#east falls church

[istandonsnowpiles]

Skyfire

#arlington #east falls church #east falls church metro station #power lines #sunset #virginia #january #around dc #my work #photography

[lesterpubliclibrary]

Calm Morning by Lester Public Library Via Flickr: Two Rivers, Wisconsin

#Two Rivers #Wisconsin #TrueToTwo #Explore Two Rivers #water #Rivers #river #East Twin River #trees #tree #spire #church #Sepia Chapel #Morning #Fall #Autumn #September #reflections #Lester Public Library #WIsconsin #Read #Discover #Connect #Enrich #flickr

[alittlebitofloveliness]

Ponyboy and Addiction

CW: mentions of drugs and alcohol abuse

For a fandom that really seems to like Ponyboy angst people don't really talk much about how the book very carefully but consistently planted the seeds of what could be Ponyboy's downfall in the east side, the main thing that could fuck up his plans for college or any sort of better life: Ponyboy has an addictive personality. The biggest evidence of this is, of course, his nicotine addiction and love of cigarettes which he is scarcely without throughout the book. Yes, all the greasers smoke, and yes, he uses it as a way to calm down in incredibly stressful situations, but the truth of the matter is that Ponyboy is a fourteen year old who cannot go more than a few hours without nicotine. Even after a cigarette lit the church on fire, even when he's recovering from a major concussion, he's still smoking in his bed, and not only a little bit either. Darry tells him he'd 'skin him' if 'he smoked more than a pack' when he's literally confined to bed rest. That's a lot of smokes (I know this is set in the 1960s but a pack a day for a kid who was literally being treated for smoke inhalation earlier in the book is still excessive). However, cigarettes are not the only evidence we have of Ponyboy having the potential for addiction to become a major issue. While it's mentioned he doesn't like alcohol, he does at one point self medicate with asprin, taking far more than the recommended dose-- 5 pills. In the same passage he also offhandedly claims this is something he does frequently, not to help with headaches or anything like that, but to help him fall asleep. Ponyboy is literally self medicating at fourteen with cigarettes and over the counter medication, to treat unrelated ailments-- and is actively hiding this fact from his brothers. It's not touched on far beyond these instances, but its very clear textual evidence of the fact that were Ponyboy to end up getting involved with the wrong crowd or trying the wrong thing, he could very easily destroy his life and any chance of getting out of the east side. In the end, it won't matter if Ponyboy decides to stay gold or not if he gets hooked on the wrong substance. "Oh but lovely, all the greasers are like this"- aside from Two-bit, no one else in the main seven is characterized as having a severe dependence on any sort of substance. Canonically, Soda doesn't drink, we never see Steve, Dally, or Darry inebriated on page, although they all do occasionally drink; and while all of them smoke, Ponyboy is constantly and repeatedly referred to as the 'weed fiend' of his family and to some extent the gang. Ponyboy Curtis and Two-bit Matthews are the two members of the gang with addictive personalities, addiction has the potential to be Ponyboy's undoing and I will die on this hill.

#ponyboy curtis #the outsiders #darry curtis #sodapop curtis #two bit mathews #steve randle #johnny cade #dally winston #dallas winston #lovelythoughts

[memecucker]

The relationship between colonialism and religion is more complicated than the Civilization game where you’re trying to score a religious victory and it’s easier to convert places you conquer.

It’s not a matter of religion being imposed purely for the purpose of religion being imposed even if that may have been the personal motives of individual colonizers because even if there was a truly missionary motive these missions could only exist insofar as it was economically sustainable and oftentimes this takes the form of exploitation of the indigenous population.

Also the flat conception of religious colonialism overlooks how as colonialism progressed as a type of “social technology” there was in many places a shift away from seeking to replace indigenous organized religions (if they were present in the first place) towards recruiting the indigenous religious authorities to the colonial side.

Like for example with the colonies of the Iberian powers there was no separation of church and state and I don’t just mean in the sense of “the state imposed religious dogma and the church officially endorsed the state” I mean basic everyday functions of the state relied upon services of the church. Eg; If a colonial Governor wanted to say, requisition corvee labor from villages for a building project and he wished to know the populations of these villages in order to decide which to pull laborers he wouldn’t be looking at any state mandated census but instead would rely upon the archives and records of the Catholic Church because records would be kept of church attendance. If the governor wanted to hunt some rebel named “Diego of San Juan” he’d look at baptismal records to find examples of people named “Diego” and who they’re related to.

This meant that Spanish and Portuguese colonialism had an actual material interest in enforcing religious homogeneity and Catholic supremacy because that’s how their colonial states functioned. The colonial bureaucracy was in fact synonymous with the Church’s bureaucracy and so if some people weren’t Catholic they existed outside the Church which meant they existed (at least partially) outside the State. One example that’s a bit relevant is the original version the “National Commission on Indigenous Peoples” in the Philippines was set up during the American occupation and was called “Bureau of Non-Christian Tribes” because the groups in question are largely people who existed outside of direct Spanish colonial control (and wouldve been labeled “savages” in the 19th century) and hence “non-Christian”.

Anyway in the case of the Portuguese colonial empire in Asia this wound up being part of the reason for its collapse. By making their state function in the requirement that it’s subjects be observant Catholics the Portuguese had a lot of trouble making allies because if indigenous elites could be persuaded to convert then great but if they didn’t then they were gonna get really pissed off especially when they start hearing the Portuguese are torturing people under their rule that feel the same. And so without a network of allies the Portuguese colonial empire in Asia began to fall apart leaving only Goa, Macau and East Timor. Elsewhere the Portuguese had been replaced by the Dutch, English and French all of whom had systems of governance which was not as so dependent on doctrinal supremacy as the Iberians eg; the Dutch agreed to help the Shogunate put down a Christian revolt in 1638 and the East India Company actually banned Christian missionaries from operating in its territories until 1813 when Parliament forced them to allow Christian missionaries to preach.

Now of course the EIC example is in particular interesting because what you’re basically seeing is the colonial state shedding its reliance on the Christian Church in favor of courting the support of indigenous religious leaders and recruiting them into the colonial apparatus but at the same time you have churches seeking to operate whats can be considered a type of “rival” colonial project that would have an almost parasitic relationship in that the churches profited in their own way while also in a way undermining the local legitimacy of the official colonial state.

[princesssarisa]

I've now reached the last of the main list of Cinderella stories from Cinderella Tales Around the World. The book is nowhere near over, though: after this it goes into the various "subtypes" of Cinderella, such as Donkeyskin.

The last few "official" Cinderella stories in this book are from Mexico and Chile. I was disappointed not to see more South American versions, and particularly that there were none from Brazil for @ariel-seagull-wings. But the Donkeyskin tales later in the book do include a Brazilian version, which I look forward to sharing!

Meanwhile...

*As in the versions from the Philippines, the heroine is named Maria in all three of these Latin American tales.

*The Mexican version is called Maria Cenzia, or "Cinder-Mary." The title character is a homeless orphan who lives in an ash-hole belonging to a household of black Moorish witches. They eventually discover her, take her in as a servant, and send her to the river with a black sheepskin, ordering her to wash it until it's white. But a lady appears and magically does the task for her, then gives her a magic wand to grant her wishes and puts a shining star on her forehead. When the jealous daughter of one of the witches sees this, she takes a black sheepskin to the river too, but the lady puts an ugly growth on her forehead instead of a star. Maria later uses her magic wand to give herself finery to wear to church and to give herself wings to fly home before the witches can catch her. She loses a shoe, of course, which leads to her marriage to the prince. But then the witches turn her into a dove with a magic pin. Yet one day, her father-in-law the king finds her and takes out the pin, breaking the spell, and when all is revealed, the witches are burned at the stake.

*The two Chilean versions, Maria the Cinder-Maiden and Maria the Ash-Girl, are nearly identical to each other and very similar to Maria Cenzia too. Maria persuades her father to marry a seemingly-kind widow with a daughter of her own, but is abused afterwards. She has a pet cow, which the stepmother spitefully has killed, but inside its body Maria finds a magic wand. She then has to wash the cow's organs in a stream, but they fall in and are swept away. An old woman comes along and offers to get them for her, and in return Maria cleans her house and cooks supper for her; for this, the old woman gives Maria a shining star on her forehead. The next day the envious stepsister has her own pet cow killed, takes the organs to the stream, and loses them on purpose, but she shows the old woman no kindness, and so she receives a turkey wattle on her forehead instead of a star. Some time later, there's a ball at the royal palace. Maria uses her wand to give herself finery and a coach, and of course she loses a shoe, and the prince uses it to search for her. The stepsister binds her own foot with tight bandages to make the slipper fit, but either a dog or a parrot alerts the prince, and Maria is found.

*It's interesting that the motif of the heroine receiving a shining mark on her forehead (a star, a moon, or a jewel) is found in Cinderella tales from both Latin America and Iran, yet rarely seen elsewhere. My guess is that the motif originated in the Middle East, was brought to Spain by the Arabs, and then traveled from Spain to Latin America.

*This is probably as good a time as any to discuss another recurring theme I've noticed. While around the world it varies whether the heroine's abusers are punished, forgiven, or neither, it seems that when they are punished, the worst punishment usually falls on the (step)sister(s), not the (step)mother. Just look at the Grimms' version: the stepmother is Aschenputtel's main antagonist, and she abuses her own daughters too by forcing them to cut off parts of their feet, yet in the end she goes unpunished, while her daughters' eyes are pecked out by birds. Yet even in versions where the (step)mother does get a punishment, the more brutal killing, maiming, or permanent disfigurement tends to be reserved for her daughter(s). Some versions try to justify it by portraying the sisters as abusing Cinderella more than their mother does, but most don't bother. In many versions, the simple "crime" of being Cinderella's rival is treated as if it were worse than being her chief abuser.

@ariel-seagull-wings, @adarkrainbow, @themousefromfantasyland

#cinderella #fairy tale #variations #cinderella tales from around the world #heidi ann heiner #mexico #chile #tw: violence #tw: racism

[bon2bonn]

Breakeven

0-0

Mafia!Charles leclerc X Mafia!reader

° Ex!lestappen X reader , ex!Charles leclerc X ex!max verstappen , ex!max verstappen X ex!reader .

Words count : 1.3k

Warnings : violence, guns , grammar, death, not proof read.

*did I get sidetracked/distracted again and started yet another fic that I daydreamed about in a sleep deprived haze ? YEP! I sure did . do I regret it now ? Heck no! . will I regret it later for indulging my mind by writing it instead of focusing on my already full WIP list? Absolutely! . So enjoy🍷!

Charles leaned his back against her side tilting his head on her chest , his hair is tussled and his frown gone as he closed his eyes in content, her arm draped over his shoulder from the back , as her hand rested over his heart with one of his holding onto it as he slept .

Their joined hands raising and falling with every breath he took and his posture calm a relaxed, A major contrast from his usually tense and guarded self . Her other hand rested on Max's hand that he let her hold , tracing over his scared hand as she followed the lines and raised tissue on the back of it , his head resting on her shoulder with hers leaning over his .

All three basking in the cool wind as it breathed around them the place is a small piece of heaven with overgrown trees and wild flowers scattering around and disappearing beyond the treelines , tucked away from the main court where the main families meet to for business .

They Found it years ago and run to whenever they got the chance , taking a fresh breath of air was a rare occurrence as their families increased their responsibilities with every passing day , yet they cherished these fleeting moments even if short and spent in silence, still very precious to them .

She closed her eyes , enjoying the stolen moment of peace , Max's voice cuts through the peaceful haze " Mijn liefje , you have to wake up " . She frowned at his words, but kept her eyes closed " but I want to stay here , with you " she felt him hold her hand gently , lifting it up to place a delicate kiss on the back of it , leaving behind a a tingling sensation that turned into a scorching pain causing her to wince , he whispered in a far away voice " but you know that this isn't real " , she tried to argue back but her words got caught in her throat . And as she strained her hearing she couldn't hear the sound of bustling leaves above them anymore as it fades into a steady ticking bounced around her head before it stopped with the loud ringing of the church bell from the other side of the block . Snapping her awake from the beautifully haunting daydreams that kept plaguing her days .

