has found herself gravitating toward nature, spending more time in the forests around Wicked's Rest. She's unsure if it's because of her recent loss of control that's made these long walks more appealing, but regardless, she's found peace between the trees.

While she keeps the world at a cool distance these days, those closest to her would find a fiercely loyal and protective friend. There is little that Leticia wouldn't do for someone she cares about, and little she wouldn't sacrifice to protect them. Much like her father, it's always been in her nature to be protective, damn the cost to herself.

The Vinyl Countdown is three buildings in one, a business, a radio station, and a home. During the daylight hours, the store is open to sell an assortment of items, all musically related. In the back room behind the counter is a booth to run the station: Beat It Up, run by Leticia most days, but open for local students who’d like to dabble in broadcasting. The second floor is a dedicated apartment where Leticia lives.

She's fluent in both English and Spanish.

#Emeraude Toubia #retired

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guzmascanary · 8 months

Text

A Sick Mabosstiff, Herba Mystica, and a Skwovet (one shot)

Pairing: none (Arven and Mabosstiss vs The World)

Tags (as posted on AO3): angst, pre-game, non canon compliant (at least some elements are), mentions of mediocre parenting, mentions of pokémon being sick, childhood memories (good and bad), emotional breakdown

Wordcount: 4,351

Note: I said I would post this a few days ago so here I am. This is full of angst, I poured all of my parental issues in this piece.

Arven sighed in frustration and pushed the book he was reading away from him. He had read the same paragraph three times now, nothing stuck in his brain. His attention was elsewhere.

His gaze shifted to the Mabosstiff lying on his bed. That’s all he did these days: sleep.

“Spray him with hyper potions once a day and he should be back on his feet,” had said the nurse to him. “I can also give you a list of berries which would help with his general health.”

It’d been two weeks now and Mabosstiff’s health had shown no sign of improvement. Guilt crawled its way into his chest. He had lied to the nurse when she had asked what had happened. He said Mabosstiff lost a pokémon fight. Well, it was half a lie anyway. He did lose a fight but Arven was not sure if it was against a pokémon. He did not have the answer for what he had seen in Area Zero. He often laid awake at night, trying to understand what had happened but no logical explanation would come to him.

Guilt was quickly washed away by anger. His hands curled up into fists and his jaw clenched, hurting his gums.

“That’s her fault and no one else,” he thought to himself. “I wanted to see her, is that so bad that a son wishes to see his mother when she refuses to answer his texts and calls?”

Arven tried to push the simmering anger out of his body with a deep exhale as he pushed himself up. The noise his desk chair made against the floor as he stood back up resonated loudly in the quiet room. Arven winced and his eyes darted at Mabosstiff.

No reaction.

He tried swallowing the painful ball stuck in his throat with no success.

Carefully, he walked towards the sick pokémon and crouched in front of him. He pushed a few strays of his fur away from his eyes, they were closed. The tiny hope that Arven was holding near to his heart to see the rich yellow colour of his dear pokémon was crushed. A grimace pulled on his features. Tears were threatening to breach the barrier of his eyelashes and roll down his cheeks.

His research had not been as fruitful as Arven had hoped. Most of the advice he had found urged him to go to the nearest pokémon centre which he had already done. Defeated, he was about to close the tab when two words caught his attention.

He fought them back, he was tired of crying.

Arven closed the abandoned book on his desk and carelessly threw it on his bed. He opened his laptop and began to hastily type on his keyboard, hoping to find a cure.

Herba Mystica.

Arven kept re-reading these two words, they sounded familiar. He looked away from the screen and rested his face on his open palm.

The knowledge that he had seen these words before was itching him; yet, he could not pinpoint when or where.

His brows were furrowed in concentration as he finally clicked the link.

Arven leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. The gears in his head working in fast motions. He had heard of Herba Mystica before, he was sure of it.

These rare condiments have great healing properties. They can be digested by both pokémon and humans alike. From the typical cold to the most serious illnesses, nothing can resist these mystical herbs. Each Herba Mystica has a different flavour and healing properties. As stated previously, they are rare and difficult to find. They’ve got a natural glow to them which makes them easy to spot in the darkest of caves; where one is most likely to find them. Beware as these plants are Titan Pokémon’s guilty pleasure. They love them but can agitate them if the said Titan Pokémon sought them in a weakened state.

Another minute had passed when it finally hit him.

His mother’s lab.

Displeasure spread on his features at the idea of going to his mother’s lab. It had been years since he had set a foot in there and he had no intention of going back in there anytime soon. Anything that reminded him of his mother was best left far away from him, especially after what had happened to him and Mabosstiff.

His thoughts were interrupted by a deep sigh coming from Mabosstiff. His gaze shifted back to where the pokémon was resting. Arven weighed his choices. His mother’s lab was a bitter place.

A bitter place filled with happy memories.

He had often helped his mother with her research, trying to connect with her and her interests. If he was not helping, he was sitting on the ground, piles of books surrounding him, his nose deep in the open book he was reading with a focus that even an earthquake would have not disturbed.

Mabosstiff, who was still a Maschiff at the time, would usually rest his head on his crossed legs, peacefully snoozing. The soft snoring of his pokémon and the fast typing of his mother on her keyboard had the ability to create the perfect relaxing atmosphere.

Fondness bloomed in Arven’s chest at the lovely memory. But, as it would often happen when Arven reminisced about his childhood, the warm feelings were quickly replaced by a cold bitterness when he was forced to snap back to the present. What was the point of reminiscing on his childhood when the one person who was a big actor in it had ghosted him. Why would he stay in the past when he had bigger problems to solve in the present?

Arven stood in front of the lighthouse that he had to call home for a while. His hands were deep in his pocket, one of his hands was holding Mabosstiff’s pokéball, bringing him the comfort he needed. He had made the decision to come back to the lighthouse. Mabosstiff’s health was more important than the strife he had with his mother. But now that he was standing in front of his childhood home, something was locking him into place. He squeezed the pokéball in his hand and inhaled deeply.

Arven brought his hand to his mouth, toying with his bottom lip. Was his hurt feelings worth letting them get in the way of finding a cure for Mabosstiff?

“He’s all you have,” thought Arven.

He let go of the breath he was holding and tentatively stepped forward. His foot was about to reach the ground when something hopped on top of his backpack. Startled, Arven whipped his entire body around, making whatever was on his backpack fall on the ground in the process. Confusion painted his features as his eyes landed on a Skwovet rolling back on his feet. The pokémon was shaking his head, a bit knocked out from the abrupt fall. Its fluffy tail moved in sync with his head. He looked as confused as Arven but for different reasons.

“What the-” started Arven. The pokémon looked back at him and tilted his head at him curiously.

