#nowadays i wonder if there’s even a point in contributing anymore… | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

haliyam · 3 years

Text

No matter what

eren x historia; yeager bro moments (or zeke wishes lol)

Summary: The time has come for Marley to choose its new Warriors, and Eren has a decision to make. (Also, "some things never change.") Warriors AU for erehisu day.

AO3 link if you prefer to read there

Happy erehisu day! I saw this amazing erehisu art by beforelightsout on twitter where Eren and Historia are Warrior candidates + Eren became a shifter. Since it's erehisu day and everyone has come out with such wonderful stuff, I wanted to contribute somehow and write something for that AU. I've been dying of work and a covid scare so I was running on the fumes of my love for this ship and everyone else's stuff and also VIBES while writing this in the last hour, so, it's barely edited, if it even makes sense. Sorry in advance. I hope you enjoy though!

Also, for this AU (or really for the fic to work lol), my headcanon is that the war keeping the previous Warriors dragged on, so Reiner's generation don't get selected until they're this age (Historia and Eren are 17). As for Zeke... idk. Maybe Mr. Ksaver had more time too. Anyway who cares about Zeke here!!! (me I still do)

No matter what

“You know this counts as cheating.”

Eren shoots Zeke a look. They’re standing at the courtyard in HQ, watching the younger candidates wheeze through their training while Magath and his assistant instructors bark orders in the background. Days before selection, and with Zeke already holding the Beast Titan and Colt preparing to inherit, their generation doesn’t need to be put through their paces as often anymore—or maybe Commander Bruning is just letting them off the hook for the week.

They both doubt that.

Up ahead, Falco trips over an unseen pebble, and Zeke sighs.

“You don’t have to do this, you know?” he says, out of misplaced brotherly affection. Eren appreciates it, but that’s not what he needs right now. “You already have the armband.”

“This isn’t about me.”

“I know,” Zeke raises his hands in surrender, but the playful gesture doesn’t take away the scrutiny in his gaze. For all his levity, he doesn’t once glance away. Eren knows he’s seeing their father in him, trying to decide whether that’s a positive or a negative.

“So?”

Zeke scratches the back of his ear. “You already know you’re in the running for the Attack Titan and the Armored Titan. Porco and Reiner are on your heels for the Armor. As for the Attack Titan…”

Zeke tilts his head in a shrug. Eren exhales, and then nods. “Thanks.”

His brother peers at him, a small smile curling at the corners of his mouth. “Thanks what?”

Eren is grateful, reassured, but not that grateful. “What am I, ten? I’m not calling you big bro.”

Zeke lets out a long-suffering sigh this time, the kind he uses to guilt trip the others into helping him with paperwork at his age. “You used to be such a cute kid.” He’s quick enough to reach over and ruffle Eren’s hair, and then withdraw before he can smack his hand away. “Now you’re all grown up.”

Eren rolls his eyes, but claps a hand to his brother’s arm in earnest. “Thanks, Zeke.”

The man gives him a thumbs up, and Eren belatedly catches a sliver of gold pass one of the windows behind the courtyard ahead of the other girls. His feet take him forward before he can bid his brother goodbye.

“Go on,” Zeke says, right as Eren catches himself almost sheepishly. He goes to her without another thought.

There’s no big to-do when it comes to the selection process. Apart from their generation of candidates, there’s only Zeke, standing to the side with the other instructors who assist the captain, while Magath and Commander Bruning themselves stand together, as imposing as the day they first met.

Maybe a little less now that they’ve earned their stripes, training for a decade with the extension of the war in the South, but Eren can feel the pressure of this moment bearing down on him.

The others have been chosen. They stand at the other side of the room, putting on their most dignified expressions and trying to contain their shock at their commander’s question.

“There remain two Titans, Eren Yeager,” said Commander Bruning seconds, maybe a minute ago. Eren’s mind is still reeling. “Which of them, in your estimation, best suits you?”

“Me, sir?” he had asked dumbly in response. Bruning had only nodded.

It isn’t supposed to happen like this. From the group ready to receive their red armbands, he feels Marcel’s eyes burning into his side. Marcel, who was pulled aside by Magath and Bruning earlier today. Eren expected the same treatment—not this. Is this a test?

Porco and Reiner stand to his left, behind him because he’s stepped forward, and he feels hazel daggers ready to strike at his back. He doesn’t care about them right now. It’s the blue to his right that envelops his all. The air is replete with Historia’s expectation, drowning out all the others in the room. He feels weightless in it, a drop in the ocean that is her existence to him.

Eren knows he could be more. If he gives the right answer, she might just see him as more.

But Historia isn’t the ocean to these people. She’s a tool, or she could be, and he cannot let that happen. Eren remembers the ground under his feet and peers into the commander’s eyes.

“If I may, sir, I believe Braun has always had the most endurance among the candidates,” he says clearly, just like he’s rehearsed with Marcel. He tries not to imagine the way Historia’s stomach drops. “Nowadays he takes Leonhart’s hits like they’re almost nothing. And for myself—I’ve come to specialize in close quarters combat. The Attack Titan would suit me best.”

Reiner sighs in relief not far from him. Porco and Historia are utterly silent. He can’t even hear them breathing.

Bruning and Magath seem not to notice. They only exchange glances, and if they think anything of Eren answering more than what was asked of him, they say nothing.

After a few nods, Bruning turns toward them with pride. “It’s as we thought. I see no reason why we should delay for pointless suspense or further deliberation.” With a small motion of the commander’s hand, Reiner steps forward. “Congratulations, Yeager. Braun. You have earned the honor of becoming the new sword and shield of our great motherland Marley.”

The room erupts with excitement as soon as the Marleyans are surely gone from the hallway. Eren is already headed for the door when Porco tries to grab him by the shoulder.

“Eren, what the hell? You know this asshole isn’t better than me!”

Reiner sneers at him from behind before Eren can even shrug him off. “Apparently the brass knew different, Pock. Don’t take it out on Eren—he only affirmed what they were already thinking.”

Porco growls, turning on Reiner instead, which means it’s going to be one of those afternoons. Eren is happy to turn back for the door—he feels bright blue trained on him now, and it’s all he can do not to scamper for the exit.

Clutching the cigarette pack in his uniform pocket, he manages to get as far as two floors down before Historia catches up. She’s been calling out to him since she gave chase.

“Hey!” she yells. He was stupid to head for their usual spot. There’s a corridor in this building that’s gone unused for a while that they found, once, when it was their turn for cleaning duty. It’s been theirs since then, and one of the windows has the best view of the city right outside the internment zone’s walls—and the zone entrance itself. So they don’t forget what they’re supposed to do.

“Eren!”

She’s starting to lose her breath, unable to match his longer strides. His footsteps start to slow, right as they reach that window. He turns around when hers stop too.

Hands still in his pockets, he stares down at her. “What is it?”

Historia glares at him, dignified even as she tries to catch her breath. “What the hell are you doing?”

Eren fishes out the cigarette pack from his pocket and shows her. It’s really Zeke’s, but he figured he’d need it after today. He isn’t wrong.

She scoffs. “Since when do you smoke?”

“I’m going to be a shifter,” he shrugs. “It doesn’t matter much now, right?”