Moving away from the wall she was leaning on , fighting the urge to scratch at the back of her tightly wrapped hand as she crouched down , readjusting her coms before leaning down into position , sight set on the moving cars as she counted three moving ahead towards the gates, another one barked not far from the front entrance across the street, and another going around for the past hour or so appearing irregularly without a specific timing but not close enough to draw attention, a surveillance team of sorts.

Clicking her coms on as she followed the van one block before it turned a corner and out of sight " Marv , surveillance is heading your way 10 seconds east " the line clicked and the voice answered back " copy that " . Another line connected as she fixed her aim at the last car as it stopped before the gate but no one got out " Jinx here, the back is cleared, no setbacks here , sirens are in position and ready to go " she acknowledged with a "copy that " , swiftly shooting the tires of the the target's car as a precaution , forcing them to get him out eventually to ensure his safety.

Counting her side tasks for the day , the first car had at least three armed guards the , second had 4 armed who posed as a diversion to cover the third which had two armed guards one personal bodyguard along with the target .

She took down the first two guards injuring the third as they stepped out, another one from the second car and three more as they tried to shoot back at her place in the rooftop. Leaving the best for last when two more guards emerged from the said car . She ducked as the last guard aimed at her head , missing twice before he ran out of ammo. She took him out with one shot , Leaving the target with no protection for now .

The silence was defining as she head down the stairs , gun loaded and ready . she called through her Comms " we're on the move, start phase 2, sirens , lock and move " , they answered in confirmation starting their own tasks at hand .

While she approached the car slowly , she found the target first , unarmed and trembling as he babbled on trying to bargain himself out " I'll give you whatever you want, how much ?! 5 million , 9 I'll give you 12 please! Whatever you want!!" As he kept frantically pleading his guard sneaked up on her , trying to grab her by the neck , but was met with a kick and a bullet to the leg caughting him off guard, he stumbled back but grabbed a hold of her ankle dragging her down with him , she rolled away aiming for his head but he took cover with the car door , the target was screaming as bullets kept shooting towards him with one barley taking his ear as he ducked , she groaned as she threw her now empty gun , taking out another one but the bastard kicked it out of her hand , she took a deep breath " you asked for it " she charged at him ducking last second swiping his feet , making him fall face first before pinning him down with both arms pulled behind his back with her knee centered between his shoulders blades , putting pressure down while pulling hard enough until two loud pops were heard , the guard screamed along with the target who held his arms in fear , watching in horror as she now held her fallen gun to the back of the guard's head shooting once before she stood up turning to him .

He tried to scoot back shaking the door beside him in attempt to flee his death , she got in slowly , sitting beside him in a bored manner shutting the door behind her with a swift move, he stilled as she finally looked at him with sharp eyes , feeling cold chills running through his bones he attempted to plead again " I'll give everything you want! Please spare me!" She shook her head as she leaned back into the seat , keeping him cornered as she spoke in a cold voice " you seem to forget our values Mr Matthew , we don't spare traitors , nor do we bargain with death" he shouted at her cursing as he couldn't escape his fate " you're a wretched girl you'll rott in hell! Where you belong !!!!" She gave him a sinister smile as she leaned in close to whisper in his ear " then tell the devil I'm coming for his throne while you're down there" wiping the grin off her face as she shot a final bullet before she got out , closing the door swiftly behind her as she walked away and down the street , clicking her coms back on she updated " target is terminated , Marv status?" stopping by a white van , getting in as she got a response " all clear here , heading out " she looked at the flowing data on the screens before her " copy that " turning to the driver she signalled for him to drive before she reconnect one last time " sirens , your status?" An answer sounds out immediately " targets secured, no casualties, heading out now " satisfied with the results she call out " regrouping in 10 " everyone called back " copy" before she turned off her earpiece, letting the monitor on as they drove back in silence , she filtered through the files in search for what they needed , humming quitely before she stilled with wide eyes in astonishment as she finally came across what she was looking for , smiling devilishly at the screen " Oh , it seems like you've dug yourself a deep hole Mr Ralph , and I'll make sure to bury you in it " .

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #Charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #mafia au #f1 au! #f1 mafia!au #mafia!Charles leclerc #mafia!Max Verstappen #mafia!reader #ex!lestappen #ex!Max Verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #ex!lestappen x reader #lestappen

[otto-apocalypse]

Basically, Otto is the main antagonist of HI3. I said antagonist, because while a villain actively wants ill for the main characters, he doesn't want that. He was born in the XV century in Austria, and was the most frail and sickly kid, fifth born of House Apocalypse. He then mets Kallen Kaslana, who instead compliments him and believes in him, and from then on he idolizes her. When they were teenagers, they witness Kallen'a father die to save them, and since the oath of the Kaslana family states to protect the weaks, Otto is then terrified that Kallen will also die the same way. It's then that he unlocks Void Archives, trying to sacrifice his live to resurrect Kallen's father, but she stops him.

Ten years pass and Otto is willing to do anything, even less… ehtic things, to protect her. He also SINGLEHANDEDLY CURER THE PLAGUE. In the XV century. Then she finds out he's doing questionable things and that th Church of Schicksal, founded by the three noble familie Apocalypse, Schariach and Kaslana, is also very sus, nd she flees. In the East she meets Yae Sakura, and they fall in love. But Sakura become sort of a Herrscher (powerful emissaries of Honkai, the main threat of the world) and Kallen has to kill her. She then returns, and sends a letter of excuses to Otto (who never received it) stating that she was wrong to criticize him for what he did for her, when she did the same for Yae. Once back, Schicksal sends her to death, Otto tries everything to stop it, asking her in marriage as last resort (he's always been in love with her, but never confessed because he knew she didn't feel the same, and only wanted her happy). But she refuses, saying that she doesn't want to live if it means being someone else's puppet. So Otto, as the very last resort, asks for help his older sister Risa, who with their newphew was aiming at gaining power over Shicksal. She help, by releasing Honkai beasts during Kallen's death sentence. She tries to protect the people, and ends up dying.

Otto kinda loses it for a while, goes around opening orphanages and taking care of kids, helps the rebellion take Schicksal back from Risa (who was doing even worse experiments), and ends up travelling to the East, to seach for that Immortal who defeated even Kallen, the strongest valkyrie, hoping to find a way to revive Kallen. He mets Sushang, stuff happens, this is the untranslated, unfinished Seven Swords visual novel (where he gets called Raksha and has an outfit similar to HSR) Thanks to VA, he's pretty much immortal himself, but can't revive the dead

For 500 years he protects the world from Honkai. Valkyries exist thanks to him. If humanity managed to fight off Honkai it's thanks to him. All the technologies that allows Valkyries to fight are thanks to him. In the fifties he tries to clone Kallen, and has the clones fight each other, and one refuses to kill another. This clone is Theresa Apocalypse, which he adopts as his grandaughter, and the other is Amber (his secretary). At the same time, the First Eruption happens, and Welt Joyce is the Herrscher of Reason. This is the plot of the Anti-Entropy visual novel. In summary Welt Joyce (welt is literally the german word for "world") is on the side of humanity, but Void Archives does some tricks, and Otto ends up killing Joachim Nokianvirtanen's father, who inherits the core of the Herrscher of Reason from the dying Welt Joyce, thus becoming Welt Yang (Yang is from his mother). Yes, our Welt Yang.

Fast forward in the '90s, the Second Eruption happens, with the Herrscher of the Void, Sirin. They fight, yadda yadda, stuff happens, Welt dies but then resurrects, and not without difficulty humanity manages to kill Sirin. Otto keeps the cores of the Herrchers, because he tries to find a way to make Herrshcers on the side of humanity. At this point, his plan is still to be able to capture the power of the future Herrscher of Death and use it to resurrect Kallen. But an encounter with the Will of Honkai, suggest that this is not the way.

Meanwhile a few years earlier, a descendant of the House Kaslana, Siegfried, has met Cecilia Schariac, they end up together and have a kid, Kiana. Cecilia ends up sacrificing herself to save all Siberia from Herrshcer of the Void, and while she was conscious of this, it was literally her choice, Otto made Theresa, her great friend, think that he killed her with a nuke. Otto tries to find a way to control HoV powers with clones of Kiana, and one of these clones succedes. Little Kiana, of roughly 10 years, decides this clone in a tube must be saved, so her and her father sneak into Schicksal to steal it. Things go horribly wrong, and Kiana gets left behind, almost dead. Otto saves her, and since she doesn't remember anything, gives her the name Bianka Ataegina, aka Durandal. Meanwhile Siegfriend is with Kiana clone, and he gives her the name Kiana, grows her for a while and then leaves to avoid her Sirin personality to emerge. She then goes to school to become a Valkyrie and meets Mei and Bronya. When Sirin ends up awakaning, Otto kidnaps her to Schicksal flying HQ (had she awoken at the school, it would've been a massacre).

She fights, and Himeko's sacrifice awakens Kiana's humanity. She hides away for a while and other stuff happens to other characters. Meanwhile Otto has discovered, also thanks to Su from Previous Era and Durandal, what he has to do to resurrect Kallen. You see, he witnessed many, many parallel universes, and Kallen ALWAYS dies (this is a nod to GGZ).

But to enact his plan he needs HoV powers, and Kiana won't help him willingly. So he devises a plan: in Kolosten, the old Schicksal HQ, he calls everyone. He sends a threat: he's going to reverse time, everyone who's currently in Kolosten will be safe, but everyone else outside will simply cease to exist as time gets reverted back to when kallen was alive. He taunts them all to come and stop him. This is actually a bait, and also his plan B. If the girls couldn't stop him, they'd have no hope against Honkai and future dangers, so 500 more years would be needed. His main plan is to trick Durandal and Kiana to kill him using theyr powers, so he could trascend existence itself.

All the "traps" he devised were actually personalized to each girl and her power, a sort of training. They fight, he gets killed, and manages to reach the Imaginary Tree. There, at the cost of his existence, CREATES new braches of possiiliy to let Kallen live.

His morally grey character has the best writing I've ever seen. His love for Kallen is something so… wonderful, it doesn't fit into romantic nor sexual, he doesn't want her for himself, heck, he doesn't even get to meet her once she finally has a new chance at life. He just wants her happy and safe.

#otto apocalypse #honkai impact 3rd #honkai star rail #luocha #hi3 #hsr #honkai impact

[bidisastersanji]

The Old Guard x One piece AU got my brain going brrr and i'm gonna make it your problem now. Center of the matter is I want Zoro and Sanji to meet kind of like Nicki and Joe did (discovering their immortality by fighting on opposite sides and killing each other over and over and then becoming eternal lovers) so I went and did some research for the entire Straw hat crew. Main thing is I wanted to link them to historical events that will give them the right motivations and backgrounds! so here we GOOO

Sanji and Zoro: Because Japan has an isolationist past, the only battle I could find that would work is the Cagayan battles of 1582 in Jakarta between Spanish-Philippine forces vs Japanese pirates (a.k.a Wokou, which are basically pirate ronin) Sanji would thus be a reluctant "Rodelero" sent to South East Asia by his noble family (jokes on them he loves being in the middle of the spice trade and he hates being part of a noble family funding the conquistadores) who one day finds himself fighting a mysterious Wokou samurai Zoro. They're partly isolated from their respective camps when they first kill each other, and again, and again, until they realise they should by all means be dead but they keep healing. After a couple decades of -against all odds- running into each other everywhere, they reluctantly decide to try and figure out what the heck's happened to them together- struggling to communicate at first, then learning each others' language over the following decade, then falling in love and becoming inseparable. This makes Zoro and Sanji both over 400 years old, and they are the same age. Zoro learns about so many sword techniques and Sanji about different cuisines/ leg-centric fighting styles during this time.

all the other straw hats and their historical periods under the cut!