“What do you want?” asked Arven, crossing his arms on his chest. “How did you even manage to jump this high?”

The Skwovet pushed himself on his hind legs and brought his tiny hands together, “skwo?”

“Listen, I don’t have the time nor the patience right now to deal with whatever your issue is,” said Arven exasperated.

He turned around and began walking away from the pokémon, determined to put some distance between him and the Skwovet. His hand was hovering over the door handle of his mother’s lab when something hit him on the back of the head, the projectile slid down his hair before dropping to the ground with a gross squelching sound.

Arven turned around once more to see a berry coated with saliva on the ground. His nose wrinkled in disgust. His hands curled into fists at his sides. Skwovet had retrieved one of the many berries from his cheek pouches and thrown it at him.

“You’re lucky Mabosstiff is too weak otherwise I would have no issues letting him out and scaring you off,” he said, stomping towards the pokémon.

The Skwovet was not impressed by Arven’s burst of anger. It stayed rooted on the ground as Arven towered over him, only its eyes moved up to look at him. They stared at each other for a painfully long minute. It seemed to be a lost battle, Arven was not backing down but neither was the normal-type pokémon.

Arven dropped his shoulders in defeat.

“What is it that you want?” he sighed out.

The Skwovet hopped around him and pushed himself on his hind legs again, eagerly pointing at Arven’s backpack.

Arven let out a heavy “ugh” as he realised why the Skwovet was pestering him. “Really?” he asked.

The pokémon said nothing and simply stared at him.

“All right…” he said. “But know that I’m not doing this in good faith, I just want you to leave me alone.”

He crouched down on one knee, sliding his backpack in front of him, “you’re not even starving with all of these berries in your cheeks. Berries, mind you, that you’re willing to throw at whoever doesn’t-”

Arven was cut off as the pokémon jumped head first in his bag. The force of it pushed him back and he landed on his buttcheeks with a muted “oof.”

“Hey!” shouted Arven, pushing himself on his knees. “Hey!” he repeated, grabbing the Skwovet by the fur on his back, “get out of my bag!”

After one hard pull, Arven finally managed to get the pokémon out of his bag. Yet, it slipped away from his grasp and hopped away from him. His hands were curled on his thighs as the pokémon stopped a couple of metres away and it began to chew on one of the ingredients it managed to steal.

A short exhale went out his nose as he looked at the mess on the ground. His backpack had leaned down with all of the frantic movements, his belongings had spilled out of it in the process. Among the several objects on the ground, there was an empty pokéball. Anger still simmering in his chest, Arven grabbed it, gazed up and threw it with force on Skwovet. The normal-type pokémon did not move an inch and got sucked into the pokéball.

Arven watched the pokéball twitching before going quiet with one last ting. He stood motionless, disbelief visible on his face. He had just caught a pokémon. A pokémon which was not Mabosstiff. He did not mean to, he did not want to. But here he was with a Skwovet in a pokéball that he threw.

He walked towards it and picked it up. The pokéball fit perfectly in the palm of his hand. He did not know how to feel, the only pokémon Arven ever had was Mabosstiff. He had no intention of changing that.

As he stared down at the ball in his hand, the actual reason as to why he was standing in front of the lighthouse came back at the forefront of his mind. He pocketed the pokéball, he could think about what to do with it later. He had more pressing matters to tend to.

The Skwovet incident had been a great distraction and had helped him process his feelings about his current situation. It was with a new confidence in his steps that Arven approached the door of his mother’s lab.

Arven was thankful that the said lab was fully separated from the living space the lighthouse had to offer. From what Arven knew, it had not been inhabited since him and his mother had moved out. The door handle felt cold in his hand as he grabbed it, it’s with one more deep sigh that he pushed the door open and stepped over the threshold of his mother’s lab.

After the door had clicked shut behind him, Arven scanned the area. The room was plunged into darkness. Only the tiny window above his mother’s desk casted a few weak rays of sunshine on the desk’s metal board, lighting up several stacks of paper scattered on the desk.

Staying for long hours in the lab had the habit of making him stir-crazy. He couldn’t help but softly chuckle at the memory of his mother reprimanding him for slamming the door on his way out after she had allowed him to go out with his pokémon; not bothering to tear her eyes away from the screen in front of her.

Arven had never liked how dark the lab was. The artificial light from the ceiling used to bring little to no comfort compared to what the sunlight could provide him.

He would never venture far away, favouring to go down the path leading to the beach by the lighthouse with Mabosstiff in tow. Poco Path was rarely the victim of an overcast sky. This phenomenon could be proven by the pokémon roaming around the area. The absence of clouds allowed rays of sunshine to hit Arven in the face, dotting it with freckles. He had always relished in the warm feeling of the powerful star on his skin.

Being near the ocean allowed for a soft breeze to caress his face as well, pushing a few strays of his hair, which would always drape over his right eye, away from his face. The same way his mother would when the affection she felt towards her son seeped through the thick wall she had built around herself. Arven had grown accustomed to being left on the other side of this wall.

He could taste and smell the saltiness of the oceanic air, reinvigorating his senses.

Mabosstiff, who had not evolved yet and had the never-ending energy and prey-drive of a young Maschiff, had the habit to chase after the Wingull present at the beach, making Arven laugh. He never got bored of seeing the pokémon flying away as Maschiff ran through the flock of birds.

All of these elements together brought him a sense of peace he rarely was granted to feel and he always made sure to enjoy to its fullest.

The lights implanted in the ceiling flickered on after he’d flicked the lightswitch on. Some of them were struggling to stay on and some of them did not turn on at all.

Arven’s love for the sun hadn’t faded as he grew up. To this day, he still took the time to go out and sunbathe whenever he felt down. Fondness washed over him with the lovely memories. It was reassuring to him to realise that he still had memories from his childhood that had not been completely wiped out by bad memories.

The bookcase on his left lit up as well in the corner of his eye, shifting his attention to it. It was an imposing bookcase, it contrasted greatly with the other pieces of furniture in the lab. It was made of wood, each row had a bar light to its edge, projecting a soft glow to the books behind it. It was the kind of furniture one would expect to see in a luxurious house, not in an abandoned, dark lab.

It was a difficult task, there were dozens and dozens of books available. His memory was failing him, he didn’t have a clue as to what the book looked like.

Arven drew a straight line on the thick layer of dust on one of the shelves, gathering some of it on the pad of his pointing finger. The dust felt greasy on his finger, making Arven’s nose wrinkle in disgust. He wiped his finger clean on his trousers and began his search.

The first three rows were fruitless, none of the books had the information he needed. That was until his eyes drifted to the fourth shelf and got caught by a scarlet book. Its bright colour was the odd one out among the other books on the shelf. With no second thought, Arven grabbed the book and pulled it towards him.