Historia shakes her head, smart enough to ignore the diversion. “Eren, what the hell was that? I thought… I thought we understood each other.” Always to the point. “I thought you and I would become Warriors together. Change things from the inside and convince the others to do the same.”

The truth of her confusion, her frustration and growing anger pulls at him. She’s everything she didn’t used to be, back when she was still playing the perfect little Warrior who unnerved him so much. It’s exactly why he needs to keep a straight face.

“Ah… yeah. Sorry about that,” he murmurs, his tone completely level, fingers pinching at the cigarette pack in his fist. “I just gave it some thought, and… I think Reiner would be better as the Armor, not me. So—that left me as the Attack Titan.”

The pain in her eyes is almost too much for him. If only they were cold, just like she’d been the moment he saw her true self for the first time. That way he could crystallize himself in them and shatter instead of having to face her like this. But she hasn’t been cold for a long while, and the warmth in her gaze even after his betrayal does him in.

“You’re lying,” she realizes the moment his gaze flickers away from hers. Eren curses himself for it. “You once said you could always tell when I was being fake. You think, after everything we’ve been through, that I wouldn’t know it with you either?”

Eren bites his tongue and forces himself to meet those eyes again. He reminds himself why he did it. It’s all that keeps his hands steady as he carelessly flicks the cigarette pack open and reaches for a stick. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Historia swipes her hand at his, knocking the pack from his grasp. It hits the ground with a pathetic smack. “Don’t lie to me, Eren!” she says, pleads even when she’s angry, because they’re friends, aren’t they? If only that were all she is. “You know I deserve more than that. Why are you doing this!? We were going to become Warriors together. We were supposed to have thirteen years together!”

She’s free to vent her frustrations in the hallway like they always have with each other, voice shaky and shakier still as the grief escapes her. By the time she mentions that number, Historia is on the verge of tears, but she blinks them away with the fury that remains. How unlike him, who wants to fold more than anything, feeling like the slightest breeze, the slightest word from her can knock him over. He can only stare at the ground as he swallows down the emotion rising in his throat, and that’s when he realizes it. She’s right, like she always is. He can’t stand lying to her.

The prospect of having to utter his next words terrifies him more than the idea of paradise. But he manages it, because she deserves to know the truth.

“You know why,” he says, trembling only at the last word. Shamefully, face red with self-disgust, he lifts his eyes to hers, fearing the worst.

She catches his meaning. Of course she does—she knows him best. He expects her to leap at him, punch him, anything that will make the guilt of his selfishness ebb even just a little, but she only stands there. Shocked, and then her cheeks flush in only the most beautiful way. He already knows he’ll never forget how the light from the windows illuminates her face like this.

But then her brows furrow, shoulders raising angrily, and she stomps her foot on the ground. “Am I supposed to be grateful for that?” she snaps. “Should I say thank you for making this decision without me? What about what I wanted?”

“No!” Eren stammers, hands up in submission as if that will placate her. “Of course not! I didn’t do this for your gratitude!”

“Then why did you do it?” Her voice is still raised, but her tone is resigned. Historia knows that even if she gets the answer, Marley’s decision is set in stone.

That’s the thought Eren takes comfort in. The tears that dampen his eyes are tears of relief, no matter his shame, no matter his remorse. And here he thought he’d grown out of this when he turned sixteen.

Pressing his lips into his teeth in an attempt to maintain his composure, Eren lets his gaze drop again. “I want you to live,” he admits, so quietly she almost misses it. “I want you to grow up and have a family like you wished you could, if you weren’t pushed into this when we were children. Get married, have children you’re free to love the way…”

He trails off. The last thing he wants to do is mention her mother. He knows she understands when she doesn’t press him to finish.

“I want you to grow old,” he continues. “Live past thirty. Get to fifty, seventy… Then you can be as grumpy as you want to be without anyone saying it doesn’t suit you. I want you to be happy.”

A slight hiccup leaves his throat, one Historia misses only because she does the same. Eren swallows it down, but his nose is already stuffy. When he looks at her again, he’s the most serious he has ever been, and it’s no performance. He reaches for her hands.

“I’m not prepared to sacrifice your life for our cause,” he confesses. Eren imagines he could bear never to look out that window and see the walls torn down, the way they’ve dreamt together for the past few years, if it means she will live to see it herself long after he’s gone. He’s not articulate enough to say it, his ears and his throat so full with everything he wants to tell her in this moment that he’s speechless. How can he be otherwise, when she’s looking at him like that? All he can blurt out is, “I’m sorry.”

A silence brews between them. Eren wonders if it’s time to step away, to leave her to her thoughts. Maybe he can still beg for forgiveness later.

He loosens his grip on her hands, meaning to wipe his eyes, and that’s when she seizes his. “You stupid crybaby,” she murmurs quietly, fondly, “do you really think I’d be happy knowing you sacrificed yourself for me? Why do you think I promised you that we’d complete our mission within the next thirteen years?”

Eren can only look dumbfounded.

“I wanted to spend them with you, you idiot,” she gives him, even as her voice quivers with the same desperate longing he’s felt ache in his chest for as long as he can remember now. “I would have been happier spending thirteen years with you, fighting together, than sitting out the fight and living the rest of my life without you. Isn’t that what we agreed on? To work toward what we promised? Together? What did you think I meant by that?”

Eren opens his mouth, body drained of the cool facade he’s found solace in the last few weeks since he came to terms with his greed.

“Historia,” he breathes. Remembers to. “You—?”

She’s had enough of him, he can tell by the look on her face—but he’s wrong again, because Historia grabs him by the collar and pulls him down to her, meeting his mouth with hers in a bid to help him see the truth. His fingers find her face on instinct, lips parting as they kiss so he can partake of her further.

A moment, a hum from her and something stirring deep inside him, and Historia pulls away as if in punishment. She’s flush again, glaring until those blue eyes soften at his stupid expression.

“Get it yet?” she asks.

His thumbs slide across her cheek, a small grin pulling at his mouth. She really is the ocean, Eren thinks, and dives in again, drinking of those soft lips, drowning in the scent of her hair, the feeling of her hands sliding down his chest. She’s everything.

What feels like both a moment and an eon passes as they stand there, him bent down as he kisses her, her tiptoed to grant it to him, until they eventually part. Only a little, because they can’t bear the distance just yet. Just so their foreheads are pressed together.

“I’m sorry,” Eren murmurs, before he’s lost in her again. “I didn’t know.”

Historia’s lashes flutter as she blinks away her own tears. This doesn’t change the consequences of the decision he’s made on his own, but she knows she can’t give him up, either. When she opens her eyes, she’s more resolute than he’s ever felt in his life. “There has to be a way,” she tells him. “Go to Paradis. Retake the Founding Titan… and come back. Then we’ll do as we promised.”

“Change the curse,” he replies, like they’ve planned, looking out at the stars from his roof in the zone. “Free our people.”

Historia nods. “No matter what.”

“No matter what,” he agrees.

She smiles, and he can’t help that the way her lips purse when she tries to stifle it moves him. Eren draws closer—

“There you are!”