Robin as an Egyptian scholar who died during the burning of the Library of Alexandria in 48 BC/ was killed for researching something forbidden during the declining years of the Roman Period (early 200s) and found out she was immortal this way, making her around 2 millennia old. She spends her time recording history and traveling the world and encountering new cultures. Her long time enemy is religious obscurantism, and the Catholic church spends a lot of resources trying to kill her. (they have conspiracy boards about this immortal witch in the Vatican)

Brook: so ancient he doesn't remember much, other that he came from Kerma culture (2500 BC), loved music, and that his entire village had died from an illness, but he came back. His memory isn't great but if there's one thing he's loved in his Millennia of existence is discovering and learning how to play all the instruments that he could find. He mostly hangs in Vienna nowadays as a music teacher.

Jinbei is a Samoan chieftain from around 1000 BC who one day died during a battle with a Fijian chieftain. When he came back from death he assumed Tagaloa chose him. He loves navigating, sailing, exploring and going on voyages with his people. In more recent times (post european contact) he was forced to ally with the US Navy to protect his people.

Nami: Irish lass from around 800 who's coastal, tiny village was about to be raided by Vikings from Sweden. She made a deal with their chieftain Arlong to go with them and map out the British isles for them to help their raids be more effective and targeted, in exchange for not killing people in her village, and that she would make back the plunder they did not get from this town for them. She started to join their raids to try and make this money, but she died in battle. She came back and they believed her to be some kind of Valkyrie or Einherjer brought back to midgard. She took over the raider's leadership- also Norsemen always had women handle money, which works great here. During her time as an immortal she travels, seeks treasure, double crosses people etc.

Usopp a young double agent/CIA spy from the Cold War who died on a mission. He tragically could not return to his love Kaya because he was afraid of putting her in danger by revealing he was alive to the spies that killed him. He relocates and starts anew constantly, his entire life a web of lies. He's a great marksman/sniper.

Chopper died young of the Bubonic plague in medieval Europe. He resuscitated, tragically his father is infected as well and he's unable to save him- motivating him to get to the bottom of this disease, he decides to become a doctor. Looking like a 15 year old for centuries doesn't make this task easy and he has to hide a lot.

Franky is an American veteran of WWI who was heavily disfigured first, and died later (which is why he's not fully healed and needs prosthetics). He's heavily anti-government from having been sent to fight in such a meaningless war that sacrificed young men like cannon fodder. He learned to fix himself up and make prosthetics and masks for veterans, got into making tech stuff

Luffy is a modern, 21st century 20 something year old from Brazil's favelas. He dies in a gun violence incident (maybe linked to a drug war/gang war where he's been trying to protect his neighbourhood) and comes back, experiencing visions of others like him. He's resolute to find them and make a crew, thinking that with all of them together, maybe they can help liberate the world from opressors and inequality

#it's one am #but i couldnt stop #did all the research i could to match each straw hat with a nice historic period #one piece au #zosan au #zosan fic idea #one piece fic idea #zoro x sanji #i just want the star crossed immortal lovers with lots of lore and cool adventures as #new immortal luffy just goes around collecting these people who have no idea there's others like them #and them going around liberating people #like the scariest undying ten people army that they are #the old guard one piece au #the old guard au #immortal straw hats #straw hat crew #zosan

[whitedarkmoonflower]

Hi, could you write something about Sihtric rescuing a princess (Alfred's daughter) and they both falling in love for each other despite the princess is about to marry somebody else.

Princess

Pairing: Sihtric x reader

Authors note: I must admit this request is already for some time in my inbox. I really hope you are still here to read it, dear Anon. Besides that my real life is a bit demanding right now (I mean it positively), I hesitated to start writing as I thought there are already so many fics about this. But when I finally started, there was no stopping 😅.

Warnings: mention of death, violence, and murder, fluff, angst and, yeah, I got a bit horny at the end, so SMUT, 18+, loss of virginity, sad ending. I am sorry, lately I am not good at happy endings.

Word Count: 7,904

Part 2 Good wife

You were sitting by the window in your room, gazing out at the courtyard. The entire palace buzzed around reminding you a bustling anthill. It had been today as your father had announced your betrothal, and the wedding was swiftly arranged to take place within a week. Such haste was quite out of the ordinary, but there was a compelling reason behind it. Wessex was bracing itself for an impending war. Harald Bloodhair, the recently emerged Danish warlord, was gathering his forces near the borders. Each passing day new warriors were joining him, and his army already exceeded thousand men. Alfred was eager to confront him before his army grew even stronger, but he needed allies. Wessex alone couldn’t bring up the sheer number of skilled and trained warriors necessary for the confrontation.

Lord Ethelwold, one of the wealthiest nobles in East Anglia, had long harboured intentions of marriage with you, but Alfred had thus far deemed him an unsuitable match for his youngest daughter. Lord Ethelwold was notorious for his lack of restrain when it came to drinking and whoring. He was arrogant, reckless, and rude, but he was wealthy, and he had men. His household troops alone numbered around three hundred men, but he could rise much more by rallying his vassals. The shift in circumstances had prompted a swift change in your father’s stance. The decision about your betrothal to Lord Ethelwold had been taken without hesitation and the revelation of it reached you on the very day it was announced in the church—namely, today.

You heard a gentle cough from behind, and a familiar voice greeted you “Good evening, Lady.”

Startled from your reverie, you turned your head slowly and discovered Sihtric standing there.

“I apologize if I have disturbed you. I simply wanted to inform you that I shall be on watch this night,” the soft yet resolute tone of your guardian angel’s voice brought a faint smile appear on your lips.

Sihtric had assumed the role of your bodyguard for the past two months shortly after Alfred's spies had confirmed the lingering rumours—namely, that Bloodhair had dispatched a bunch of warriors to Winchester with a cunning plan to abduct a hostage from the royal family. That was when you had first encountered Sihtric, one of Lord Uhtred’s most trusted warriors and a Dane himself. He had been appointed to ensure your safety, along with several other warriors sent by their respective lords at Alfred’s demand to provide protection for all members of the royal family. It was impossible not to notice the tall, robust, and muscular warrior with his black, curly hair braided on the top, but falling to his shoulders in the back. His strong jawline, scars tracing his forehead and right cheek and the intensity in his big, mismatched eyes created an indelible impression. A captivating mixture of confidence, calmness and strength emanated from him. You caught yourself thinking that if your life were indeed under genuine threat, you would undoubtedly prefer him by your side. There was an undeniable aura of reassurance surrounding him as he bowed and extended his greeting in that gentle yet unwavering voice of his: “My, Lady, the honour is mine.”

From that day onward, you were consistently accompanied by at least one of the guards, and during the night a sentry always stood watch by your chamber’s door.

To say the least, you found little enjoyment in this new arrangement. It was a nuisance and an additional burden, further restricting your already circumscribed life as a princess. You were not allowed to move around freely anymore. The guards frequently denied your requests to visit certain places if they deemed this too dangerous. While it was undoubtedly much easier to ensure your safety within the secure walls of the palace, this had inadvertently made you a prisoner in your own home. To you the guards were simply your prison warders, with one strange exception – Sihtric.

The calm and composed Dane appeared to be the only one to understand how you felt practically locked up in the palace. You quickly noticed that the other guards and even the servants regarded him with suspicion, sometimes even with feud. However, it seemed not to bother the young warrior who did not let his demeanor falter at the strange and suspicious glances others were casting at him. You were curious beyond borders about him, particularly since you had never seen a Danish warrior before. Yet you couldn’t deny that he had somewhat intimidating effect on you, especially considering all the different tales you had heard about Danes and their heathen ways. You had expected him to be harsh, surly, perhaps ill-tempered, or even rude and insolent. Instead, you found yourself profoundly taken aback by his gentle, respectful and humble comportment in your presence.

It was Sihtric who willingly joined you on your journey to your cherished spot by the river, where you enjoyed reading while he patiently leaned against a tree, waiting. He didn’t object when you desired to gather flowers from the meadow, and what was even more important, he agreed when you asked him to accompany you to the small orphanage maintained by the Convent of St. Cuthbert’s Sisters. This was a place you used to visit quite often before. You went there to see the children, to read something to them, to play and sing with them. This was a part of your life you were absolutely unwilling to give up. The children's bright eyes would light up upon your arrival, and their fondness for you was evident as they clung to your dress and hands, eagerly awaiting the small toys you always brought or the captivating tales you told them. It was something that filled you with deep joy as you felt needed and loved.

All your other guards had staunchly opposed your visits. The narrow street leading to the orphanage was obscured by barrels, hay bales, and other stuff. It was hidden from the sight of the patrolling guards overseeing the marketplace and the entrance to the palace. It was a perfect place for an ambush, they had explained to you, when you tried to insist. Yet, you kept asking, hoping that someone would consent to your heartfelt request. Then it was finally Sihtric’s turn to accompany you from the church to the palace and you silently prayed that he would understand you as he had done already before.

“There’s an orphanage just around the corner behind the church. It would mean a great deal to me if you would accompany me there,” you asked with a slightly trembling voice as this was apparently your last chance.

“An orphanage? The Lady wishes to visit an orphanage?” Sihtric's gaze held a mixture of surprise and inquiry, his raised eyebrows signalling his astonishment at your request.

“Yes, please. Would you come with me?” there was something in your voice that drew Sihtric’s attention–the pleading tone, suggesting how important it was for you. Curiosity piqued him as he wondered why a princess would want to visit an orphanage, so he nodded and followed you to the narrow street.

You spent what felt like two or more hours there. The children's joy at your presence was palpable, and you couldn't bring yourself to depart earlier. You had brought two small wooden toys – a horse and a warrior and you played with the children and told them stories about how knights in shiny armour fought dragons and rescued princesses in the past days. They were dirty, their clothes nothing more than rags, but that did not stop you from embracing them and cradling the smallest among them on your lap.

You laughed with them and sang with them and when it was finally time to leave, tears shimmered in your eyes. The sisters were doing their best to provide the children with shelter and meal, but there was never enough silver for that. To ease their burden, you contributed as much as you could spare. One might assume that being a princess meant being rich, but in truth you did not have your own silver and needed to seek your father’s approval for any expenditure.

Throughout your visit, Sihtric leaned against the door frame, his gaze fixed upon you with an intensity that, at times, made you slightly uncomfortable. However, you were deeply grateful that he had granted you this moment of joy.

“That was very kind of you,” you thanked him as you both returned to the palace and ascended toward your quarters.

Sihtric raised an eyebrow, a touch of surprise in his gaze as he regarded you.

“You are the first among the guards who allowed me to go there,” you explained, “But I truly miss the children… and…” you hesitated unsure how to approach him with your next request, fearing he would reject it as too dangerous.

“Would you mind accompanying me to visit the children more often? You’ve seen them–you must understand…” you struggled to find the right words to explain the depth of your feelings, but you did not need to. Sihtric's gaze held an understanding that needed no words.

“Lady, I would be delighted to accompany you,” he nodded, his eyes filled with warmth. To your surprise he arranged for himself to be your companion on every Saturday and Sunday, attending the morning sermons and thereafter visiting the orphanage.

Following another Sunday morning sermon, Sihtric walked alongside you as you turned onto the narrow street behind the church. You should have known that something was wrong from the very first steps—the children's usually audible voices were conspicuously absent today, but even if you were oblivious of the threat, Sihtric instantly noticed the change. Without warning his hand took hold of yours, slowing down your pace.

“Lady, we need to turn back,” he whispered urgently.

“What? Why? No, Sihtric, we can’t, you know…” you couldn’t finish your saying as suddenly a figure sprang before you from the rooftop of a nearby building with an unsheathed sword in the hand. Sihtric instantly shielded you, pulling behind him.