A dead weight dropped in his guts as the cover of the book was revealed to him. A pokémon was depicted on the front cover.

Koraidon.

Professor Sada conducted most of her research from her personal lab. Rare were the times when she was out and about in the Great Crater. Whether she was there or not, his mother was too engrossed in her research for Arven to tell the difference. Arven was left on his own either way, pushing him to learn to take care of himself. That was how he had found his potential as a cook and his interest in the great outdoors.

Arven swallowed thickly around the lump in his throat. His vision turned blurry as tears gathered on his waterlines. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the book. Pain spread in his chest as his eyes scanned the cover until they fell upon “Professor Sada” scribbled clumsily below the Legendary Pokémon. As though the book was credited under his mother’s name, Arven knew that she was not the author; one of her co-workers was. He - Heath, remembered Arven - had filled the book with information he had found while exploring the Great Crater of Paldea.

Through the hurdles of their daily lives, Professor Sada and her son had managed to build a routine. Arven found himself unwilling to remember what had disturbed this routine. The painful memories were still too raw to dive back into that period of his life. He did not want to remember when his mother had come home from her trip to the Great Crater with a pokémon he had never seen before. He did not want to remember the following weeks where he had to live in secrecy as his mother had explained to him that it was better this way, that people could not be made aware of her discovery yet.

Living in secrecy had proven to be even more difficult than how his mother and himself were used to living before. Yet, nothing could have prepared Arven for the consequences of Koraidon attacking a wild pokémon after it had managed to escape the lighthouse.

It would have not been an issue if there had not been several witnesses to Koraidon’s outburst. This unprecedented event pushed his mother to move to the Zero Lab indefinitely; the lab present in the deepest part of the Great Crater. Arven thought he knew what loneliness was, he thought he was used to it but he found a new definition of it as his mother started to go contactless for longer periods of time.

As time went on and his mother kept being silent on her part, an unsettling feeling started gnawing its way into Arven’s chest. He tried to ignore it, pretexting that his mother was too busy to contact him.

The ringing tones started to feel a little too familiar every time he tried to call her, leaving him to hang up with a sigh when he was greeted, yet again, with his mother’s voicemail. He had given up on leaving a voicemail a long time ago. His texts had the same treatment, they were left either unreplied or not delivered. He found himself growing resentful towards Koraidon and his mother.

The bolded, red “not delivered” notification under his recently sent text was mocking him. He could not handle it anymore. If his mother refused to contact him, then he was going to see her in person. He had to take matters into his own hands.

And he did.

It was with a renewed determination that Arven had made his way to Area Zero with Mabosstiff on his side.

A painful sob breached Arven’s lips. Fear struck him as he relived the attack.

The rampaging creature running at full speed towards them. Mabosstiff putting himself between the creature and Arven, shielding him from the upcoming attack. Arven bracing himself and flinching away from the scene.

What had happened afterwards was a blur. Yet, the image of his dear pokémon, Mabosstiff laying on the grass motionless was clear as day, making Arven’s heart ache. The dark-type pokémon had suffered greatly from the attack and had not recovered since then. If it hadn’t been for his mother leaving and that stupid pokémon she had brought home, none of this would have happened. His resentment towards the entire situation grew tenfold.

Arven was pulled away from his tremor as something twitched in his pocket.

His chest was heaving. The lock of hair styled over his right eye was stuck to his tear-soaked cheek. He could taste the saltiness of his tears on his trembling lips as he moisturised them. The pressure his fingers were exercising on the book made them ache, he loosened his grip on it, providing him with a bit of relief. Arven tore his eyes away from the book, taking in his surroundings. The twitching happened again, urging him to snap out of it.

“Mabosstiff…” hiccupped Arven.

He tucked the book under his arm and wiped his cheeks dry with his sleeve. Mabosstiff’s pokéball twitched a third time in his palm as he retrieved it from his pocket. The simple sight of the ball grounded him, bringing his focus back on why he’d come here for. There was no point in staying stuck in the past, doing so won’t heal Mabosstiff.

Arven brought the pokéball to his chest, silently apologising to the pokémon residing inside it before putting it back in his pocket. He preferred to not waste any more time and opened the scarlet book.

The first few pages were illustrations of pokémon he’d never seen before. They were handmade with a pencil. They were not rushed and quite well-made. Arven could not help but wonder how his mother’s coworker could’ve had the time to draw full illustrations of these pokémon. If they were all like the one he had encountered in Area Zero, there was no possible way to get close to them without getting attacked.

Arven prevented himself from diving too deep into the question, his recent emotional outburst had drained most of his energy. He kept flipping through the pages until he found what he was looking for.

Compared to the pokémon on the previous pages, each Herba Mystica was represented with actual pictures. There was more in depth information about their tastes and healing properties as well which Arven thankful for.

Arven was surprised to find a map of Paldea in the last pages of the book. The map was pinpointing where each Herba Mystica could be found and which Titan Pokémon was protecting it.

It was another surprise to Arven. If the Titan Pokémon were actually protecting the Herba Mystica, it meant that he had to defeat them to access it. Arven couldn't stop his lips from pouting, pokémon battles were not his forte.

“Even if I was into pokémon battles, Mabosstiff is too weak to fight,” thought Arven. “And I don’t think the Skwovet I’ve just caught is any good at pokémon battles.”

Arven pushed the issue aside, he could think about what to do about that later. Another idea had popped up at the forefront of mind. Pokémon battles may not be his strong suit but cooking was, he could come up with different recipes for each Herba Mystica, making it easier for Mabosstiff to ingest the medicine.

He put his hand up, shielding his eyes from the bright sunlight. Once his sight had adjusted to the lighting, he dropped his hand and was greeted by the view of the president of the Academy’s student council, Nemona, accompanied by a student he’d never seen before, coming up Poco Path.

It was with a renewed sense of hope that Arven exited the lab after having put the scarlet book in his backpack.

Arven immediately tensed up. Nemona was having an energetic conversation with the other student who seemed to be on the quieter side. He did not expect to see anyone today and, quite frankly, he was not in the mood to put up with Nemona. He didn’t know her very well but from what he had seen from afar, she seemed to be quite… loud and up in your face.

Arven focused his attention on the other student, they were a few steps behind Nemona, following her wordlessly.

“They look new,” thought Arven. “It must be their first day at the Academy.”

Arven noticed that the nameless student kept throwing looks behind them. It piqued his curiosity, he couldn’t see what the student was looking at from the top of the path.

As much as his curiosity was itching him, Arven turned his back to them in hopes that they would pass by him without noticing him. He had things to take care of and did not want to waste any more time socialising with other students.