—and nearly stumbles as he and Historia untangle their limbs from one another, practically standing at attention when they hear his brother’s voice and Marcel’s surprised ah.

Unfortunately, not even the most perfect posture can erase the affection still blooming in their cheeks, or the slight swell of their lips resulting from that affection. Or the smiles they just can’t help for one another.

Zeke squints. Also unfortunately, nothing gets past this asshole. “Oh, so it finally happened?”

Marcel glances between the two of them, coming closer. “Seriously?”

Zeke snorts, palm open to the new Jaw. “Pay up, Galliard.”

Marcel scoffs. “Come on. Is it really fair if you had inside information?”

“Are you kidding? My baby brother tells me squat.”

“Oh. Yeah, I mean I guess I understand that…”

Historia lets out a very audible sigh. “Can we help you?”

Marcel meets Eren’s gaze, gratitude and apology in his smile, while Zeke tries on his new Warchief role for size. He clears his throat.

“Now that Porco and Reiner have settled down, Bruning and Magath want to see us again. Discuss our steps going forward, run tests on the new Warriors… The works. Time to go.”

Marcel sighs. “Talk about eager.”

“All right,” Eren says, finally, because he prefers serious Zeke to his annoying brother right now. He feels vulnerable enough, and he doesn’t care to be that way in front of these two. Or anyone else but her, really. “Lead the way.”

Zeke and Marcel turn to leave, starting to argue the terms of their wager as they disappear around the corner.

Historia and Eren look to each other. A shy smile finds its way to his face as he offers her his hand.

“By the way, Eren,” Zeke pokes his head into the corridor again, finger waving at the mess of sticks on the floor, “you owe me a new pack of cigarettes. And clean that up.”

Eren groans. “Shut up!”

“But that was my favorite brand! The things I do for love,” his brother whines, to Marcel’s quiet chuckling, and finally they leave for good.

“Sorry about that,” Eren mutters. Not that Historia hasn’t seen him like this before.

She only laughs as she accepts his hand. When she shakes her head, smiling as she pulls him forward, he feels like they might actually do it. That they might be able to find a way past those thirteen years.

And even if they don’t, he can’t feel regret. As long as they’ve managed to accomplish their mission… No, as long as he can ensure that Historia lives on, he’ll pay any price.

No matter what.

I'll take any opportunity to give Marcel more screentime. Well, I actually debated with myself whether it would be Marcel or Bertholdt in the last scene, but Marcel made more sense so that Zeke could whine about being an older brother to someone who could relate. (And yes, Marcel and Eren made a deal to have Reiner become the Armor. I’M SORRY REINER)

Writing Eren's parts made me realize how much I'm in love with Historia??? Like I've always loved her but I guess I realized I'm IN love with her XD Also my hc is Eren here likes to think he's the strong one protecting them both or he at least likes to project that image to the others, but really he takes his cues from Historia who is much stronger emotionally and mentally imo. Idk, I just think she's the boss in this relationship (though of course they are able to be vulnerable with one another which is the biggest thing for me).

Anyway. Thank you for reading! Happy erehisu day!

P.S. I forgot to mention that 'Commander Bruning' in my hc is the guy who tells Magath that it's a good idea to use child soldiers as their Warriors. I imagine he was in charge of a certain number of Eldian soldiers, including the Warrior program, while Magath was the 'captain' who directly managed the kids until his and Bruning's eventual promotions when they were able to conquer nations with such success.

32 notes · View notes

the-river-person · 3 years

Text

Renaissance

“YOU’RE ACTING VERY ODDLY, SANS.” Noted Papyrus one morning when he bumped into his brother on his way to the stairs. Sans wasn’t really ready for the day, his pajamas rumpled and his eyes sleepy, but that wasn’t out of the ordinary for him. What was strange was the fact that he was carrying a basket full of dirty laundry and was on his way to put them in the wash. If it had been the first and only time, Papyrus might have hugged him with joy and thanked the Angel for miracles. But that had happened over a week ago and Sans had since done this and other chores without prompting several more times. Blinking up at him with an expression that very clearly said that he wasn’t really all awake, Sans tried to grin. “What do you mean? I’m just trying to get some clean clothes, is that so weird?” “YES,” said Papyrus. “ YOU LEFT A SOCK ON THE LIVING ROOM FLOOR FOR OVER A MONTH, PROBABLY LONGER WITH THE RESETS IF WE’RE BEING HONEST.“ That encouraged a snicker from Sans. “It’s still there actually.” “I’M WELL AWARE. BUT DON’T TRY TO CHANGE THE SUBJECT! YOU’VE BEEN ALARMINGLY ACTIVE FOR YOU AND I INTEND TO FIND OUT WHY.” Sans gave him a thumbs up and a wink and Papyrus glared at him before stalking down the stairs, his head tilted up to give an air of disdain towards his brother, who laughed. Breakfast was an interesting affair. The Egg and Cheese Breakfast Muffins that Papyrus had made were pretty enough to look at, though entirely inedible. He’d found the recipe in a book at the dump and had been attempting to recreate the dish. The only real reason this batch hadn’t gone quite right was because they’d gone rock solid at some point during the baking. Still, he’d also made some bacon, so they’d eaten that. There was much less of a restriction on food nowadays. Normally food was collected and sold through the vendors with a stock being held in reserve in case the fields stopped producing or the garbage stopped flowing. But since the world would reset every few weeks the reserves weren’t kept as big and more foods were allowed through. Some monsters, like Papyrus, were taking advantage of the excess to experiment more with various dishes. Sans had to admit that his brother’s cooking skills were improving by leaps and bounds, and only rarely ended with something they couldn’t actually eat.

Everyone’s lives had been severely rattled by the recent events. Sans hadn’t realized how much would have to change in their new circumstances. With no need to spend time and effort farming or collecting food and resources to maintain their lives, many Monsters had turned to entertainment. At first Mettaton’s tv show boomed with success as the only real official source of digital entertainment the Underground had to offer. But it was only two Resets into their new lives that the first alternatives had begun popping up all over. Amateur musicians began uploading videos of songs to the Undernet, either of their own composition or covers of existing songs like the “Angel’s Prayer” that children were fond of singing. Not all of them were spectacular, but they got the enthusiasm, praise, and encouragement of everyone in the Underground anyway. Not a single video went unseen, and several more were created because some Monsters were inspired by what they’d seen and heard. The Spiders who lived in Hotland put on a televised performance of Web Swinging crossed with Ballet where they performed “Coppélia” to the absolute delight of all their viewers. Even the Queen, seemingly returned from death overnight and the cause of much initial confusion and fright in the populace, made a concerted effort to aid Monsters in reforming their lives in some constructive way despite the lack of work. She founded a school where all those who wished to learn were invited, regardless of their age, and various Monsters were invited to come lecture or teach all kinds of subjects to whoever wanted to learn them. Since no school building could be made that would stay past the Resets, they made do with hundreds of tents upon the crystal starlit fields of the Grand Cavern. Both Papyrus and Sans had signed up for some of these. Toriel’s baking classes were fun and there were often treats to be sampled afterward, including her famous Snail Pie. Though Papyrus would groan in feigned agony as Sans and Toriel shot pun after pun back and forth at one another while working, he didn’t really seem to mind all that much and occasionally would contribute a pun of his own, though Sans could never quite tell if it was intentional or not. Old Seam it seemed had decided to participate in the fun as well. Though he’d been a soldier in the wars and now ran a little shop in New Home, he seemed thrilled to totter his way all the way down to the School in order to teach magic tricks. Young Monsters sat wide eyed with astonishment as the old Cat-Monster made lights appear and vanish, caused rubber balls to pop endlessly from his mouth only to turn into wisps of smoke when he dropped them one by one into a glass of water, or make his wheezy laughing voice come from various objects such as Queen Toriel’s teapot or a desk or someone’s stack of books. Everybody loved the tricks and spent a great deal of time trying to learn how to do them, with limited success. Toriel only stepped in once in order to stop Monster Kid from doing his own version of one of Seam’s best tricks, which involved sawing a volunteer in half and having their lower half walk around a stage before somehow putting them back together. Wherever you looked, Monsters were creating and innovating, finding new ways to create a working life. When the world Reset itself, they’d start new projects, continued practicing hobbies, set up tents or made temporary stages for performances or meetings. Games were played, songs written, and some particularly industrious people still found ways to put themselves to work. Through it all, Sans was beginning to feel more and more like he was being cornered. Monsters talked, and many of them wanted justice for the Resets and the loss of any chance to escape from the Underground. Others weren’t sure it mattered anymore as long as the human continued their duty of Resetting, or thought maybe the human should stay hidden in the Ruins even as they Reset the world every few weeks. Whispers mentioned the Judge. Surely the Judge would know what to do? Surely surely the Judge could tell them what was right?