The man raised his sword and lunged towards Sihtric with a loud shout, but Sihtric had already anticipated his move. Stepping aside, he evaded the strike, causing the man’s sword to go down meeting no resistance. The man stumbled slightly, but that was enough for Sihtric. Seizing the moment and using his loss of balance, Sihtric’s hand closed around the man’s throat, while his other hand swiftly drew his dagger, fastened to his back. In a heartbeat the man dropped to his knees, chocking, his both hands pressed at his throat in a futile attempt to stop the gushing blood. You screamed in fear, and, in the next moment, more men materialised from the shadows of the small houses. Sihtric positioned himself again protectively in front of you.

“Lady, please remain behind me, I will protect you. Don’t run, as I don’t know how many men might be waiting further down the street,” his voice exuded a calm certainty that was both reassuring and astonishing. To your surprise you felt your breathing steadying and the dread that had already almost completely consumed you receding.

The subsequent events remained a fragmented blur in your memory. The men lunged at Sihtric, their weapons drawn, stabbing, chopping, and shouting incomprehensibly. It seemed to you that the time has slowed down as you watched how Sihtric danced around them parrying their attacks, kicking at them with his heavy boots, throwing them to the ground and chopping at them with his battle axe. In the blink of an eye, it was over. Sihtric turned to you, his face, armour, and hands stained with blood, as he took a step closer, concern etched into his features.

"Lady, are you unharmed? Are you injured?Please, speak to me!" he inquired, but you just stood there immobilized, eyes widened in sheer horror, gazing upon the lifeless forms strewn upon the street, blood pooling around them. It seemed to you that there was blood everywhere. You shivered, you wanted to look away, but you couldn’t. An eerie chill coursed through your body, rendering you frozen, uncapable to move, consumed by an overwhelming sense of dread. You felt Sihtric grabbing your hand, and as you still did not show any reaction to him, his strong arms wrapped around your trembling shoulders, pulling you close to his chest.

“It is over now,” he murmured into your ear, his gentle voice nudging you back to reality, “You are safe, I promise, I will not let anything happen to you,” his soft voice slowly began to lift your paralysis, gradually rousing you from your frozen state. His rough fingers caressed your hair, anchoring you in the present moment.

“Look at me, lady! Please, look at me,” he cupped your face in his palms, lifting your head until your eyes connected, his thumb tenderly stroking your cheek. Tears welled up in your eyes and streamed down your cheeks, and Sihtric’s embrace tightened, your face pressed against to his wide chest, as you started sobbing uncontrollably, your face buried in his armour.

“Hush, hush, my little princess, my love. Everything is going to be fine,” his words resonated in your consciousness, piercing through the fog of fear, and leaving a burning sensation in your mind as you tried to grasp their meaning. You don’t know for how long you were standing there before you finally regained control over your sobs and became fully aware of your surroundings. Sihtric still held you in his strong arms, soothingly stroking your hair, whispering comforting words in your ear. Suddenly, a profound sense of safety enveloped you, and as your tear-streaked face turned to meet his gaze, a faint smile tugged at your lips before your legs gave way and you lost your consciousness.

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

It all had happened exactly two days ago. It is remarkable how swiftly everything can be turned upside down. A mere day ago, you were hilarious, brimming with joy and gratitude to the fate that had brought Sihtric into your life. You were sure that without him, you wouldn’t have survived the assault. Yet, now, as you sat by your window, observing the people busying around the yard below, you wished that the kidnappers had succeeded. Anything seemed better than the prospect of marrying Ethelwold, but there was nothing you could do about it.

“Thank you, Sihtric,” you responded quietly and turned away in an attempt to hide your tears, but it was too late. Sihtric had already noticed you had been crying. His big, mismatched eyes filled with sympathy as he took a step closer.

“Lady, I regret deeply what happened. I’m sorry that you had to witness it. I assure you that you are safe now. I will not let anything happen to you,” Sihtric’s voice was filled with compassion and genuine care. His words were soft, laced with reassurance, and you found no reason to doubt him. After all, the young warrior had found a special place within your heart long before the dreadful incident.

Initially it was pure curiosity, that made you feel drawn to him, evolving into a genuine awe, that eventually grew into tender affection and sweet longing. The shift happened gradually as the thoughtful and quite warrior slowly opened to you, revealing different layers of his personality – the loyalty, the warmth, the kindness, all concealed behind the rugged exterior. The realisation of your own feelings for the handsome young Dane came even more slowly. You had never felt anything like this before and not to forget – you were a princess. Falling in love with a Dane, heathen and warrior, was out of question for you. But the longer you tried to deny your feelings, the stronger they grew with each passing day. Still, you successfully managed to suppress them until that dreadful assault in the narrow street. You did not know what unsettled you more – the close encounter with death or the emotional surge that overtook you as Sihtric’s strong arms enveloped you, pressing to his chest and caressing your hair. All you wished for was to prolong that moment indefinitely, to remain cradled within Sihtric’s embrace, melt into it, and let the world around you fade away. The realisation that most probably this will never happen again as you were going to be married in a week time, made your heart ache in almost physical, tangible pain.

“Oh, Sihtric, please! There’s truly no need for you to apologise. I am immensely grateful for what you did. It’s me who should be apologising to you for my foolishness, for doubting that the threat was real. If I hadn’t insisted on visiting the orphanage, if I had remained within the palace, none of this would have happened,” your voice was barely audible as you spoke.

You wanted to scream, to beg him to save you once again, to take you away from this palace and your wretched life as a princess and now even worse – as a peace cow to be married away to the most disgusting man you have ever seen. Yet, you remained silent as you knew that it was not in his power to free you from your destiny.

You continued to gaze out the window, ignoring Sihtric, who observed you with a perplexed expression. Something was certainly wrong; he just couldn’t figure out what it was. First seeing your sad and teared eyes, he thought you must be still startled by the events the day before. However, your composed response hinted him that something else had happened in between.

Initially, when Sihtric was assigned the role of a bodyguard for Alfred’s daughter, he was far from being pleased. He was a warrior and not a babysitter. Nonetheless, Uhtred insisted and Sihtric presented himself before Alfred, hoping that the king might reject him anyway. Much to his astonishment, that did not happen. Perhaps, Alfred deemed it prudent to have a Dane among the guards of his daughter, as it was reasonable to expect that the assaulters will probably be Danes as well. This however did not make the others trust or even like Sihtric. Not that this surprised him; he was used to that. What did surprise him was your non-judgemental attitude. He had expected you to despise him, even to hate him. After all, what else could he anticipate from a princess brought up in a place where everybody seemed to hate Danes. His awe knew no bounds when you greeted him on that very first day with a warm and genuine smile.

Your eyes sparkled with curiosity and nothing in your behaviour made him feel despised or unwanted. Quite the opposite. Swiftly, he found himself growing fond of you – his little princess, as he called you in his thoughts. You were cheerful, full of energy and treated everybody around you with equal warmth and kindness. Your liveliness was contagious, and Sihtric noticed how his mood inexplicably lifted in your presence. Your genuine interest in him, without a hint of suspicion or prejudice, touched a chord within him. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced, and for the first time, he felt at ease sharing with someone fragments of his life. Your unpretentious and unburdened smile was the last thing that lingered in his mind before he drifted off to sleep each night. Sihtric thought you beautiful, not only in your physical appearance, but in the very essence of your being. Beautiful and utterly unreachable.

The first time Sihtric consciously noticed that his affection had evolved into something more profound and powerful was during your visit to the orphanage. Standing in the doorway, he leaned against the frame, watching you playing with the children. A profound and unexplainable warmth filled his heart, captivating him. His gaze remained locked on you, as if he were drinking in the aura of the love and tenderness that radiated from your being. In that moment, a realisation struck him that he would willingly do anything to witness your unbridled happiness. But even then, he managed to dismiss the feeling as being foolish, naïve, and impossible. Falling in love with a princess appeared to him as the most ridiculous thing he could imagine.

The moment he knew he had utterly lost his inner struggle, when he could no longer deny the intensity of his love for you, occurred in the aftermath of that brief battle. The mere thought that you might be injured and hurt terrified him to the extent that all rationality left him. In that moment he completely forgot everything as he enfolded you in a protective embrace, drawing you close to his chest, cradling and soothing you. The memory of that moment remained etched in his mind. The sensation of oblivion enveloped him as he tenderly stroked your hair, breathed in your delicate aroma, and felt the velvety touch of your skin against his fingertips.

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

“Your services will no longer be required after one more week,” Sihtric was caught by surprise by the sudden announcement from the chief guard. “The lady is soon to be wed and will depart for her husband’s estate.”

“The lady is to be married?” Sihtric repeated in surprise as the news slowly sank into his consciousness. His “little princess” was getting married. He had always known his feelings were impossible, a sheer madness beyond comprehensible, he was fully aware of the unlikelihood of them being reciprocated. However, he hadn’t anticipated this fairy tale to end so swiftly and abruptly.

“Perhaps it’s for the best. It was meant to end anyway. Better sooner than later, before the last remnants of my common sense have faded away,” he thought to himself, clenching his fists tightly, his chuckles turning white under the strain.

The remaining week leading up to the wedding passed for Sihtric in somewhat like an indistinct haze. He found no opportunity to speak to you or even to see you. The walks by the riverside had ceased, no more flower-picking in the meadow, not even strolls within the garden. You remained within the palace, always surrounded by attendants, your mother – the queen herself – a constant presence at your side, willing to discuss every single detail of the upcoming wedding, be it the attire, jewellery, floral arrangements, or the feast. Oddly, Sihtric couldn't help but think that this was perhaps a blessing in disguise. What could he possibly say to you? Confess his imprudent feelings and elicit a pitying smile? That wasn't what he wanted. The only sensible thing to do was to maintain distance and to leave the palace as soon as possible, before his emotions would grow stronger, as they were already inflicting considerable pain.

Finally, all was settled. With Alfred’s consent Sihtric was set to depart on the morrow - the day before the wedding. In truth Sihtric was relieved, as he was glad, he would not have to watch the ceremony. His meager belongings were packed neatly in a saddlebag, resting upon a chair within his modest room at the tavern. He had not been given a room in the palace and had stayed at the tavern his lodging paid by the king. He was ready to retire for the night; his leather armour draped across a chair, his weapons arranged upon the table.  It was in this moment that an unexpected knock echoed through the room, startling Sihtric. He hesitated as he was not expecting anybody at such a late hour. The knock repeated, prompting him to pull the latch and swing the door open with an annoyed look on his face, only to be met by a silhouette hidden beneath a dark cape.

“What the hell…” he exclaimed in astonishment, his hand instinctively reaching for his dagger on his back, only to discover it was not there this time, laying on the table amid his other weapons.   

“May I come in?” the voice emanating from beneath the cape sent Sihtric's heart racing. It was a voice both familiar and cherished, a voice he had believed he might never hear again.  Overwhelmed by disbelief, Sihtric took a step back, allowing the cloaked figure to enter his chamber, and then quietly closed the door behind.

“I heard you are departing,” the voice spoke with a hint of reproach, as two delicate hands took off the hood revealing the bearer of the voice, his “little princess”. To say that Sihtric was surprised would be an understatement. He stood frozen in disbelief, slowly shaking his head as if attempting to dispel a dream, an impossible illusion conjured by his own fevered mind. Your eyes studied Sihtric, registering that he was shirtless and barefoot, clad only in his breeches. You swallowed hard as your eyes traced the contours of his bare chest. Awkwardness hung heavily in the air, a palpable silence enveloping the room as neither of you moved or uttered a word. Regret, like an unwelcome visitor, began to creep into your thoughts. What were you even doing here? A royal daughter, a princess of Wessex, standing alone in the presence of a half-dressed man – a Dane and a heathen, no less.

The sheer absurdity of the situation struck you, making you shiver in embarrassment under the cape.  