Unfortunately for him, Nemona and the unnamed student were making their way up to the lighthouse. Nemona thought it’d be a good idea to show the newest student the view of Paldea from up there.

“Hey, you!” shouted Nemona.

Arven dropped his shoulders in defeat. His plan to not be perceived had failed miserably. He turned around reluctantly, facing Nemona and the nameless student with a grimace decorating his face.

His heart skipped a beat as his eyes locked with Koraidon’s eyes. Anger coursed through his veins, making his body shake. His hands curled into fists, digging half-crescent moons in his palms. He thought he’d never have to see Koraidon again and yet, here it was, standing in front of him, looking and tilting his head at him. The sight of him left a bad taste in his mouth.

His hatred for the pokémon was reignited as he shifted his gaze to Nemona and the student who was with her. He needed to know where they had found Koraidon and why they thought it was a good idea to bring it here…

#arven #arven pokémon #pokémon scarlet #pokémon violet #mabostiff #angst #gen fic #my writing

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hollowwhisperings · 9 months

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The Kids Are Alright: What's In "Blood Stew"?

In preparation for my efforts on crafting some Meera Reed meta & in support of my "Jojen Is Fine, Actually" post, I will be Preemptively Addressing the subject of "Blood Stew" in the Bran POV chapters in ADWD.

CW: spoilers for ASOIF & D&E, reference to cannibalism, hunting of animals (& probable extinction), logistics of meat production, harm to children, suicidal ideation (Jojen), arson (including to religious sites, i.e. Old Gods), possible xenocide, body horror (Brynden), cult behaviour & indoctrination, drugging & grooming of minors (Bran, by the Singers), blasphemy (consistent usage of religious terminology for an in-setting cult of faith).

Team "Cave Kids": Setting the Scene

Going into WoW, Team Bran (Bran, Summer, Walder, Meera & Jojen) will have lived as guests of the Cave Singers for near up to a year: their lodgings lay within a vast & labyrinthine underground cave system, crawling with weirwood tree roots from the Haunted Forest above, and home to More Skeletons Than A Natural History Museum. All the humans (& Summer) share sleeping quarters. Summer pops out to Hunt and Do Wolf Leader Things (GRRM has subscribed his direwolves to Ye Olde Alpha Wolfe society); Jojen Worries Meera and sometimes goes Exploring; Meera and Walder are more cautious in their movements, when Bran isn't Bodysnatching Walder for his own explorations; Bran himself is carried by Singers to & from the shared sleeping chamber to Brynden's Vertigo Cave for "Flying" Lessons.

This entire region is named by the ASOIAF Wiki as "the cave of the three-eyed crow": as I always do, I Take Issue With That Name (I got sidetracked enough to move my thoughts to a separate draft).

Instead, [Team Bran] are guests of the Singers living in "the Caves [Beneath the Haunted Forest]". The Cave Singers are Singers, not Children of the Forest, though I do use Bran & Meera's nicknames for individual Singers.

Brynden is just "Brynden": he was, once, "Lord Commander"; a "Lord Hand" twice-over; and a "Master of Whispers" both before & after his ever receiving the position "officially". More hilariously, Brynden is very definitely the Distant Cousin (mayhaps even a many-times great Uncle) of every living Stark in the series. All courtesy of one Lady Melantha Blackwood of Winterfell (and GRRM's continued Indifference to the maternal sides of family trees, To Be Doylist About It).

Bed & Breakfast

My Grievances with Non-Existent Titles, Leaf's Suspect Math & Unspecified Maternal Lineage aside, let us return to "blood stew".

"And almost every day they ate blood stew, thickened with barley and onions and chunks of meat. Jojen thought it might be squirrel meat, and Meera said that it was rat. Bran did not care. It was meat and it was good. The stewing made it tender." (Bran III, ADWD)

Jojen and Meera are probably both right, sometimes at the same time: Bran is aware of Summer's freely exit the caves to Hunt & Summer likely donates the odd "squirrel" (or pieces thereof) to the Cave Kitchens, when he can. The Supernaturally Colder climate induced by the Others does make Summer's hunting an unreliable food source, in the long run: what little game still remains in the Haunted Forest is unlikely to have any offspring to replace the current population. The ever diminishing returns of Summer's hunts are a major factor in his Direwolf Mother travelling South for her pregnancy in the first place. That she, a Giant Direwolf, somehow got as far South as Winterfell's Wolfswood? Brynden is in the neighbourhood and Invested in House Stark, if only in Bran & Jon: his "Divine Intervention" is the most plausible explanation. Directing a local direwolf to Stark lands is well within his canonically established capabilities (whether this was easier than Rigging Jon's Election is a Fun Thought Experiment).

Local vermin and Summer's potluck contributions alone could not sustain the Singers, let alone their (fragile!) human guests: it is a different sort of meat that makes up most of their Blood Stews, one Greatly Speculated upon and one of Shocking Audacity... so what is the primary ingredient of Blood Stew?

Cave Goat. :D

The Kids Are Alright

The Singers canonically keep Goats for milk, used for cheesemaking. The Singers themselves are Omnivorous (they eat mushrooms & fish) so they probably eat their goats too. Given that the Cave Settlement has existed for 1 million years (Leaf's Math, GRRM's lacking a sense of Scale), the Singers have had a long time to familiarize themselves with lactose tolerance & the butchering of goats for meat. These goats have likely lived alongside the Singers for a very long time: they're never mentioned leaving the Caves to (not) graze, meaning they too live entirely in darkness. Brynden might be called upon, now & then, to skinchange into wild Flock Queens from Above (googling "do goats have leaders" has informed me that goats are Matriarchal) & thus bring "Fresh Blood" to existing herds.

Speaking of Blood, the "blood" in Blood Stew is probably goat blood preserved after slaughter in That Most Ancient Form Of Sausage... black pudding. Blood spoils too quickly otherwise, even if the Singers have "freezers" in the form of cold caves. While GRRM never says as much, the Singers certainly have the means to "farm" salt to aid in meat preservation. There is at least one underground river in the Caves (the black one with blind fish) that is never specified as "salty" or "fresh". Assuming the Singers weren't just "mining" rock salt (solar evaporation would be Rather Difficult, what with the Complete Absence of Sunlight), the Caves almost certainly boast several brine springs.