He hated it. With each passing day the idea of having to tell the truth about his position inched closer and closer to reality. Even as the Queen avoided him outside the structured time of their classes, and Alphys grew obsessed with perfecting the Solution so she could undo her terrible mistake, Sans found himself finding ways to stay busy, to keep moving. If he never paused for too long he wouldn’t have to think too hard about his role. Wouldn’t have to wonder how he was going to live up to their expectations. The Royal Judge wasn’t supposed to be a public duty, it was something secret, private. The Judge was an ordinary monster for a reason, someone who could judge even the King or Queen fairly if it came to it. Now... He wasn’t sure he could judge fairly, not after everything. And while the whole Underground waited for his decision. No, he didn’t want it. But there wasn’t going to be much choice. Wishing, not for the first time, that he could just fly away in a rocket ship to mars and never look back, Sans occupied himself by helping Mettaton with a class about Acting Methods. Specifically he was supposed to come in and try to sell a Hot Dog to Mettaton while the other reacted in various ways depending on the character being portrayed. It was silly, and watching the robot prance around and loudly proclaim his own virtues to his audience was kind of fun. It was like everything was still normal. Even though the world had changed and it felt like nothing could be the same, there were still things that wouldn’t change.

#undertale #undertale au #sans undertale #the great papyrus #toriel dreemurr #the royal judge #mettaton #seam deltarune #Reset #hotland #muffet undertale

18 notes · View notes

the-stray-liger · 3 years

Note

As a student in art school about to graduate- do you have any tips to get in the habit of taking breaks and avoiding burnout?

The thing with breaks is that you either take the fucking break or your body will decide when to take it for you and you will not like it. The brain is like any other organ, if you don’t use it enough it weakens and if you overexert it it will fail and leave you incapacitated

Set timers. Set as many timers as you can and follow them religiously. I know a lot of artists think that taking a break means stop making art for work/school and making personal art but that is super fucking wrong. You need REAL breaks during which you DON’T make any fucking art. Lock your computer or your tablet, put your sketchbook away and for a while dedicate yourself to do something you enjoy that isn’t art. Art schools inp articular love pushing the narrative in whcih if you’re not making art and suffering 24/7 you’re not a real artist. Fuck that SHIT in the ass with a fucking cactus

Consuming new media is like charging batteries for your brain. Just like eating, you need to consume things to keep your brain nourished so it can create and work properly. Read a book, watch a movie, read some comics, watch anime, whatever inspires you and makes you feel good. Go outside, play some games, love your pet, talk to another person, ya know the drill

Have some hobbies that aren’t art related. I love building gunpla for example, that is a wonderful way to keep my hands and brain occupied and it’s stimulating and super fun because you’re actually making something and it’s very fullfilling

Again, set up a schedule AND FUCKING FOLLOW IT, take your breaks on time, SLEEP AND EAT PROPERLY. I know half of this goddamn website is adhd (I am too) so following schedules isn’t something that comes naturally, but just like you have learned to have the discipline to draw every day you WILL have to learn the discipline to take care of your fucking brain whether you like it or not.

I know hyperfocus is how a lot of adhd/nd folks out there manage to stay productive but it’s not healthy, at all. I know it because I was a victim of it, I hyperfocused on art and that contributed a lot to my burnout because I stayed working for hours even after I was physically exhausted. You can’t let your neurodivergency take control of your life like that to the point where you have worked so much you’re physically and mentally unable to do it anymore. That’s why it’s important to set timers and force yourself to fucking follow the fucking schedule

Try different things. If you’re a lineart based artist like me, give painting a shot. If you’re a painter try doing something cartoony. If you dry mostly digital try traditional art. You know the drill, try to expand your skillset, learn something new for fun. That keeps your brain active and lets you be creative in a different way. It’s cool to have preferences when it comes to art, but if you stay drawing always the same thing you will not only not progress but you will get tired very fast and burn out.

Not really related but also kinda related: be really careful with social media. Nowadays every website’s objective is to fuck artists over as much as possible by reducing their visibility and hence the amount of notes/views the artists get and for many artists that is literally their livelihood. Ngl it’s good to have your effort seen and recognized and praised but part of my burnout was also due to trying to keep up with punitive algoritms that killed my visibility. I tried to work more, harder, I tried anything to try and get my art to be more popular and when I didn’t get a proportionate response I collapsed. I have a personality disorder in which I am pretty much unable to define myself if I’m not being validated by other ppl and this treatment from social media straight up destroyed me. So again, be careful not to make the amount of notes you get online the only source of validation and approval. Learn to love your work and appreciate your own effort, that will teach you to not push yourself to the point of burnout too

Anyway sorry if I seem aggressive I am very very very stressed right now but I promise I really really want to help as many ppl as I can avoid the shit I have been dealing with for more than a year now

Congratulations on your graduation anon!!! I hope you all the good luck and happiness in the world, I hope this helps somehhow!

#Anonymous

21 notes · View notes

hysterialevi · 3 years

Text

Eitr | Chapter 3

Fanfic summary: In an alternate universe where the Raven Clan is wiped out, Sigurd ends up being rescued by the son of a Saxon ealdorman, and is tasked with being the boy’s new bodyguard. Upon meeting the boy’s father however, Sigurd soon realizes that the ealdorman is responsible for his clan’s destruction, and secretly plans for revenge while hiding behind the guise of a Norse pagan turned Christian.

Point of view: third-person

Pairing: Sigurd Styrbjornson x Male OC

This story is also on AO3 | Previous chapter | Next chapter

TWO DAYS LATER

FORANGAL CASTLE, THE CHAPEL

Placing his hands together, Ealdorman Aegenwulf bowed his head in respect and gently shut his eyes closed, whispering a brief prayer as he stood before the chapel’s great Crucifix.