"I've been dismissed, my lady. With your father's approval, I am returning to Cochem," Sihtric finally broke the silence, his voice striving to remain casual, though it was almost impossible.

“You didn’t even wish to bid me farewell?” your eyes continued scanning Sihtric’s appearance, seeking something within his demeanour, a concealed sign, any trace that would hint to you, that your impulsive decision to come here might not be as foolish as your common sense suggested. Your gaze lingered on his arms, recalling how they had embraced you, before moving to his hands. You could almost feel the tender pressure of his fingers against your skin, his touch caressing your cheek. There had been an undeniable gentleness in his actions, a softness and affection woven into his words. Or had you just imagined it all? You were embarrassed and angry at yourself. There was no rational explanation for your presence here; you were merely making a complete fool of yourself.

“You were preoccupied with wedding preparations, my lady. And besides, who am I to encroach upon your precious time? I apologise if I have offended you; that was never my intent. I merely did not wish to bother you,” it took Sihtric all his inner strength to maintain his composure and stay calm. Yet there was something in his voice that caught your attention.

“No, no! No offence taken! It’s just… I wanted to express my gratitude once more for saving my life,” you stumbled over your words, your voice growing almost inaudible as you added, “And I won’t forget what you said to me afterward.” 

Sihtric raised his eyebrow, well aware of what he had said to you. He had been berating and cursing himself for his impulsive words ever since they left his lips. He had felt relieved as it seemed that you had been too shocked at that moment to register his words, but now it was evident that they had not gone unnoticed. Sihtric’s expression changed instantly, his gaze dropping to the floor in an attempt to escape the contact with your eyes, but not fast enough as you caught a glimpse of the mingled pain and humiliation shadowing his features.

“Lady, please believe me. I never intended to be disrespectful toward you,” Sihtric’s voice trembled with emotion as he continued to avoid direct eye contact with you, “Please forgive me if my words, spoken in a moment of deep concern for your safety, made you feel uncomfortable.”

“Oh, no! No, they didn’t. I just needed to … I wanted to ask if you truly meant what you said,” your heart raced within your chest as you took a hesitant step closer, reaching out to clasp Sihtric's hand, as though afraid he might vanish before providing the answer you so desperately sought.

“Lady, please don’t,” Sihtric’s voice wavered as he tried to withdraw his hand, a mixture of apprehension and longing in his eyes.

“Do what?”

“Don’t make me say something, I’ll regret for the rest of my days, even if it’s true.”

“Sihtric, I am losing my mind all this week, thinking that it all was merely a cruel creation of my imagination,” your own audacity startled you. You were almost confessing your feelings to a near stranger, a man you hardly knew and would likely never see again.

“My little princess, my love,” Sihtric slowly repeated the words with a heavy sigh, his gaze finally lifting to meet yours, “I meant every single word, my lady. There’s no escape for me. Regardless of where I go or what happens to me, I will always love you,” the pain laced in Sihtric’s voice was palpable. He loved you, knowing that there was no future for you both. Worlds separated you – a Saxon princess destined to wed an East Anglian nobleman, and him - an outsider, a despised Dane, a heathen, and a warrior with nothing to offer apart from life in perpetual danger and suspense. Despite it all, he found himself incapable of tearing his gaze away from you. Unconsciously, his fingers entwined with yours as you still hadn’t let go of his hand, and his forehead drew near slowly touching yours.

The world spun around you, the weight of Sihtric’s words finally sinking in, a burning sensation coursing through you, just like the first time you heard them. He loved you. It was neither a dream, not a cruel gameplay of your overheated mind. He loved you. In this very moment it was all that mattered. Those few words had changed your entire universe.

“I love you, too,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you leaned in and pressed your lips to Sihtric's. The kiss was tentative, your inexperience evident in the gentle brush of your lips against his, but it made all the last remnants of common-sense crumble in Sihtric’s mind as he responded with a fervour of a starving man savouring a long-awaited feast. His lips and tongue melded with yours, an intoxicating dance of desire and need. Sihtric’s kiss was soft, yet demanding, his lips brushing, sucking, and gently biting yours with ravenous eagerness and passion, leaving you breathless. Your head was spinning, and dizziness enveloped you as you yielded to his passion. You closed your eyes and your lips parted in a soft moan against his mouth. Sihtric's tongue slipped into your mouth, a hungry exploration that set your heart racing. His hands found your waist, drawing you closer, the heat of his touch searing through your skin. The kiss was an inferno of love, warmth, and raw emotion that left you gasping for air, lost in a realm of sensation you had never experienced before, and you wished for it to continue indefinitely.

Reality crashed upon Sihtric like a tidal wave, jolting him from the whirlwind of desire. With an abrupt motion, he broke the kiss, pulling away from you. His hand cupped your chin, his forehead resting against yours as he fought to regain his composure.

“Princess, this is madness,” his voice trembled, his eyes shut, his breath ragged. “Please, don’t do this to me. Do not awaken hope when there is none. You must leave, now, before your absence is discovered.”

Your gaze remained locked on him, your heart pounding, unable to say anything or even gather your thoughts from the intensity of emotions that swirled through you. Slowly, you reached out, your hand grazing his cheek, your thumb tracing the contours of his skin. Being this close to him made you shiver.

“I can’t…, I don’t want to,” you whispered, your voice a delicate plea. “Sihtric, please… This is my last night of my already so limited freedom, and I want to spend it with you. I want you to be the first man to touch me, to make love to me. Please, don’t reject me.”

There it was, laid bare before him, the true reason you had come, the decision you had made, dismissed and taken again during the last sleepless nights until it had transformed in firm resolve.

Your life had always been predetermined and dictated by obligations and duty; your choices limited by being a king’s daughter. You had accepted that. You knew that the alliance with Lord Ethelwold was necessary for Wessex to stand up against the Danes and you were indeed willing to bring that sacrifice by marrying him. However, there was one decision in your life that you were not willing to allow to be taken from you. And that was the reason you had come, driven by a fervent hope that the man you had irrevocably fallen in love with might feel the same way.

Slowly you untied your cape and let it drop to the floor, your gaze locked with Sihtric’s. His pupils grew wider, and his breath fastened as you placed your hands on his bare chest, letting your fingers travel down to his stomach in a tender brush. You hesitated a moment when your fingers reached his waist and the hem of his breaches and Sihtric quickly seized your hands and raised them to his mouth, placing gentle kisses on your palms.

“Princess, please, stop before it’s too late,” Sihtric leaned in closer and buried his face in your neck breathing in your scent, his fingers intertwining with yours “I am flattered, I truly am. But you don’t understand what you are asking from me.” Sihtric closed his eyes and placed a gentle kiss on your neck and then another one on your jaw, feeling painfully strained in his breeches. He desired you, no, he craved for you beyond imaginable. Your smell, your breath against his skin, your soft lips, and the feel of your body so close to him and yet so unreachable and forbidden drew him to madness. His mind told him to step back, to let go of you, but he couldn’t. With all his willpower he tried to suppress the urge to kiss you again, knowing that if he did, he probably wouldn’t be able to stop himself anymore.

“I am asking you to save me from misery and grant me the freedom of choice. I want to feel love and desire, even if that’s only for one single night. My future husband is far away from being a fairy tale prince. Can you imagine what will be my first night with him? I can, I am not that naïve as you think of me, Sihtric,” you pressed your body to his, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer, making Sihtric groan loudly, lust and desire consuming him.

Sihtric’s lips found yours and crushed against them with the same unsatiable hunger as before, setting your mind on fire. His hands moved down to your waist, holding you firmly pressed against his muscular body, and you were melting in his strong embrace, feeling a shiver going down your spine and your legs getting week and wobbly. He made a step forward pressing you against the door, his lips traveling down to your jaw and then further to you neck, placing greedy wet open-mouthed kisses on their way, while his hands started tugging the laces of your dress with fumbling fingers. You couldn’t help but smile in anticipation as you helped him to untie and unlace everything until the dress slid down your shoulders and dropped to the ground, revealing your naked upper body, and leaving you only with your ruffled silk underpants. Sihtric’s eyes studied your body for a moment, drinking in all the small details, lines, and curves and then his lips were back on your neck.

“You are so beautiful,” he murmured against your skin, placing soft gentle kisses down to your breasts, licking and sucking gently at your hard aroused nipples. A strange burning sensation settled in your lower body and slowly consumed you, blurring your mind and vision, making you whine in pleasure your fingers trailing Sihtric’s back.    

“Princess, are you sure, you want this?” Sihtric’s hoarse voice reached through your dizzied mind. You wanted to say something, but not a sound came out of your dry throat, overpowered by the overwhelming sensation of Sihtric’s touch on your body you just moaned tangling your fingers in his hair.

“Say it! I need to hear it,” Sihtric demanded, whispering in your ear as his hands slowly trailed down to your waist and started untangling the lace that was holding your underpants.

“Yes, I want it. I need it. I want you,” you finally managed to form the words, tugging harder at his hair. Your answer sounded like a desperate plea. You were already flying from the touch of his lips and hands on your body and were eager for more. You wanted him. You burned for him. You loved him and trusted him. A lustful smile curled on your lips, hearing Sihtric groan as he kneeled before you, pulling down your legs the last remaining peace of clothe covering you and revealing you completely naked before him.

“My princess, my sweet little princess, you are so breath-taking beautiful. This must be a dream, but I don’t want to wake from it,” he murmured against your skin pressing his nose to your cunt, breathing in your smell, and placing a soft kiss on it. Waves of heat washed all over your body. You had never felt anything comparable to this before.

Sihtric rose to his feet and lifted you in his strong arms with no effort at all. He cradled you to his chest and carried to his bed, placing you gently down and positioning himself beside you, his hand touching your cheek and turning your head to face him.

“If you change your mind, princess, if you want me to stop, just say it. You can stop me anytime. This is all about you tonight. You are in charge, don’t forget it,” Sihtric said quietly, but seriously. “Do you understand? Tell me!” he insisted, locking his gaze with yours.

“Yes, I do. I trust you,” you whispered back, cupping his face with both hands and leaning closer to kiss him. You started by moving your lips gently along his and in the very moment Sihtric’s lips parted as he answered your kiss, your tongue slid into his mouth. Eager to show him what a good learner you are, you licked hungrily into his mouth, your tongue finding his, curling around it, sucking at it, your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer to you. Sihtric kissed you back with the same passion, setting the world around you in spiralling motion again. He broke the kiss, earning a disappointing whimper from you, a lustful smile on his lips.

“I want to show you something, my love,” he purred in your ear, moving his body over yours, parting your legs and positioning himself between your thighs. His mouth started travelling down your neck to your breasts and further down to your stomach, placing soft kisses all over your body on its way. He did not stop there, his body moved further down between your legs, his mouth continuing to place soft kisses on its way now reaching your inner thigh. You stiffened from the unfamiliar sensation that filled you.

“Relax, my little princess. You will enjoy it, believe me,” Sihtric murmured, his lips moving closer and closer to your core until his wet tongue slid over your clit, licking further through you folds. You moaned heavily, digging your nails in the bedsheets, grabbing them with full force and arching your back off the mattress in obscene pleasure, as Sihtric continued devouring you, his tongue circling your clit, licking and sucking it. His soft moans against your core let you know he was enjoying it as much as you did. Your hips started to move frantically, uncontrollably against his tongue, your climax building up quickly and just as you thought there can’t be any rise in the pleasure washing over you, you felt Sihtric pushing a finger inside you.

“Oh my God!” you whimpered.

“Does it feel good, my princess?” Sihtric murmured.

“God! Sihtric! It feels divine,” you cried out as he continued to move his finger in and out of you, his tongue never leaving your clit. It was the last bit you needed to reach your peak. It washed over you in an overwhelming wave, making you cry out Sihtric’s name, pure bliss pulsing through your veins. Sihtric’s hands took hold of your hips, holding you steady in the place, his tongue continuing licking and sucking at your already over sensitive pearl. You wanted to escape him, to move away from his tongue, but he did not let you, holding you firmly until you surrendered yourself to him feeling another wave of pleasure building up and washing over you even more intense as the first one.