The access to salt and [cold caves] enable the Singers to "stretch" each goat slaughtered, making them the most reliable source of meat. Given that the Singers personally tend to their goat herds, the "hygiene" of their goat meat makes the goats a much safer offering for their even the most fragile of their human guests (Bran & Jojen). Goats are safer for the Singers too: Leaf gives a population count of "three-score" for her people, and there any implications that they are an "aging population". Singers are small in size, limited in number and their mobility is likely decreasing. The "strength" of any individual Singer is never really expanded upon, beyond their ability to carry Bran around (which... doesn't really say much, given that he's a malnourished nine-year old) and historic difficulties facing humans head-on (bronze weapons & fire, yes, but larger sizes too). Slaughtering domesticated goats would be within the physical capabilities of the Singers we see moving around, hunting bigger (or more aggreesive) game would be Difficult unless Skinchanging was involved (keeping an animal docile enough to restrain and drug with shrooms, the skinchanger leaving before the actual slaughter).

So, shockingly, the "blood" in Blood Stew is just goat sausages (blood, intestines, grain & salt). The "hunks of meat" are Also Goat, for the most part, with Summer's hunts and local vermin (rats, bats, probably not ravens, any safe-for-humans bugs).

Supplementary Protein

Fish are another source of "meat": the Caves have at least one river, home to blind white fish eaten by both Singers & their human guests (differentiating "fish" from game meat would be difficult, given the primary goatiness & the "Stone Soup" vibe of any communal stew).

As Meera speculated, any vermin capable of surviving the supernatural cold, are likely additional ingredients for "Blood Stew". Vermin would be an issue in the Caves, drawn to the Singers having grain stores (oats and barleycorn): these are cold climate crops, making them farmable even This Far North (barley doesn't freeze to death 'til -8° C) though how the Singers could grow these crops in their Caves can only be Handwaved By Magic (For Safety Reasons, skylights or aboveground gardens are Unlikely). That or the Singers used ravens to facilitate Trade with freefolk, when they still lived in the area (the lands of the Thenns are North-West of the Haunted Forest). Magic ravens migjt even be foraging wild grain on the behalf of the Singers: they are fey folk, even without their keeping (stealing) the odd human to act as their personal Eldritch God-Tree Wizard.

The ravens themselves can probably be ruled out as ingredients in Blood Stew: these ravens are Sapient and Divine Envoys besides. There's also the IRL precedent of corvids Holding Grudges: incurring the Wrath of the local avian hivemind would be Enormously Stupid of the Singers. The Murders vastly outnumber the Singers, making peaceful relations Rather Important. Ravens that die prematurely or of injuries (not of sickness: fragile humans are fragile, after all) might be "Fair Game" but, knowing GRRM, the Cave Ravens are probably cannibalistic carrions.

The Cave Ravens would be much more relaxed by Singers harvesting their eggs, outside Mating Season at least. All birds eat their own eggs, making them less "taboo" than one might think. Eggs function as "external food storage" for birds, adults eating unfertilized eggs they lay & babies eating their way out from the egg they hatch from. I could not speculate on how Singers prefer their eggs: in Blood Stew, I could only guess that raven egg yolk would help in "tendering" the goat blood sausages after cold storage.

For all the food sources available to the Singers, the Blood Stews being served "almost everyday" does indicate that Rationing is at play: a Long Night looms and exhausting any food source means losing that food source permanently. Goats, fish, Summer's donations, raven eggs (&/or ravens), vermin and bugs make up the actual "meat" in Blood Stew. The general confusion of the humans as to what their meat is may be further muddled by some "hunks" actually being mushrooms or cheese.

But Humanitarianism!

While zombies are an Awkwardly Plausible Convenience (Coldhands has killed Night's Watch deserters in the vicinity of the Caves & wights were Hidden in the snow surrounding one of its entrances)... consider the state of these wights. The vast majority are rotting, even in the supernaturally cold temperatures and, since Freefolk traditionally burn their dead, the wights that are reanimated likely died in Unsavoury Manners. Even "fresh" or "preserved" corpses are quickly riddled with Unappetizing bacteria and insects. The frozen wights are old, the murdered or forgotten, and all of them Decidedly Unhygienic. Human wights might be safe enough for carrion birds or even the Singers themselves... but they are not safe for their human guests.

Consider the Efforts, the Sacrifices, that enabled Bran's getting to the Singers at all: even with Brynden's "Divine Intervention" (getting the Starklings bodyguards in the form of direwolves, prompting their awakenings as Wargs; encouraging Jojen & thus Meera to meet Bran at Winterfell; bidding Coldhands to save Sam & Gilly, enabling easier passage North via Creepy Eldritch Door, on time to give the kids a "Lift" on his Great Elk), the likelihood of Bran dying was always higher than his surviving. Readers know Bran has Plot Armour but, in-universe, his continued survival has been costly. Getting Bran safely to the Singers was an expensive undertaking, one requiring a great many moving pieces (some of them arguably "moved" before Bran was even born: each Starkling held Potential, some moreso than others, and none of their parents were originally intended for each other).

It is almost certain that Bran was not the first child Brynden Lured North: popular fanon names Euron Greyjoy as an "abandoned" attempt, whilst Jojen was canonically [granted audience? scouted?] only to be "ruled out" (being "only" a greendreamer, Jojen was instead used to Better Bran's Odds of Survival).

While greendreamers and skinchangers are Statistical Anomalies, with persons who are Both being even rarer, Westeros is large enough that having a handful of potential greenseers within generations of each other is a Fair Estimate. No, the issue is the Rarity of Potential Greenseers AND the deadly nature of any "pilgrimage". That only Brynden and Bran are ever named seems to indicate that their managing both trials makes them "worthy" of Reverance, even before "earning" the title of "greenseer". That Bran survived was miraculous and, indeed, Brynden certainly worked "Overtime" in his Acts of Divine Intervention. Even then, Bran (& Jojen's) survival was very much dependent on Summer and Meera's presence in the group: the Singers owe every single member of Team Bran a debt, all of them serving vital roles in getting them a Shiny New God-Tree for their collectiom.

What does Divine Intervention and Debts of Hospitality have to do with Blood Stew, with an "Exciting" Opportunity for Hypothetical "Humanitarianism"?

Simple: Bran is too important to the Singers for them to Risk his health by their serving "Bad Meat". Imagine going to such great lengths to find a Fresh Godling, the relief that This Godling survived to meet his destiny... only for their Godling to get killed by food poisoning.

"And They Were Roommates"

The only meal noted as being Separately Prepared for any of the humans is Bran's Weirwood Paste: what one of them eats, all of them eat. That means that one of the humans getting sick (Jojen being the most susceptible), risks all of them catching ill. While each of the humans does "disappear" now and then, exploring or generally doing their own thing, the extreme cold of their environment (their extended time traumabonding with each other) means that they all share the same sleeping chamber. They share furs, body heat, breath.