At the moment, there was no one else in here with him. The chapel was dim and grey due to its enclosed nature, and the only light that managed to seep in was through the circular window that stood aloft the lonely altar.

Strangely enough though, Aegenwulf found a sense of peace in it. He had spent so much time warring with the Danes and battling against his own grief, that the overwhelming silence of the chapel actually provided him with some tranquility.

It was the only place where he could be alone with his thoughts nowadays. Outside of these stone cold walls, everyone always seemed to be watching him; studying him. Waiting to see his next move.

And on top of that, he still had three other children to protect, in spite of losing his eldest. They were young and inexperienced, and less aware of the war’s cruelties than Gareth had been.

It was a responsibility that Aegenwulf wished on no man. The weight of his burdens often felt impossible at times, and the more the tensions began to rise in Wedenscire, the more the ealdorman found himself wondering if any of this was even worth it.

“O, Father,” he said softly, his voice low and desolate, “thou who watches us from the heavens. Forgive me of my sins, and free me of the darkness that troubles my soul. I fear this war has led me astray from the path of righteousness, and I do not wish to deviate from Your grace. Please, deliver unto the dead the paradise they could not find in this world, and protect those who still stand from the evil that would sheathe them. ”

He paused for a moment, trying to keep his composure. “...Guide my son as he finds his way into your kingdom, and embrace him with the peace that was robbed of him in death. Allow him to rest at your side, and eradicate any shadows that should linger in his heart. Teach him not to fear, for I know he is in a far better place now.”

The ealdorman brought his hands closer to his face, muttering one last word. “Soþlice.”

Standing up from the floor, Aegenwulf fell into a profound silence as the lingering echoes of his prayer bounced off the chapel’s walls, filling the air with a solemn chime.

He knew not whether God could actually hear his cries, or if He had any intentions of answering them, but in a time when comfort was so rare to find, Aegenwulf frankly didn’t care.

All he needed was peace. The death of his son had torn him apart with a grief unlike any other he had ever experienced, and as the days rolled by -- minute by minute, hour by hour -- the ealdorman found himself being drained of the tenacity he once held.

It seemed pointless sometimes, to come to this chapel. Very often, Aegenwulf felt as if his prayers fell on deaf ears, and considering how the flames of the war were rising so rapidly, part of him began to wonder if this was all part of God’s plan somehow.

Was there a meaning behind all this? Some sort of higher purpose that was being written in the blood of their fallen soldiers? Did their suffering actually contribute to anything? Or was this all simply a result of man’s nature, and the chaos that humankind often sowed?

He didn’t even know if there was a Heaven at this point. The brutalities between the Saxons and the Danes had become so horrific in the recent years, that Aegenwulf found it more and more difficult to believe that anything pure awaited them beyond their realm.

How could it even be possible for something like that to exist? In a world where death, hatred, and pestilence were so prominent, how was it that something as perfect as Heaven -- or as God Himself -- could’ve been somewhere out there, watching over them?

Aegenwulf didn’t know the answers to these questions, nor where to find them, but for the sake of granting his son the afterlife he deserved, and for preserving his own sanity, the ealdorman decided to not second-guess it. It was the only hope he had anymore, after all. And he did not wish to snuff it out.

“Ealdorman?” Someone suddenly said, drawing the man’s attention away from the altar.

Aegenwulf glanced over his shoulder, not even bothering to turn the rest of his body.

“Hundwerth,” he greeted dourly, recognizing the man’s unscrupulous voice. “Solitude is a luxury in Forangal these days. I would not have it robbed of me.”

The bishop bowed his head apologetically, approaching the ealdorman. “Forgive me for the intrusion, my lord. I know you come here for solace. But I fear there is a much more urgent matter that requires your attention.”

Aegenwulf sighed, returning to his more dutiful temperament. “What is it? And speak plainly, bishop, for I have no desire to run around in semantic circles.”

Hundwerth came to a halt, standing directly in the sliver of light that poured in through the doorway. “Your housecarl, Algar, has returned from his travels. He brings news of the ambush in Ravensthorpe, and awaits you in the throne room.”

“He’s back already?”

“Indeed. He seemed rather confident when he arrived this morning. I assume things went well in Ravensthorpe.”

Aegenwulf stepped away from the altar, addressing the bishop more directly now.

“Assume nothing in war, Hundwerth. I will not rest easy until I know for a fact that those barbarians lie dead in the muck. Are my children aware of this attack?”

Hundwerth shook his head. “No, my lord. They asked a few questions in light of Algar’s absence, but overall, they still seem to be preoccupied with mourning their brother.”

The ealdorman was relieved at the news. “Good. They keep a strong face, but I can see that Gareth’s death has shaken them all. I would not have them burdened by the troubles of this war as well.”

The bishop changed the subject, eager to inform Aegenwulf of the second issue. “There is... one other matter, my lord. And I fear this one will require a much more delicate approach. That is, if you do not wish to alarm all of Forangal and Agenbury at once.”

Aegenwulf didn’t like where this was going. “Oh? And what would that be?”

Hundwerth began pacing around the chapel, lowering his voice as he spoke.

“Your healer, Linette. I noticed she’s been acting rather... odd, recently. Different. Granted, she’s never really been an ordinary woman, but her behavior has shifted over the past two days, and not in a manner that I would consider beneficial.”

“What type of behavior are we talking about, exactly?”

“She’s become distant. Secretive. Perhaps even a little paranoid. I’ve seen her pacing around the castle late at night, and making trips to the infirmary underneath the shadows. She speaks to no one during these mysterious endeavors, and often seems to actively avoid me. It’s almost as if... there’s something she would not have me know.”

The ealdorman shrugged. “So, you wish for me to investigate? Is that it?”

“No, my lord,” Hundwerth corrected. “For I have already taken the liberty of doing that myself. I entered the infirmary this morning whilst Linette was away, and found the most interesting patient lying in one of her beds.”

Aegenwulf grew tired of the bishop’s ramblings. “Get to the point, Hundwerth. What did you see?”

“A Dane, Aegenwulf. Your healer has a Dane in her infirmary, and is tending to his wounds as we speak.”

The ealdorman froze upon hearing that, not entirely sure if he understood Hundwerth correctly.

“A Dane,” he repeated sternly. “My healer is lending her aid to a Dane. Are you certain of this, bishop?”

The other man nodded assuredly. “As certain as I am that the moon will arise in the evening. Though, I should clarify, it was not Linette who brought this pagan into our midst. Based on the information I have gathered thus far, I believe she is helping this Dane at the behest of your daughter, Edlynne.”

Aegenwulf shook his head in frustration. “Oh, Edlynne... that naive girl. She carries the same compassion her mother once did, but I fear her rationality is often overshadowed by it in these situations.”

Hundwerth furrowed his brow in disapproval. “She has also been rather vocal about her interest in the Danes before, I’m afraid. It seems your daughter is drawn to them.”