“Common, little princess, you can make it one more time for me. You can be loud. Don’t be afraid. I adore those wonderful sounds you make,” Sihtric hummed, pushing two fingers deep inside you and continuing to fuck you slowly with his fingers his mouth never letting go of your pussy. And you came again against his tongue and fingers, with your lips parted as you screamed out your pleasure.

“I think you are ready now. I am so sorry. It might hurt, my love, but I will be gentle,” Sihtric breathed in your ear, undoing his breeches, releasing at last his stone hard cock and placing it at your entrance.

“Princess, do you want me to?” he asked.

“Yes, Sihtric! Yes! I want to. Please, take me,” you begged. Receiving your permission Sihtric started to push slowly inside you, his thumb circling your clit. It hurt, he was so big, stretching you painfully. You buried your fingers in the bedsheets, trying to hide the pain, not wanting him to notice, but a pained whimper escaped your lips. Sihtric stopped immediately.

“Do you want me to stop? Princess, look at me! Just tell me to stop, and I will,” his voice so full of genuine concern made you want him even more. You craved for him and wanted to pleasure him just as he did it for you just before. You shook your head.

“No, I want you. Just give me a moment to adjust,” you pleaded and Sihtric leaned in to kiss you, his lips brushing gently against yours.

“I love you, my little princess. I love you with all my heart. I want you to know that,” he whispered, as his lips descended on your nipples, sucking gentle at them, and setting you on fire again.

“Sihtric, take me! Don’t hold back. I need you! You are the best, that could ever happen to me,” you murmured, placing your hands on his hips and trying to pull him towards you.

Sihtric resumed his movement pushing further inside you and you screamed out shortly as you felt him forcing into you until the very end of his length, tears welling up in the corners of your eyes.

“Husch, my love. That’s it, you have me,” Sihtric whispered kissing away your tears as you felt something warm dripping down your thigh. Before you even managed to register what had happened, he pulled out and pushed slowly back again into you, and then again and again, his pace slow and gentle in the beginning, but fastening with every thrust, transforming still lingering pain into absolute, indescribable pleasure as his length stretched and filled you, making you mewl and whine under the movements of his hips against yours. Your nails were digging into Sihtric’s back as you tried to hold onto him, and your hips started to move against his making him thrust even deeper into you.

“You take me so good,” Sihtric groaned, continuing his movements, his breath getting faster, “You are perfect, just made for me and I love you so much!” he murmured softly against your mouth, kissing you jerky.

“Oh my God, Sihtric! It feels so good! You feel so good!” you breathed out, wanting to praise him, to let him know how good he was to you, your breath getting faster and shallower with each trust, your obscure moans filling the room and mingling with Sihtric’s grunts.

“Cum for me, little princess. I want you to cum on my cock, screaming my name.” Sihtric hissed, locking his gaze with yours, “Let yourself fly! I am holding you,” his hips kept rutting against yours, his breath heavy and unsteady, being close to his own high. He wetted his thumb with his tongue and moved it to your clit, rubbing it gently and with that last touch he pushed you over the edge. Your orgasm, the fourth and the most intense in this night, hit you like a heavy storm. You felt your inner walls clench around Sihtric’s cock as the waves of pleasure and relief washed over you, making your body shake and tremble against his as you came moaning loudly, arching your back and crying out his name in pure bliss. Sihtric continued to fuck you slowly through your orgasm, letting you savour each and every wave of pleasure, his eyes drinking in the sight of you writhing beneath him.

“You are so good to me. I am so close, my love,” he whispered, “I will not cum inside you if you do not want to,” he whispered his nose nuzzling at your neck.

“Sihtric! My love! I want you, all of you, everything of you,” you moaned grabbing his hips and pushing yourself against him. This was all he needed, a few more thrusts and he came instantly with a loud growl, spilling himself deep inside you, pressing you into the mattress with his weight as he collapsed over you, breathing heavily into the crook of your neck. You stayed so for a while, your arms around him, your fingers brushing through his hair, his lips placing soft kisses on you neck and shoulder. With a heavy sigh Sihtric pulled out and laid beside you, his arms still around your waist, pulling you closer to him, cradling you in the crook of his body.

“Stay with me,” he purred into your ear, his voice dripping with longing “I know this is madness, princess. This entire night is a whirlwind of madness.”

“Sihtric, I can’t,” you replied, your voice a fragile whisper. “I love you, and that will never change. But I can’t. My father… Wessex … we need that alliance,” your heart ached at these words.

“I love you too, my little princess,” Sihtric’s voice was hoarse. “There will never be another in my life. I am all yours, and I will be waiting for you,” the seriousness and confidence in Sihtric’s voice made you shiver. You turned to face him, your lips trembling as they met his in a tender kiss.

“I can’t ask that from you,” you whispered, cupping his cheek.

“That’s not just a promise; it’s a certainty, my love,” Sihtric's arms enveloped you in a tight embrace. “I will wait for you, and whether in this life or the next, you will be mine.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision as you rested against his strong chest, feeling the truth of his words echoing in your mind.

Part 2 Good wife

#sihtric #sihtric kjartansson #sihtric x reader #sihtric fic #tlk #the last kingdom #tlk fic #sihtric x you #the last kingdom fanfic #sihtric fanfic #tlk fanfic

[istandonsnowpiles]

East Falls Church Station

#black and white #virginia #metro #east falls church #east falls church metro station #december #around dc #my work #photography

[nerdpoe]

Omegaverse Worldbuilding for Coffee, Honey, and sometimes Hazelnuts.

do u really wanna know? fine.

Here are my disjointed, mostly drunk notes.

Genetics here from @omega-girl-in-heat

Packs:

Bonds between pack members don’t send emotions so much as they just send “I’m hurt” or a notification of death.

Death Notifications are always traumatic, and while everyone describes it differently, general consensus is that it fucking hurts.

Bruce felt so bad about Jason’s death because his bond not only did not dissipate, but it never sent the notification. It always just sat there, with no change. Like if Jason had gone to school.

Bonds can be forcibly broken only by Betas, and there’s Betas employed by shelters for abused spouses who specialize in breaking bonds when the other party does not want to let go.

Otherwise bonds can be broken by both party’s consent

The head of the Pack is the one who falls into that category; it’s actually usually Omegas, but it can be Alphas and Betas. In fact, in England it was a serious issue how many Noble families were actually Omegan-led instead of Alpha-led, and it was a general consensus that if you saw something, no you fucking didn’t.

The head of the pack holds sway over pack decisions. They have the house that’s used for get togethers, and keep in touch with other pack members when they are not in said house.

The amount of power said head has depends on the culture. In American culture, they can be rebelled against with little to no societal ramnifications.

Other countries have different rules, though, but again; it largely depends on the society.

Packs are unique to each person, but typically the family Pack will be their first, and that one has their Pack Leader or Pack head.

Society, General Overview:

Alphas were viewed as the more dominant and superior secondary gender (leftover mentality from England) until about the American Civil War, when Omegas and Betas forced themselves into the military, banding together to take out anyone in their way.

After fighting shoulder to shoulder, motions were put in place to guarantee equal rights for secondary genders.

Slavery still persisted, because humans love to discriminate against SOMETHING.

Norway, Denmark, Sweden, Finland, Iceland, and Greenland have had equal rights since the dawn of their civilizations, and the discrimination from other countries actually led to a few wars.

In China, Omegas are still seen as the superior secondary gender, and Alphas are seen as the lessor. Betas are often the butt of everyones jokes.

In Japan Betas are viewed as weak, and it is the Alpha and Omegas job to protect them. It’s a purely cultural thing, however, as on paper they all have equal rights.

In South Korea Nulls are seen as superior, and Betas a close second. In North Korea, the superior secondary gender is whatever the secondary gender of the current leader is.

In the middle east you get your more traditional Omegaverse setting, although there are many equal rights groups fighting to rectify it and most of the population of those countries knows those beliefs are bullshit.

Mexico granted equal rights a century sooner than America.

Too many countries to count and I’m drunko we good here to this extent.

Society, Historical Figures (why did i make this list????? but here it is????????? adolf hitler mention warning tho i think i was trying to show precedent that secondary genders really don't mean shit in terms of morality.)

Adolf Hitler - Omega. Stalin - Beta. Genghis Khan - Alpha. Albert Einstein - Null. Abraham Lincoln - Beta. Alexander the Great - Omega Cleopatra - Alpha Ludwig van Beethoven - Beta Michelangelo - Omega (the church def tried to paint him as a whore but they failed spectacularly) Isaac Newton - Omega Charles Darwin - Alpha William Shakespeare - Null

Abilities and Consequences:

Alpha Command -Primarily meant to lead others to safety Beta Coercion -Primarily meant to talk over conflict to offer a solution Omega Rebuke -Primarily meant to give out orders to Alphas and Betas

Scruffing someone who isn’t pack or in a good place to be scruffed will only activate their fight response, not their submission.

Basically, scruffing can only happen with the consent of the scruffed.

Attempting to scruff someone against their will can and will drive them into a feral state of self defense.

This can be bypassed by drugging the scruffee, however if you’ve drugged them then why scruff them?

Alphas and Omegas, while more fertile during Heat/Rut, aren’t really driven to have sex unless their significant other is present and they’re in the mood. Just slightly more horny, if at all.

While they can work during a Heat or Rut, it’s considered incredibly rude to force someone to work through it, so Alphas and Omegas typically do not. Mandatory PTO is in the USA regarding a Heat or a Rut, and even Betas and Nulls are able to get it via association with an Alpha or Omega that wants them nearby. (That last one is more recent, and it took years to get that, but it’s been in place for about fifteen years).

Omegas can Purr, Alphas can growl, Betas can do quieter versions of both and typically do what feels better to them.

Brief History of Transitioning:

It is possibly for someone to change secondary genders.

Earliest recorded instances in Medieval France of “Bitching”, or surrounding an Alpha with so many Alphas and Alpha scent and pheromones that the secondary gender transitions permanently to Omega.

Unethical Experimentation performed by Nazi Germany and Axis Japan led to the discovery of basically the ability to transition to any other secondary gender, and the discovery that secondary genders aren’t set in stone.

There are stipulations; the other secondary gender must be a recessive gene already present in the individual.

An AA Alpha cannot transition to an Omega, but an Ao Alpha can.

An OO Omega cannot transition into a Beta, but an Oa Omega can.

Any secondary gender can transition to Null, but once Null there’s no way to transition to a secondary gender.

A Beta cannot transition to an Alpha or an Omega, but they hold the traits of both genders anyways, just without Heats or Ruts. Beta bodies are designed to assist the pack as needed, so if more sires are needed Alpha traits will shine through, but if more Pups are needed Omega traits will shine through.

With the end of WW2, it was a battle to get transitioning legalized. Turkey actually legalized it first, and created some of the worlds best Transitioning centers.

Other countries followed, and by 1955, Transitioning is seen a legal pretty much anywhere in the world with the exception of Canada. (this is mostly because the Native Tribes practiced Transitioning freely, and the government is still trying to stomp them out, so it’s just overlooked for anyone who is not a Native.)