While the Singers could very easily isolate the humans from each other (if only for quarrantine purposes), keeping them together is "safer": the humans would recognise sickness or distress in each othed before the Singers could and the humans already know how to take care of each other. The Singers being Good Hosts is in their best interests, not only in currying favour with their new god-in-training but also to ensure said godling survives to do any "Ascending".

Children Are Fragile: Why "Bad Meat" Isn't An Option

Grand Futures of Kingship & God-Treehood aside, at this point in time, Bran Stark is nine-years old. Human children, even Super Magical Starklings, are still children. And children are fragile.

Bran is still recovering from Attempted Murder, with his injuries limiting his independent mobility in ways his society cannot truly accomodate (not as a Prince of Winterfell & definitely not as a half-frozen cave kid). An inability to walk isn't the greatest danger of Bran's disabilities: thermoregulation of half his body is. Bran's friends are better able to recognise Bran's symptoms of physical distress than Bran is, than the Singers could. The humans also have greater strength and mobility: the Singers only seem to have three fingers on each hand and, while Bran is unlikely to grow much bigger given his environment, he will be getting some growth spurts soon. It's unknown how long Bran is expected to need "training" from Brynden, how long he will be carried to & from the communal sleepchamber and his weirwood throne. The Singers might just Graft Bran to his Throne once he's too big for them to safely carry but, again, there is no timeline given for Bran's progress. Better to keep "Hodor" about, thinketh the much tinier Singers.

Jaime's Murder Attempt also put Bran into a prolonged coma, one he was Fortunate to awaken from. That Bran has not exhibited any of the more "inconvient" (or dangerous) consequences of a longterm coma is almost certainly Brynden's "Divine Intervention" at work. Surprising lack of cognitive issues (temporary or longlasting) aside, Bran's coma & his subsequent state of "perpetual bedrest" has left his body much weaker the average child. He's already malnourished, traumatised and struggling to stay warm: Bran getting sick, even a "minor" sickness like a cold or bout of mild food poisoning? That could kill him.

Even if Bran doesn't die from an illness, recovery would be Difficult in such as a Hostile Environment: it is cold, it is dark (no sunlight whatsoever), and [Food Insecurity] is an ongoing reality. If a person is already physically weakened, minor illnesses can very easily escalate into more serious ones. There are no Maesters, no Medicine Women for Bran. The Singers have magic bit they are fey while Bran is (at present) terrifyingly mortal. Keeping Bran alive means keeping him healthy and doing that requires keeping the Other Humans 'healthy" too: serving the "spares" Questionably Sourced Meat is against the Best Interests of the Singers, their Investment in Keeping Bran Alive.

(For now, at least.)

The Jojen Problem

The terrifying fragility of their Future God-King aside, a more "immediate" danger to the continued existence of the Cave Singers is Jojen Reed: that is, Jojen's consistent lack of good health.

Bran was a healthy child who became very vulnerable very suddenly: Jojen, meanwhile, has been "sickly" for Years. Not only is Jojen "small" for his age (14-ish), he is often described as "shaking". IRL, people get tremours for any number of reasons, and comorbid conditions are not unusual. There is valid reason to view Jojen's "shakes" as symptoms of an ongoing, chronic health condition. Jojen might have a chronic illness, lasting side effects from the fever that nearly killed him, and he's had ample opportunity to acquire some [head trauma] over the series. Jojen's "shaking fits" may also be his physiology "teaming up" with psychological trauma: muscular twitches from the stress of hypervigilance, shakiness borne of anxiety & stress, atypically expressed panic attacks (that can resemble seizures in their physicality).

While Jojen's Ambiguous Disorders are decidedly non-contagious (going by IRL counterparts), Jojen's predisposition to "sickliness" makes him just as vulnerable to Death By Minor Illness as Bran, if not moreso given Jojen's Current Psychological State.

The Terrifying Fragility of Jojen Reed

Jojen, for Very Justified Reasons, is Very Depressed. Depression, in fiction & IRL, makes people more susceptible to catching illnesses and makes recovery more difficult. That is true even when a person is not deliberately enabling (or passively "allowing") an illness to harm them.

Jojen "this is not the day I die" Reed is exhibiting every sign of suicidal ideation that Bran, his friend & fellow fragile tiny human, can pick up on. Meera, the Designated Adult of Team Bran at the wise old age of 17 & Jojen's big sister, has become genuinely concerned that Jojen's (passive) Death Wish has become an Active one.

Jojen has long believed that he is Functionally Immortal outside of Greywater Watch: his very first Greendream was, after all, a vision of his own Death. It's not unreasonable to suspect that said Death Dream is a recurring one, that Present Circumstances (Brynden's Body Horror, the complete lack of sunlight) have Exacerbated the frequency of Jojen's Dreaming of Death. Fans of The Song greatly enjoy speculating on Jojen's Inevitable Demise, many assuming he is Already Dead. This is based on his last "appearance" being Bran noting Jojen's Absence: fans fail to extend this state of Already Dead to the Also Absent Meera.

(My tinfoil has One of The Reeds Finding Something while Exploring, grabbing their sibling so as to Convene Privately Elsewhere, & that together they have begun to Conspire An Escape)

If Jojen were to Die Prematurely, far from his Destined Death at Greywater Watch... there goes Meera Reed's Entire Motivation for Being Here, in this Far Away Frozen Helscape.

Meera, obligatory loyalty to House Stark aside, has stated that her primary incentive to follow Bran, to Go North and remain there while Bran [gets made into a tree-wizard]... was to save Jojen from his Death Wish.

Reasons to Fear Meera Reed

Meera is the "healthiest" of all the humans in Team Bran: she's able-bodied, physically mature (short, yes, but strong), lethal with a net & spear... and the primary caregiver of everyone in their group.

Summer (2 y/o) helps, with scouting and hunting and bodyguarding. Walder (17 or older) helps, kind and physically powerful. Jojen (14 y/o) helped, with Uncanny Wisdom and foresight and faith in Bran. Bran (9 y/o) is, of course, the Designated Hero of his chapters (this is Greatly Limited by his being only nine-years old).

Meera (17-ish) did all that and more. Meera hunted, guarded, scouted, foraged, killed, climbed... and did so as a non-magical human, relying on her experience as a crannogmen and her Father's Daughter.

Meera keeps up morale and tells [Very Helpful] Stories, leads where Walder and the children cannot, posseses Common Sense & life experience, mediates when the children are fighting (scolds them for taking their frustrations out on each other), senses Social Danger that Summer might miss, skins prey & butchers it (ensuring none of it goes to waste). Meera is a survivalist, one canny of the Old Ways, a "Modern" example of why the First Men so successfully survived in Westeros.