“That’s because she has not witnessed the same horrors I have. She has not seen the way those savages sacrifice our people to their gods, nor what they do to our women. Edlynne believes the Danes to be misunderstood, and would have me welcome them with open arms. What she does not realize is that I am simply trying to protect her.”

“She is but a child, my lord. She will soon understand the necessity of your iron fist. Just give her time.”

Aegenwulf sighed, crossing his arms. “I suppose you’re right.”

“So, what do you intend to do about this issue concerning Linette? Shall I have the guards remove this pagan from our grounds?”

The ealdorman thought about it for a moment. “No. That won’t be enough. I know Danes. They never stop fighting until their last breath. If we wish to be rid of this man completely, we will need to kill him.”

Aegenwulf began making his way out of the chapel, swiftly heading to the throne room as his cape fluttered behind him.

“I shall speak with Algar and get his opinion on the matter. He has just returned from the very nest of these snakes, and I would like to hear what he has to say before taking any action.”

Hundwerth seemed content with the plan. “A wise approach, my lord. I shall be here in the chapel if you need my assistance. Stay safe in these trying times, for I worry things are only going to get worse.”

~~~~~~~~~~

A FEW MINUTES LATER

THE INFIRMARY

Pain. That was all he could feel.

In the midst of the cold and darkness that currently surrounded him, Sigurd found nothing but its familiar embrace to welcome him as he finally emerged from his slumber, bringing him into an environment he did not expect.

Instead of feeling the warmth of Fólkvangr’s sun-kissed fields, or the bone-biting winds of Helheim’s wintry snows, the only thing Sigurd could detect was the comfort of a soft bed lying beneath his fingertips.

...He wasn’t dead. Not yet, at least.

The gods had granted him a second chance.

He had been saved by that mysterious man on the shore, and given an opportunity to recover.

But... what about Eivor? Or Randvi? Or the rest of his clan? Were they still alive, and healing from their wounds just as he was? Or had the Valkyries already escorted them to Odin’s feast, and laid them to rest?

Part of him didn’t even want to think about it, given the circumstances. He had already struggled so much just to survive, that he did not wish to hear if his brother had become a corpse by now. He imagined he was already going to have a difficult enough time trying to regain his strength, but to be entirely alone in this ordeal... the very idea of it made his heart sink.

Forcing his eyes open to a slit, Sigurd squinted as a burst of sunlight flooded his vision, painting everything in the room around him with a disorienting haze.

The only things he could make out were the soft edges of a nearby window from which the light poured through, and the blurry silhouette of what appeared to be a girl accompanying him.

At the moment, she seemed to be unaware of his newly conscious state and simply tended to her own matters, humming quietly under her breath. Her voice sounded fairly younger than Sigurd would’ve expected, and the size of her shadow led him to assume she was no more than a child. Possibly the daughter of whomever rescued him.

Lifting a hand to block the sunlight, Sigurd suddenly felt a sharp sting gripping him in the chest as his wounds strained to keep up with his movement, causing him to let out a faint grunt.

The girl instantly glanced upwards upon hearing the abrupt noise and gasped in surprise, pleased to see that her friend had finally risen from his sleep.

“Oh my goodness...!” She said softly. “You’re actually awake! Can you... can you hear me?”

Sigurd remained silent in response, still trying to get his bearings.

This girl... she sounded like a Saxon. Though, she clearly wasn’t just any Saxon. Her appearance suggested she may have been some type of noblewoman -- or perhaps, in the service of one -- and the quality of her dress was obviously not something that a commoner would’ve been able to get their hands on.

Her hair was well-groomed and decorated with a few simple braids that stretched down to her back, and a beautiful necklace dangled from around her neck. An heirloom, perhaps?

She spoke with an unusual sense of kindness that Sigurd did not typically receive from her people, and the discretion in her voice only led him to believe that she was in the minority. Was he even welcome in this place?

“C-Can you understand me?” She asked, picking up on Sigurd’s confusion. “I know this must be... strange for you.”

The Norseman blinked a few times, finally able to make some sense of what was going on.

“What...? Where... where am I...? What’s going on?”

The girl’s expression lightened with relief. “So you do speak our tongue. That’s good. You’re in Wedenscire, friend. In the ealdorman’s castle. The infirmary, specifically.”

That took Sigurd by surprise. “...The ealdorman’s castle? Why would an ealdorman save a Norse?”

“Well, he didn’t,” she clarified. “His children did. Me and my brothers brought you back from the nearby town after a fisherman found you washed up on the shore. Normally, we would’ve left you alone, but you would’ve died without a proper healer’s treatment.”

Sigurd took on a more serious demeanor, suddenly growing wary of the girl’s intentions. “So... you are the ealdorman’s daughter, then. And why would you go out of your way to keep me alive? What is it you hope to gain? Information? Secrets?”

The girl shook her head, eager to deny his suspicions. “Oh, no! Nothing like that.”

“Well, you must want something. Or did you simply save me out of the kindness of your own heart?”

She glanced downwards, admittedly a tad embarrassed to confess her motivations.

“...Well, y-yes, actually. I know that may sound incredibly naive of me, but you were dying. And I didn’t have the heart to just... leave you behind. The fact that you’re a Dane--” she quickly corrected herself, “--or a Norse, doesn’t change that. The truth is, I don’t want anything from you. I only wish to see you recover.”

The girl sounded like she was being sincere, but even then, Sigurd’s instincts urged him to keep his guard up regardless.

“...If your words hold truth to them,” he said, “then you have my thanks. I do not remember much from that night, but I know for a fact I would not have survived without your people’s help. Or your own. I owe you.”

The girl relaxed a little bit, hoping to maintain the trust between them.

“Might I ask your name? I’m Edlynne.”

He sat up, his body aching with every movement. “Sigurd.”

“Sigurd...” Edlynne repeated with a smile. “Well, Sigurd, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you. You’ve been unconscious for two days. If I’m being honest, part of me never expected to see you wake up.”

Sigurd paused at that. “...I’ve been here for two days?”

“Indeed. You were on the brink of death when we found you. It’s a miracle you survived. How do you feel?”

The viking glanced down at his bloodstained bandages. “Better, considering how I was before.”

“That’s good. Do you think you can walk? You sustained quite a few injuries from that night.”

Sigurd shifted his body a bit, testing its limits. “I... believe so. Just give me a moment--”

Interrupting their conversation, a boy suddenly came barging into the infirmary with a panicked expression on his face as he brought his gaze to Edlynne, quickly shutting the door behind him.

He also carried the look of a nobleman and wore a simple yet sophisticated tunic, paired with a short cape wrapped around his shoulders. As for the boy himself, he appeared to be around Edlynne’s age and had hair of the same color -- only his was cut so short that the bottom of his head was nearly bare. A relative of hers, perhaps?

“Sister...!” He said urgently, keeping his voice down. “We--”

His eyes landed on Sigurd, causing him to fade into silence.

Edlynne glanced back and forth between the two of them, unsure of what was going on.

“...Joseph?” She asked, her tone quiet with anxiety. “Are you alright? You seem perturbed.”