#omegaverse au #worldbuilding #don't fuck #fuckinnnnn look at me #my drunk mind saw omegaverse and was like #“how would I write this...” #and then it did #here it is #i may write more it was a fun little thing. #adolf hitler mention #stalin mention #only because apparently i made a list of random historical figures and their secondary genders #idk man #ask drunk me #oh wait u can't i'm totally sober now

[evermoredeluxe]

Explain But Daddy I Love Him's first verse like I actually have schizoaffective

“i forget how the west was won, i forget if this was ever fun, i just learned these people only raise you to cage you, sarahs and hannahs in their sunday best, clutching their pearls, sighing, “what a mess,” i just learned these people try and save you cause they hate you”

“west” is a metaphor for her career because the west is considered successful and more advanced than the east, and she’s saying that her she forgets how she even got to this point of apparently having it all (imo it’s really smart because the west is considered better, and all of its issues are hidden under a rug and ignored to maintain the image of composure and being the best). she forgets that it was attained by making fan connections and she forgets that she actually enjoys this and loves the relationship we have. she doesn’t remember because she just had the realization that people give you everything so that you feel indebted to them, and then they tell you that you have to listen to them and follow whatever they’re saying because they’re the reason you’re doing well. sarah and hannah are common names, and she means that a ton of random people who are apparently doing everything perfectly, going to church and being good, are talking about what a mess she is. (also, sarah and hannah are biblical figures and it actually relates to the church, but idk a lot about that stuff, so if someone else can break that meta connection down). “clutching their pearls” means being shocked, and she means that they are shocked that she is letting this happen. she just learned that people put you on a pedestal so high that it’s impossible to not fall, and when you eventually do fall down, they save you and then control you, and they’re playing this messy game with her because, in reality, they don’t love her, they hate her.

#it kinda sounds very dark when i break it down #when im listening to it im smiling and dancing lmfao #we’re basically getting admonished by her #bdilm #but daddy i love him #ttpd #the tortured poets department #arshia takes #anonymous #replies

[cloudyswritings]

city of tears headcanons

what it says on the tin.

The city was actually built with the rain in mind, the design perplexed a lot of the bugs who were first building it, but the kings foresight pulled through in the end and built a city that could withstand millennia of rain.

Speaking of rain, the rain falling from the blue lake above was actually initially more of a flood/heavier rain, the citizens however liked the mood it created so much that they eventually used magic to perpetuate the downpour while reducing it to a more manageable flow.

The city is much, much larger than we see in cannon, and had a very diverse mix of bugs due to being the capital of hallownest(which is a trade kingdom roughly in the middle of the wyrm wastes).

Places of note:

Buzzers: a quaint little dive bar on lower west side of the city. It’s run by an old bald faced hornet who gives the restaurant its name. This bar mainly caters to the predatory bugs of Hallownest but all bugs are welcome. This place is famous for its hemolymph wine and exquisite(read greasy as hell) gruzzer steaks.

The Confluece of Waters: a massive concert hall in the east side of the city, this is the place where all of the waterways of the city meet up. The walls of this building are actually just made up of waterfalls and channels, it’s a truly impressive feat of engineering. Despite the omnipresent sound of water the acoustics inside the building itself are actually fantastic.

Hegemols school for young knights: this academy is the main location where future knights and members of the Hallownest military are trained. It’s nominally overseen by Hegemol, who scouts upcoming knights to present to the king, however his duties mean it’s largely run by the educators present. It’s located at the edge of the western part of the city. Bugs of all walks of life can apply here, and many see it as a way to move up in station.

Chauncey’s: A shop belonging to an orb weaver spider named Chauncey, they’re not from deepnest, or even the regions surrounding Hallownest. They moved to the city with hopes of becoming the best known tailor in the kingdom, success however hasn’t been forthcoming. The prejudices of the bugs of hallownest have made business tough for them. However the king himself recently commissioned works from them in something of a scandal.

The embassy of Unn: This building is located on the Easter half of the city and is where Isma reports back to Unn with news regarding the pale court. The building itself was grown over the course of many seasons and the walls are entirely made of living plant matter. It also serves as a temple/church to Unn for those in the city who worship her.

#hollow knight #headcanon #city of tears #hk hegemol #hk isma #worldbuilding

[mapping-elysium]

Coast Orb: Snow Shivers

WEST

More coast with abandoned buildings and piers

Pre-revolution effort to gentrify the coast

Coal city

Boom town from when revachol was powered mostly by coal

“in the shadow of Saint-Martin”

Supplanted by offshore petroleum and hydropower from Esperance

Infrastructure crumbled. Now a poor area “only the weakest remain”

Below the mines: L'Ossuaire Municipal, Revachol's underground cemetery

Les Petits rats attempt to to find Le Royaume (royal burial chambers)

EAST

Canal and Martinaise

[see PLAZA ORB] whitest part of town

Run-off point of a long forgotten canal

NORTH

Church

1 of 2 remaining stave churches

Originally of a set of 8 called Les Sept Souers “other six sisters were destroyed during the revolutions”

World’s end

Islets

Sea Fortress: The 114th Anti-Aircraft Division of the 4th Army of the Commune of Revachol

Résurrection: Popular spa for  Ozonne residents

A couple of other islets scattered and uninhabited

Martinaise Inlet

Bay of Revachol

1200 m depth

Ozonne

SOUTH

8/81 - raised motorway

Separates Martinaise from Jamrock

Buildings under the motorway (Labyrinthine alleyways)

The Pox

Once a park for the Old Military Hospital

In the 20s was a quarantine center during measles outbreak

Abandoned after the outbreak

Completely wild now, overrun by feral dogs and wolves

Police keep deepest corners cordoned off

Precinct 41

Line of motor garages 

Repurposed silk mill

Central Jamrock

Utility district - Library, florist, saramisizian restaurant

Brothels, drug dens and Zemlyaki(gang) chopshops

Built around lake formed by meteorite strike [Ship in the middle]

Below

sand poisoned with industrial run-off. The storm drainage. Hidden bunkers

NOTES: This is unfortunately the last of the notes I had written ahead of time so things may move slower. Hopefully I've made enough posts that you all can understand the format I'm going for. Joyce's Reality Lowdown is going to take a long time to work through

Shivers - Winter, slow to let go of Revachol, flecks some more wet snow from above...

You - Look around you.

Shivers - The snow falls lazily, making the beach sand paler still, mixing with the rust-coloured sewage run-off.

Shivers - And to think -- it seemed as though it were already spring.

You - How does it feel?

Shivers - Your teeth chatter as the snow melts on your exposed skin, running down your chest and your back in icy rivulets. To distract yourself, you look around...

Replaced with "Your teeth chatter as the snow melts on your exposed skin, running down your chest and your back in icy rivulets. The toes of your one bare foot are growing numb. To distract yourself, you look around..." if HasShoes() == false and (CheckEquipped("shoes_snakeskin_left") or CheckEquipped("shoes_snakeskin_right"))

Replaced with "Your teeth chatter as the snow melts on your exposed skin, running down your chest and your back in icy rivulets. Your bare feet are growing numb. To distract yourself, you look around..." if HasShoes() == false

You - What's in the west?

Shivers - More winding coastline lined with abandoned buildings. Crumbling piers, salt water lapping at their dark piles. Grey and red, forgotten city blocks. What remains of the pre-revolutionary effort to gentrify the coast.

You - And beyond that?

Shivers - The waters turn black. Coal City in the shadow of Saint-Martin, a boom town, back when coal extracted from countless shafts near the city was needed to power Revachol.

Shivers - No more. The coal was supplanted by petroleum from the ocean floor and hydropower from the Esperance. Everything crumbled. These days, only the weakest remain in Coal City. Their hopes of getting rich linger in the defunct shafts under their feet.

You - What is there?

Shivers - Below the old mines -- L'Ossuaire Municipal, Revachol's underground cemetery. *Les petits rats* brave the underground passageways, trying to get to Le Royaume...

You - Le Royaume...

Shivers - ...where the Filippian kings were interred, with their doctors and their admirals. Mausoleums, burial chambers, leaf gold still remains on the Double Door of the Morning.

You - That's where Cuno said he's gonna go...

Shivers - Yes. To peel the gold off with his fingernails.

You - Les *petits rats*...

Shivers - Children under 14. They go underground, looking for artefacts to sell to foreign museums -- and for fabled relics. Their parents let them. They go deeper...

You - Deeper...

Shivers - ...after rubies, melchiorite, lapis lazuli plundered from Safre and Seol during the time of the Suzerain. In the burial chambers of the kings: Grand Old Filippe, Guillaume II, and even in the mausoleum of Filippe the Opulent.

Shivers - Two kilometres underground, in a winding shaft along whose walls mirrors have been placed so that daylight may eternally fall upon the richest of all the kings.

Shivers - The mausoleum contains untold quantities of gold -- and that special, purest-of-the-pure magenta cocaine favoured by Revacholian royalty.

Electrochemistry - Did someone say *untold quantities of cocaine*? Drop everything immediately and go looking for this hoard!

Logic - How can it be pure if it's magenta?

You - Wipe the snow from your shoulder.

Shivers - Few *petits rats* return from the shafts -- and even fewer find what they're looking for. A small child steps out of a black tunnel, with silver trinkets in her pockets.

Shivers - All around her, white snow on the extinguished coke furnaces, and on the weather-worn shacks, where fathers beat their sons after drinking. The snow melts on your fingers, turning to water.

You - What's in the east?

Shivers - The canal you crossed to get here, and beyond it -- Martinaise proper, the district the police forgot to police. There is laughter, lights, attempts at entrepreneurial activity, cynicism.

Shivers - Someone is scraping snow off their windshield. At the roundabout, in the midst of which a statue of Filippe the III serves as a destination for grade-school field trips and a fine perch for winter birds.

You - And further...

Shivers - A fenced-off yard. There's a truck belonging to a logistics company parked next to the gate. Bright light from a building behind the fence reflects off its hood.

Replaced with "A fenced-off yard. There's a truck belonging to a logistics company parked next to the gate. You've seen it. Bright light from a building behind the fence reflects off its hood." if Variable["jam.dlc_truck_shivers_orb_done"]

Replaced with "A fenced-off yard. There's a truck belonging to a logistics company parked next to the gate. You've heard about it. Bright light from a building behind the fence reflects off its hood." if Variable["village.idiot_cocaine_dlc"]

Conceptualization - Clean white light, coming from the windows of a clean cube-shaped office building hidden amidst ruins. A secret...

You - What's in the north?

Shivers - The abandoned church. One of two remaining stave churches which were collectively called les Sept Soeurs. The other six sisters were destroyed during the Revolution.

You - And further north?

Shivers - A serpentine strip of land weaving its way into the Martinaise inlet. Unfortunates on the run -- from the law, from themselves -- sometimes hide out on nearby islets. Little dots in the ocean that are occasionally submerged when the tide is high and the weather foul.

You - And on the islets?

Shivers - The remains of a camp on a jagged piece of rock -- a tent, old dishes and cutlery. Long since abandoned. A hermit crab scuttles among the debris, looking for a new shell.

Shivers - Further out, the lights burn bright on Résurrection; way beyond Martinaise -- a popular spa destination for ample-bodied Ozonne kids with equally ample pockets.

You - And on the other side of the inlet?

Shivers - Then there's Ozonne... but the snow falls too thick. You cannot see that far.

You - Before that? Before the curtains are drawn...

Shivers - The Bay of Revachol, vastness, great depth -- over 1200 m at its deepest. Water, air brinier than here. It is crisscrossed by huge cargo ships bearing company logos: Wild Pines, ZAMM, Moriyn.

Shivers - And, at the farthest reaches of the Bay of Revachol -- the shadow of Coalition Warship Archer, on perpetual patrol duty, ready to unleash artillery fire if you were to rise up against the market. You shudder.

You - What's in the south?

Shivers - The raised motorway, 8/81, separating Martinaise from Jamrock. Vehicles whoosh past one another day and night, while those who reside in the labyrinthine alleyways beneath the motorway attempt to carry on with their lives in the snow and the slush. And south of the 8/81 is the Pox.

You - The Pox...

Shivers - ...was once a park, a place for reflection and recuperation for the patients of the Old Military Hospital. In the Twenties, it was used as a quarantine centre during a measles outbreak that killed many children. Most everyone has avoided the hospital and surrounding park ever since.

Shivers - The Pox is completely wild now. Evergreen thickets covered in snow and industrial dust. Feral dogs and even wolves roaming in packs. The police try to keep the deepest corners cordoned off.