And the Singers of the Cave are Old. They Know the capabilities of Humans, the single greatest threat the Singers have ever known. The Singers Remember: the Pact, the 4000 years of war before it; the First Men, their axes; the Andals, their iron & blasphemy. The Singers know Human as Invaders and Desecrators and (sometimes) Allies. The Singers also "know" the Consequences of a Human who FeelsToo Much.

Humans, historically, have Little Issue with Seeings Things Burn. Humans, it seems, will respond to Any Strong Emotion with Bronze or Iron or Fire.

Cold? A Human will find a Tree and set it on fire.

Hungry? A human will Kill Something and heat it... over fire.

Dead? Other humans gather, collect the deceased, set the body on fire.

Grieving? A human will find iron, demand answers, find you. And should your "Answers" prove unsatisfactory? Humans will set fire to YOU, your settlement, your Gods.

Meera is very, very "human". She is the most human of her group: Bran is, of course, a God-Tree sapling; Jojen is Greensighted, not long for his human flesh and soon to join You in the Trees; the one called "Hodor" reminds You of the Giants, long ago foes and more recent allies but all but a few Gone to the Earth.

(Summer is a Direwolf.)

Meera is the Single Greatest Threat to the Cave Singers, who believe themselves the "last" of their people. Meera is a Consiserable Threat to the Last Greenseer, whom she has grown to Suspect and Resent. Meera does not, at least, carry on her person any axe (she wields spear and net and shield).

Meera can definitely start a fire. Meera would willingly start a Fire, a pyre for her brother built from the Last Greenseer himself. Meera would gladly burn out the Last of the Singers, for Vengeance and as Sacrifices to stay the suit of wights (of Others) as she Flees South and homeward (taking your Prince, your Shiny New God-Tree, the Last Hope of your People with her for spite alone).

That's All, Folks!

So, no: "Blood Stew" is not made from people. It is not made of Jojen or Meera, it is Goat and Vermin and Bugs. It is occasionally made with Squirrels. The "blood" is black pudding, goat's blood and intestines salted to ensure no goat goes to waste: their hides and furs warm the children, their blood and flesh sustains them, their cheese enables their exercising in philosophy. Wights are just too dangerous, to hunt or serve for supper: Bran (& Jojen) cannot be risked for the sake of morbid convenience. Live humans are right out, too much bigger and stronger than the Singers, or too dearly missed by The Scariest Being North of The Wall.

The Kids are Alright (the human ones, anyway).

#valyrianscrolls #asoiaf theories #jojenpaste #blood stew #the last greenseer #i can't believe it's not cannibalism!#why are song fans so obsessed with oblivious humanitarianism #i googled things i never wanted to google in factchecking this #i am not a medical professional nor involved in the food industry #jojen reed meta #meera reed meta #bryndenpaste #to get in the mindset of writing this required me to think like a fey folk #cw cannibalism #cw food #cw suicidal ideation #cw body horror #brynden rivers is his own warning #i am weirdly more sympathetic to brynden after spending so much time in Leaf POV #singers of the earth #cotf meta #three-eyed crow is not a title #life beyond the wall #walder is hodor's actual name #just like brynden is the three-eyed crow's actual name and bran is the winged wolf's #sci-fi writers have no sense of scale #i have cut enough meta while drafting this post to make two more posts #but mostly i just want to never have to discuss “humanitarianism” ever again #guest right #crud i forgot to consider whether guest right would be as strongly respected by singers as by first men

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faithandarisadventures · 2 years

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City Museum St. Louis, Missouri April 30, 2022

Where do I even start with the City Museum? Ari told me about it on our first date and made it sound really fun, but as soon as we pulled into the parking lot, the first thing that came to mind was “death trap”. It’s more of a playground that adults as well as kids can use than it is a museum, and it’s basically cobbled together from random pieces of junk. I had a feeling I was going to leave there with at least one injury and I was right. The first thing we did was crawl through a series of small man made caves that made me feel claustrophobic right off the bat. Then we climbed a rickety spiral staircase (shown in the second and third pictures) to the top of a ten-story slide. I have a pretty severe fear of heights and these rickety stairs did nothing to help. There were so many people there, we constantly had to stop and wait on the stairs while people went down the slide. The cramped area was so hot and smelled of body odor. I was sweating before we reached the top. I had never been on a slide so high before and my stomach lurched as I started down. The slide is enclosed by a cage so there’s no chance of you falling off of it, but that somehow didn’t make me feel any better. When all of us (it was me, Ari, and a friend of ours) had gone down the slide, I found the nearest bathroom, went inside, and had a panic attack.

A short while later, we went down a much shorter but steeper slide and I sprained my ankle landing at the bottom. Then we went to the outdoor part, which turned out to be worse than the inside. I couldn’t get a decent picture of the rickety playground equipment, so I included a pic of the postcard I got in the gift shop. We crossed the blue bridge in the foreground, went up and through the airplane (which rocks back and forth with every step you take), and from there the only place you have to go it waaaaaay up through the coil-shaped tunnel that has to be over a hundred feet off the ground, and then down through the diagonal tunnel, where you have to brace your feet on both sides and hold on to the ceiling for dear life to keep from shooting down the tunnel and landing on bare metal grating at the bottom. I was on the verge of another panic attack before I got out of the two tunnels. On the way back down to solid ground, I banged my head on something and by that point, I had just had it. I went in the bathroom and started crying again. I shudder to think how many injuries happen at this place every year. At $20-$28 apiece to get in, it absolutely was not worth it. The friend who was with us commented that they probably charge so much because they have to have an army of lawyers to protect them from lawsuits. I never want to go back.

They did, however, have a few interesting architectural details that I’ll show you in separate posts.

#missouri #st louis #city musuem #playground #death trap #indoor playground #panic attack #theme park #adventure park #our adventures

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jenniferchaulam · 1 year

Text

/adding on to the previous post, short story idea (draft plot only, anws)

There is no violence, but depictions of uncomfortable stuffs so. I'd just wanted to censor this.

tags: Alhaitham, Kaveh, Wanderer has PTSD BUT I dont know if my depictions of PTSD is accurrate, please tell me if im just writing stereotypes, mentions of anesthesia awareness/surgery with no anesthesia, Wanderer has a mechanical heart, Modern-ish AU, just regular sumeru gang bonding, OOC? maybe? i did it best i could-

The world was in complete darkness. Machinery beeping. Be-beep. Be-beep. Be-beep. Lights buzzing. People mumbling incomprehensible things. Metals clanking. The smell felt sterile and clean. It felt like a thousand ants on his body.

Wanderer felt awake, but his body was not. As if a sleep paralysis demon was pressing his entire body, and he could not move an inch.