Joseph gestured to the viking, his eyes wide with surprise. “He’s awake?”

“Yes. He woke up not too long ago, in fact. We’ve only been speaking for a few moments.” She held an introductory hand up to him. “This is Sigurd. Sigurd, this is my twin brother, Joseph.”

The boy strode further into the room, his actions swift with haste.

“You’ll forgive me if I’m not in the mood for pleasantries, but I’m afraid we have a much bigger issue to address at the moment.”

“What is it?”

“It’s father. I don’t know how, but he’s discovered that we have a Dane in the infirmary, and he is not happy.”

The girl quirked a brow. “What? How could he possibly know that? Did someone tell him?”

“I-I don’t know...! It wasn’t me or Edric, that I can assure you.” He froze. “...You don’t think it could’ve been Linette, do you?”

Edlynne rejected the idea. “What...? N-No, of course not! I know she was apprehensive about all this in the beginning, but she wouldn’t endanger the life of one of her patients, Dane or not.”

Joseph sighed in discontent. “I suppose it no longer matters. The main problem right now is that Algar has returned from his travels, and is on his way up here as we speak...!”

Sigurd joined in. “I assume this is bad news for me?”

The boy turned to him. “Considering our father hates your people and would see you all dead, yes, I would say so. There’s also the fact that Algar himself isn’t fond of vikings either.”

A thought crossed Edlynne’s mind. “Well, what about Edric? Do you think he could sway father’s mind?”

Joseph didn’t seem too confident. “Possibly. He’s speaking to father in the throne room at the moment, but you know how much he distrusts Danes. Even if he convinces father not to kill our new friend here, I doubt the outcome will be favorable anyway. If you truly want to help Sigurd, we’ll have to do something ourselves.”

The girl was at a loss. “Like what?”

“...We’ll have to get him out of Forangal.”

Edlynne gestured at the stone walls around them. “And how are we supposed to do that? We’re locked in a castle surrounded by guards. Not to mention that all the gates are shut. How do you expect us to leave with a viking in tow?”

Joseph paused for a moment, trying to devise a plan. There weren’t many escape routes they could access from the infirmary -- especially in broad daylight -- but every castle had its blind spots. There had to be something.

He perked his head up in realization, his expression lighting up with an idea.

“Wait, I might have a way out.”

“Well? What is it?”

The boy gave Sigurd an apologetic look, uncertain of how the man would react to his suggestion.

“The corpse carts.”

Edlynne blinked in confusion. “...You want to use the corpse carts?”

“Why not? They’re filled to the brim nowadays because of the war. I doubt anyone would notice if we snuck another body into the pile--”

“--Oh, for God’s sake, Joseph!” The girl exclaimed in disgust.

“Well, do you have any better ideas?”

Edlynne paced around the room, crossing her arms in thought. “I don’t know, but there must be a better way. One that isn’t so... morbid. Perhaps we could disguise Sigurd? Clothe him in Saxon attire?”

“Disguise him?” Joseph repeated, clearly not on board. “Look at him, Edlynne! Unless you can get him a full suit of armor with a helm and cloak, he’s not getting past anybody.”

The girl grew frustrated. “The same could be said about the corpse carts. Our guards might be lazy sometimes, but they’re not stupid. Those bodies have been in there for days now. Surely, they’ve already rotted and turned grey. You really think they wouldn’t notice a living person hiding amongst them?”

Joseph shrugged in defeat. “Well, Sigurd looked pretty dead when you first brought him here.”

“That isn’t--”

“--My, my.” A fourth voice said, causing the twins to fall completely silent. “Bickering already?”

They both turned towards the door, only to see Algar himself standing in the entryway.

“...Shit.” Joseph muttered, sticking close to his sister. “Hello, Algar.”

The housecarl leaned against the frame, greeting the siblings. “Lord Joseph. Lady Edlynne.”

Algar was a mountain of a man. Even without the thick layers of plated armor to bolden his towering physique, the man himself was intimidating enough.

His face was lined with deep creases around the eyes and nose, and the shape of his brow always seemed to be stuck in a permanent scowl. There were multiple scars littered across his skin -- the most prominent one being a gash that traveled from the top of his head all the way down to his cheekbone -- and one of his ears had been sliced clean off.

Despite his damaged exterior though, Algar still seemed to look after his appearance somewhat. His dark hair was short and parted -- save for the baldness that had been rendered by his scar -- and his beard had been neatly trimmed to fit his jaw.

He was certainly unlike any other Saxon Sigurd had ever seen, and the further he stepped into the room, prowling towards the viking like a lion, the more the Norse began to wonder if there was any hope of him surviving this day.

“My God,” Algar said with a chuckle as he gaze landed on Sigurd. “You really do have a Dane in here. I didn’t believe Hundwerth when he first told us about your new friend, but it seems that the bishop isn’t completely full of shit, after all.”

He glanced at the twins. “Where’d you find him?”

Edlynne knotted her hands together out of nervousness. “I-In Agenbury.”

“Agenbury?” He said, his voice quiet like the hiss of a snake. “Odd place for a viking.” He turned to Sigurd. “Care to explain what you were doing there, Dane?”

Sigurd scoffed. “You speak as if I was there voluntarily. The river carried me there when I was unconscious. I had no intentions of delivering myself into the hands of the enemy.”

Algar smirked. “No, but it seems that God did. For He knows of your crimes, and He knows you must face retribution.”

Joseph stepped in, admittedly uncomfortable about letting the housecarl too close to their new friend. “Why are you here, Algar? What does father want with Sigurd?”

“He wishes to meet the man. Face-to-face.”

Edlynne didn’t know whether to be relieved or worried. “That’s... it? He just wants to meet him?”

Algar nodded. “Indeed. Unlike some of the other ealdormen in England, Aegenwulf actually looks his enemies in the eye before executing them.”

“No!” Joseph protested. “You can’t kill him! He’s done nothing wrong!”

The housecarl gave him a cautionary glare. “Calm yourself, little lord. Whatever your father commands is what I will carry out. If you have your quarrels with him, I’d suggest taking them to the throne room. He’s rather eager to see this Dane removed from our midst... and so am I.”

Algar placed a hand on the hilt of his sword, urging Sigurd to follow him. “Well, come along then, Dane. Ealdorman Aegenwulf awaits.”

Edlynne timidly approached the man, hoping to dissuade him.

“Please, Algar. Leave him be. He’s still injured. Can’t you let him rest for a moment? W-We don’t even know if he can walk yet.”

“Then I’ll drag him by his bloody ankles.”

She glowered at him. “You can’t just--!”

“--It’s alright, Edlynne.” Sigurd reassured, holding a hand up. “I’ll follow him.”

“But...”

“It’s alright.” He reiterated. “It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve dealt with an ealdorman.”

Joseph placed a hand on Edlynne’s shoulder, attempting to calm her down. “Let it go, sister. There’s nothing we can do now.”

The girl let out an uneasy breath, but stood down nonetheless.

As for Sigurd, the man slowly threw his legs over the edge of the bed and braced himself for the upcoming trip, uncertain of how his body was going to handle his weight.

It had been days since he last stood on his own, and judging by how severely his wounds reacted to him simply lifting his arm earlier, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to walk without leaning on something -- or someone.

Pressing his feet against the stone floor, Sigurd grunted in effort as he pushed himself up from the bed, trying to ignore the agony that was now piercing his flesh.