You - But still...

Shivers - ...heavy drug users do slip through and hole up in the Old Military Hospital, hoping to find something to get high on among the hastily abandoned supplies. Or just to overdose in peace.

You - Further south...

Shivers - A line of motor garages with armoured carapaces, hunched in the cold. A mechanic is hard at work, patching up bullet holes in the side of a Coupris 40. These are the garages of Precinct 41. Snow settles on the roof of the re-purposed silk mill that serves as your station. Shivering RCM personnel hurry in and out of the main entrance.

Mack Torson - "Wonder if Vic's found his hetero-sexual life partner yet." The man in the fishnet wifebeater looks over at Chester McLaine.

Chester McLaine - "Damn, I don't know. Even a real *bröderbund* like that can't survive everything..."

Shivers - Around you, the snow continues to fall. To the west, the ocean swells.

You - No, it was home. I want more.

Shivers - The stairs descend -- to Central Jamrock. A man named Kuklov has a snow-covered stall there, in the market across the bridge. He sells kebab infested with fly larvae to your colleagues who believe eating it will make them immune to food poisoning.

Shivers - Snow falls on the utility district: the library, the florist, the Saramirizian restaurant that offers homemade wine. And also on the brothels and drug dens, and the chop shops of the zemlyaki.

Shivers - All of this built around a lake that formed in a meteorite strike. At the centre of this lake, there is a little ship. There are lights at the bottom of its hull. They are lights directed toward the sea floor, looking for something, like whiskers...

You - For what?

Shivers - A chill comes over you, crawling down your back. The sand under your feet is wet. Somewhere in the south, tarpaulin flap in the wind.

You - What's below me?

Shivers - Layer upon layer of sand poisoned with industrial run-off. The storm drainage. Hidden bunkers. Rats scuttle...

You - Tell me a secret of the sands, wind.

Shivers - Someone's stuffed a big old polar anorak into a concrete pipe under the boardwalk. It would keep you warm. You will probably never happen across it, but who knows.

You - Stomp your feet for warmth, brushing off the snow. [Finish thought.]

Kim Kitsuragi - "We should keep moving. Who knows when this snow will let up?"

#disco elysium #map project #revachol #jamrock #coal city #martinaise #saint-martin

[princesssarisa]

In Cinderella Tales From Around the World, I've now reached the versions from the Middle East, Africa, and South Asia: Iran, Palestine, Nigeria, Angola, Sri Lanka, India, and Kashmir.

*The Iranian variant, The Story of Little Fatima, starts out much like the Italian La Gatta Cenerentola, but then turns into a "mother as animal helper" variant, with a middle section like the Portuguese The Hearth Cat. At the beginning, Little Fatima's female teacher tricks her into murdering her mother (!!!) so she can marry her father, then abuses her. But the mother's spirit comes back as a cow and shows her daughter unconditional love by magically aiding her chores. One day the cotton she's supposed to spin falls down a well, and the cow-mother advises her to go down after it, where she'll meet a div who will urge her to do bad deeds, but to only do good deeds instead. She obeys, and the div gives her a glowing moon on her forehead and star on her chin. The stepmother wants the same for her own daughter, so she sends her into the well, but Little Fatima lies to her stepsister that she should do all the bad deeds the div orders. As a result, the div gives the stepsister donkey ears and a tail. From then on, the story becomes a standard Cinderella, with the cow providing Little Fatima's finery, except instead of a ball, festival, or religious service, the special event is the wedding of a princess, the sister of the prince who falls in love with Little Fatima.

*The Palestinian variant, Thaljiyeh ("Snow-Maiden"), starts out like Snow White, with the heroine named for her skin white as snow, and her mother dying in childbirth. As Thaljiyeh is abused by her stepmother, a kindly jinniyah (female jinn) in a well takes pity on her and fills her bucket with jewelry, but when her two stepsisters draw water from the same well, the jinniyah fills their buckets with mud, stones, and insects. So they take Thaljiyeh's jewels and finally throw her out of the house. Fortunately, she comes to the home of a poor old woman who turns out to be her maternal grandmother and who takes her in; but unfortunately (so it seems), on the way she loses a red leather shoe that was a gift from her dead father. But of course a prince finds the shoe, and we all know what happens.

*The Tender-Hearted Maiden and the Fish from Nigeria is much like the Portuguese Maiden and the Fish – the heroine gets her finery from a fish that was meant to be cooked but which she set free. But in this version, unlike the Portuguese version, there is a wicked stepmother, and the fish really is a fish, not an enchanted prince. The heroine's love interest is a king, and the festival where he falls for her is a celebration of Eid al-Fitr. After her marriage, the stepmother and stepsister sneak into the heroine's bedroom at night and cut off her hands (!), but the fishes magically restore then. When the stepmother and stepsister try to publicly mock the new queen for having no hands, they only make fools of themselves.

*The Angolan variant, Fenda Maria and Her Elder Brother Nga Nzua, is very unusual. The heroine is an orphan who lives with her older brother, but when he marries the Lord Governor's daughter, his wife turns her into a slave. But in a forest she meets an old woman with leprosy and nurses her, and as reward, the old woman gives her boxes full of riches and dresses. The ending is unusual too: the heroine doesn't marry. Instead, when the Lord Governor discovers that the elegant lady who came to church is his son-in-law's sister, he punishes the couple (at the heroine's request) by dissolving their marriage and giving his cruel daughter to another man. From then on, the heroine and her repentant brother live together in prosperity, thanks to her magically-given wealth.

*As for the Indian versions, they vary widely:

**One is basically Finette Cendron without the ogres – a poor man abandons his daughters, they find a deserted wealthy house and take up residence there, and the oppressed youngest finds finery to wear to church in the house – but with a post-marriage ending. The sisters' steal the heroines babies and make her husband think she gave birth to inanimate objects, which drives him to lock her in a dungeon, but years later her children come back as beggars, and milk miraculously flies from their mother's breasts to their mouths, revealing the truth and leading to a happy ending.

**In another, the heroine is a princess who lives happily with her father and younger brother, until a seemingly-kind widow neighbor persuades her to persuade her father to marry her. The king resists a long time, but finally gives in, yet he warns his daughter that if her stepmother mistreats her, he'll do nothing about it. Sure enough, the new stepmother sends the prince away to boarding school and treats the princess like a slave. But the princess is helped both by a cow, who secretly feeds her, and by her dead godmother's spirit, who brings her finery for a dance at another king's palace. After the princess marries and gives birth to a son, her stepsister drowns her in a well and takes her place, but as in the Grimms' Brother and Sister, the princess's spirit comes back every night to nurse her baby, and when her husband finally sees her and catches her by the hands, she comes back to life. The stepsister is brutally executed and the stepmother driven away.

**The Kashmir variant follows the "mother turns into an animal" formula, but with a few differences from the norm. The mother turns into a goat when she thoughtlessly breaks a magical taboo against eating when her husband isn't home, the Cinderella character is just one of several siblings who are all mistreated by their stepmother, and instead of losing a shoe at a special event, she loses a nose ring while washing herself in a river. The ring is swallowed by a fish, which is caught and cut open by the king's cook. The king searches for the ring's owner and marries the girl, which lets her support her siblings and free them from the stepmother.

*@faintingheroine – I think Nihal would like some of these variants. Especially the Indian one where the heroine is neglected by her father and her little brother is sent away to school, since it parallels her own situation, and the Angolan one where the heroine doesn't marry in the end but gets her brother all to herself again.

*It seems strange that this book includes so few Cinderella stories from Africa. There must be more that exist!

Coming up next: tales from East Asia, beginning with what may be the very first complete Cinderella story, Ye Xian.

@ariel-seagull-wings, @adarkrainbow, @themousefromfantasyland

#cinderella #fairy tale #variations #cinderella tales from around the world #heidi ann heiner #iran #palestine #nigeria #angola #sri lanka #india #kashmir #tw: violence #tw: murder

[violant-apologia]

The Airs of Pilgrim's Dawn

a randomiser quality: 38 little snippets from life in my silver city

0-4: A gust of smog from the East.

5-9: A jade figurine is thrown from a window, smashing into fragments onto the cobbles.

10-14: A preacher and a tracklayer stand at a street corner, chatting about the lack of weather.

15-19: A tracklayer walks down the street with a pushchair, laughing at her infant’s babbling.

20-24: The most recent Hour of Dance lasted all night. Limbs are still sore, but there is a sense of solidarity in the city.

25-29: The Burrow-Church is bright and looming.

30-33: A ginger tom slinks into a nearby alley.

34-37: Urchins run through the street, flicking pigments at one another. Their graffiti is left half-complete on a high wall.

38-41: A mechanical failure: this street’s red night lamps haven’t turned off. The buildings are illuminated in a sleepy orange-pink.

42-45: The whistle of a locomotive. A tracklayer reacts with a grumble — her partner with a nostalgic sigh.

46-49: A couple of gendarmes patrol a street, chatting amicably as they go. Pilgrim’s Dawn may have fewer laws than London, but what is sacred must still be protected.

50-52: A particularly forceful drum beat startles a group of pigeons from their roost. They mingle with bats in the cavern air.

53-55: A spirifer (is that the right term, where spirifage is not a crime?) bows to a passerby, trenchcoat clinking as he does so.

56-58: A stall offers ‘REAL HADDOCK PIES’ – though they smell like Evenlode angler.

59-61: The smell of roses and sulphur is thick today.

62-64: Yet another frieze is carefully carried up to the Burrow-Church. Theology, it seems, is an active process.

65-67: A young bohemian reads poetry on a street corner. The imagery is beautiful, but his delivery could use work.

68-70: An effort is made to align phonograph music with the earthen drum beats. ‘Close enough’ is achieved, and a small dance floor forms on the street corner.

71-73: A tracklayer’s hanging garden falls as he tends it. Porcelain, roses and soil scatter over the cobbles.

74-76: A fire breaks out – the accompanying screams are only of tourists.

77: There are no door knockers in Pilgrim’s Dawn.

78-79: A Starved Man lumbers through the streets. Dancers swerve to avoid him, snatches of suspicion visible from within their pirouettes.

80-81: ‘The Bun: A hairstyle for the working man!’ a poster proclaims.

82-83: A green-eyed devil sighs as he watches a couple dance. One tries to spin away from her partner but stumbles – she falls into his arms, laughing.

84-85: A pair of Clay Men tango slowly in a crowd; their quavers are the others’ semibreves.

86-87: A rat lingers by a carving of your face. It scratches its back using your nose.

88-89: A rose-scholar looks over a balcony at the dancers below, jots down notes of their movements.

90: Morning prayers: north, east, south, up, down.

91: The sound of the sea – not the zee, the real thing – seems to emanate from the south.

92: A young deacon tries to explain what a ‘Judgement’ is to a curious Clay Man. It’s clear that she doesn't entirely understand the concept herself.

93: A fox? No, just your imagination.

94: ‘My daughter!’ cries a tracklayer, eyes wild and regretful. ‘No, I—’ And then he snaps back to himself.

95: An Infernal Tourist protests – the Rose Giveth Its Verses to Devils – but the tracklayers dance on, heedless.

96: A black, shuttered palanquin is borne through the streets by two weathered Clay Men. There are whispers – surely not the Empress? … Another royal? – but nobody impedes their progress.

97: A dolorous devil stalks the streets. He tries to keep to the sparse shadows and startles at dancers of the Terpsichore.

98: Trumpets at the gates; a regiment of devils pass through on their way to the Burrow-Church.

99: A bulky figure in a glittering cloak sweeps through the streets. Insults are hurled in its wake.

100: The ever-present drumming has a lazy, contented quality to it today. Is the Drummer… happy?

#i would recommend everyone do this actually #for your city and also any other setting you want to flesh out #it was a very fun mini project! #lots of little references to apologist bits and bobs as well as the nature of the city #pilgrim's dawn #fallen london #the apologist