A sharp piercing pain came right as his chest. The room stench of fresh organs. The thousands of ants moved as if he was their cave. He tried to scream, to twitch, to shook off whatever was slicing him-

He jerked awake in cold sweat.

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

He can barely hold himself together as he trembly walks out his room. These nightmares are nothing new, but Wanderer can never get over them. Maybe a cup of tea will help.

"It's never happening again. Pull yourself together", he told himself. He steadies his hand, which was shaking uncontrollably. "I can not be weak".

He felt his mechanical heart pulsing through his entire body, and it made his breath slow and heavy. Nahida went to help the children's hospital, but if she was here she would have immediately notice him limping out the bunk bed the moment he was awake. Personally, Wanderer felt it is utterly embarrasing, and he would rather have a million nightmare than to sit in therapy with her at midnight.

That said, he was not the only one in this flat.

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

Kaveh needed a place to stay and finish his deadline, since his roommate thinks he's "Too noisy" for his liking. When Nahida asked if Wanderer agrees, he said he has no opinion on who she would want to host in her house. Now everytime Kaveh has to finish a deadline, he just brings Mehrak over to the flat next door, along with a bit of coffee.

So anyways, Kaveh got startled by Wanderer's very loud scream and is currently very concerned.

Wanderer groans when he got to the living room and saw a messy table with a sleep-deprived blond man.

"Are you alright, Hat Guy?", Kaveh asked without looking off his table.

No response. Wanderer is still trembling from the shock and barely wants to answer. He went straight to the cupboard for tea.

"I heard you scream, and I have to say it startled me as well. I bet Al Haitham next door could hea-"

"Wait-"

Wanderer pause. The overwhelming dread that he did not woke up quietly.

"What did you say?", he asked slowly.

Kaveh lift his eyes off his work. Hat Guy's voice sounded trembly, and he notice that the short guy is full of sweat. Like he was struggling to stand. He threw a death stare towards Kaveh.

"Ah, I'm sure its nothing". Kaveh decides its best not to worry him. "It's okay, I won't tell anyone about this either, if you're uncomfortable."

Wanderer let out a huff. At least this blondie is too friendly to tell, and this secret will be safe. He went back to looking for a mug for his tea.

A sharp stinging flashback hit when he reached out for the mug. The flickering tick of the water boiler. Be-beep. Be-beep. Be-beep.

"No, this isn't- I have used this many times-"

His chests tightens. He can't breathe. He can not breathe. A sharp knife pierce through his body. Ants. So many ants crawling. He let out a small, sharp scream. His arm and chest felt like it was being broken to pieces, just like the mug that fell of his grip.

"Ha-- Gu--?"

Sounds turned into a single ringing noise. Then it felt like constant beeping of machinery. He can hear the buzzing of the lights. Many hands were on top of him touching him in different places, and he can't move. Everything stings.

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

"Hey, Hat Guy! Oh thank archons you opened your eyes", said Kaveh while shaking him awake.

The short guy is shivering as if this room is freezing despite being in Sumeru, and his breathing is irregular. His shirt went from soaking to dripping with sweat.

"You should continue your work. I can take it from here", said another familiar male voice in green.

"Who invited you?", Wanderer scoffed at who is obviously Alhaitham.

"Yea, I thought you had earmuffs you can use to ignore everyone!", Kaveh followed up, "Get out off here!"

"And I thought your deadline was today, in 9 hours. Go back to work. It was too noisy anyways. Hat Guy screamed, and broke a mug, then scream again. Even the best earmuffs can't block those. If this happens again I can't get back to sleep."

Wanderer let out a groan. It felt like everyone knows he has a problem. That said, just like Kaveh describe, Alhaitham's attitude is similar to him. He bets this Scribe guy won't come if he didn't disturb him. This guy only cared for what benefits him.

"We have weighted blankets in our flat if you think this is PTSD", Alhaitham said while adjusting Wanderer's position. But Wanderer just kicks him instead.

"We do??????? How come I not know?"

"I have weighted blankets at MY flat if you think this is PTSD."

"I don't have PTSD", Wanderer said, while his entire body shivers uncontrollably, just to betray his words. He turned himself trying to reach the counter but with zero grip he slipped back onto the ground.

"Don't try to stand up quickly. I'm not an Amurta student, but-"

"But what, big H? What's stopping me to just stand up right now?"

Wanderer bounced himself up.

Only to quickly turn dizzy.

He hold himself at the counter-

Alhaitham ignored him struggling to stand.

"You can just follow my lead. Breathe in", he said.

"Not in a million years." Wanderer just stayed on the floor. Its not worth it if he stood up and the water boiler reminds him of anything. He turns his back against it.

"Suit yourself"

Alhaitham left Hat Guy where he was, and starts sweeping off the broken pieces of the mug. He continue to brew the tea that was left already on the counter.

The bitter smell of tea... Wanderer relaxes himself. Tiredness from lack of sleep creeps up to him, and the smell drifted him into closing his eyes.

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

Kaveh gets to continue his project, in peace. Once Hat Guy went back to sleep Alhaitham just sorta left him there. He did went and get some weighted blankets.

"Kaveh. Is there anything you know and haven't told me?",he asked while leaving the folded blankets right on the floor.

"No. You saw everything, really. He looked like he saw a ghost, yelled and jerked himself awake. I am really worried for him though."

The Scribe nods and left the flat, and Kaveh finally finished and sent his project. He went to take a peak at Hat Guy.

He was kinda left on hard cold tiles, but his face looked peaceful. Kaveh decided he won't leave him like this, and started carrying the shortie back to his bed. There was a bunk bed, so he assumes Hat Guy sleeps on the one with his giant Inazuman style head disk. He pours hot tea into a thermos, and left it next to his bed, with a note: "Hot tea - K"

Finally, Kaveh took the weighted blankets left on the floor.

When he got back however, Hat Guy was wide awake. He was panting. Hands covering his mouth and nose, preventing himself from screaming. He quickly unplugged the ticking clock and threw it away. It made a loud bang. On the side of Alhaitham's room.

"Oh, archons, Hat Guy! Are you alright?"

Hat Guy stared at Kaveh, wide-eye and full of tears.

"Here. I made tea. And some weighted blankets. I actually have no idea how these work. Just cover them over, I think."

Wanderer just did as he was told.

"Hey, don't you usually sleep with the Dendro Archon? Maybe it will be better if you just come over my flat and sleep with m-"

"You think your tiny bed can hold two people?", Alhaitham said, startling the two, "but, you do have a point. Hat Guy, if you want I can give you a sleeping rug in my flat."

He agrees.

For some reason. Just this once, three reminders is too many to bear. He wants to sleep in peace.

/////////////////////////

pt2 coming? i still have ideas i just cant write them-

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