It was clear that he wasn’t quite ready to be roaming around just yet, but based on the urgency of the situation, he assumed he didn’t have much of a choice.

“Well, would you look at that...” Algar taunted with a grin. “The dog’s still got some bark left in him.”

Edlynne stared at Sigurd with a shocked expression, evidently taken aback by his surprising height. The viking wasn’t quite as tall as Algar, but he still towered over the twins like a walking Goliath.

“How do you feel...?” She asked.

Sigurd clutched his arrow wound, attempting to suppress the pain. “Far better than I look, I assure you.”

Algar beckoned the Norse. “Then you’ll be fit enough to see Aegenwulf.” He turned on his heel, taking his leave from the infirmary. “Follow me, Dane, and try not to fall over. We don’t want your blood staining our floors.”

Staying behind for a moment while the housecarl made his way out, Sigurd exchanged looks with the twins and fell into an agitated silence, unable to deny that he shared their fear.

He had no idea if he’d be leaving the throne room alive, or if he’d even get the chance to make it that far, but seeing as how Edlynne and Joseph were fond of him, he hoped they’d be able to convince the others to spare him.

He wasn’t normally in the habit of begging Saxons for his life, but with the state that his body was currently in, Sigurd had no intentions of provoking anyone just yet. He may have been a warrior, but he certainly wasn’t stupid.

“Be careful, Sigurd.” Edlynne warned. “Our father isn’t a bad man, but... he’s controlled by his grief these days.”

That piqued the man’s interest. “Grief? Did something happen?”

Her tone sank with heartache. “...Yes. Our eldest brother, Gareth, was killed about a month ago. By a clan of Danes.”

Joseph added onto her explanation. “The Raven Clan, specifically.”

Sigurd froze upon hearing that, paralyzed on the spot.

...Did he just say the Raven Clan? Surely, that couldn’t have been right. He was well aware that the vikings had a reputation for being cruel to Saxons -- not all of it without reason -- but their clan was different. Eivor was different. He would not have condoned the killing a man who did not deserve it.

Though, of course, that presupposed the notion that Gareth was innocent. If someone in the Raven Clan deemed their brother worthy of a kill, Sigurd was certain that it must have been for a good reason.

There was clearly more to this story, but for the moment, he restrained himself from prying.

“Ah...” Sigurd simply replied, trying to conceal his sudden dread, “I see. You have my condolences.”

Edlynne didn’t seem to notice the shift in his mood. “Thank you. We pray for him everyday, but... there’s no way of knowing if he’s truly at peace. We can only hope.”

Joseph changed the subject, not wishing to dwell in these thoughts. “But enough about that. You have an ealdorman to greet, and we have much to prepare for, in the event that you don’t return.”

Sigurd nodded, following Algar’s tracks into the corridor. “I understand. Thank you both for your help. Even if your efforts end up being in vain, you will still have my appreciation.”

“Good luck, Sigurd.” Edlynne said, bidding him farewell. “May God guide you in the storm ahead. I have a feeling these next few days are going to be difficult for all of us, and I would not wish for more struggles to be thrust upon you.”

#assassin's creed valhalla #ac valhalla #Sigurd Styrbjornson #male oc #female oc #sigurd x male oc #ac valhalla fanfic #eitr

15 notes · View notes

bakug0stw1nk · 3 years

Text

Hello, everyone! This is the LONGEST TEXT EVER! I was inspired by the various other "longest texts ever" on the internet, and I wanted to make my own. So here it is! This is going to be a WORLD RECORD! This is actually my third attempt at doing this. The first time, I didn't save it. The second time, the Neocities editor crashed. Now I'm writing this in Notepad, then copying it into the Neocities editor instead of typing it directly in the Neocities editor to avoid crashing. It sucks that my past two attempts are gone now. Those actually got pretty long. Not the longest, but still pretty long. I hope this one won't get lost somehow. Anyways, let's talk about WAFFLES! I like waffles. Waffles are cool. Waffles is a funny word. There's a Teen Titans Go episode called "Waffles" where the word "Waffles" is said a hundred-something times. It's pretty annoying. There's also a Teen Titans Go episode about Pig Latin. Don't know what Pig Latin is? It's a language where you take all the consonants before the first vowel, move them to the end, and add '-ay' to the end. If the word begins with a vowel, you just add '-way' to the end. For example, "Waffles" becomes "Afflesway". I've been speaking Pig Latin fluently since the fourth grade, so it surprised me when I saw the episode for the first time. I speak Pig Latin with my sister sometimes. It's pretty fun. I like speaking it in public so that everyone around us gets confused. That's never actually happened before, but if it ever does, 'twill be pretty funny. By the way, "'twill" is a word I invented recently, and it's a contraction of "it will". I really hope it gains popularity in the near future, because "'twill" is WAY more fun than saying "it'll". "It'll" is too boring. Nobody likes boring. This is nowhere near being the longest text ever, but eventually it will be! I might still be writing this a decade later, who knows? But right now, it's not very long. But I'll just keep writing until it is the longest! Have you ever heard the song "Dau Dau" by Awesome Scampis? It's an amazing song. Look it up on YouTube! I play that song all the time around my sister! It drives her crazy, and I love it. Another way I like driving my sister crazy is by speaking my own made up language to her. She hates the languages I make! The only language that we both speak besides English is Pig Latin. I think you already knew that. Whatever. I think I'm gonna go for now. Bye! Hi, I'm back now. I'm gonna contribute more to this soon-to-be giant wall of text. I just realised I have a giant stuffed frog on my bed. I forgot his name. I'm pretty sure it was something stupid though. I think it was "FROG" in Morse Code or something. Morse Code is cool. I know a bit of it, but I'm not very good at it. I'm also not very good at French. I barely know anything in French, and my pronunciation probably sucks. But I'm learning it, at least. I'm also learning Esperanto. It's this language that was made up by some guy a long time ago to be the "universal language". A lot of people speak it. I am such a language nerd. Half of this text is probably gonna be about languages. But hey, as long as it's long! Ha, get it? As LONG as it's LONG? I'm so funny, right? No, I'm not. I should probably get some sleep. Goodnight! Hello, I'm back again. I basically have only two interests nowadays: languages and furries. What? Oh, sorry, I thought you knew I was a furry. Haha, oops. Anyway, yeah, I'm a furry, but since I'm a young furry, I can't really do as much as I would like to do in the fandom. When I'm older, I would like to have a fursuit, go to furry conventions, all that stuff. But for now I can only dream of that. Sorry you had to deal with me talking about furries, but I'm honestly very desperate for this to be the longest text ever. Last night I was watching nothing but fursuit unboxings. I think I need help. This one time, me and my mom were going to go to a furry Christmas party, but we didn't end up going because of the fact that there was alcohol on the premises, and that she didn't wanna have to be a mom dragging her son through a crowd of furries. Both of those reasons were understandable. Okay, hopefully I won't have to talk about furries anymore. I don't care if you're a furry reading this right now, I just don't wanna have to torture everyone else. I will no longer say the F word throughout the rest of this entire text. Of course, by the F word, I mean the one that I just used six times, not the one that you're probably thinking of which I have not used throughout this entire text. I just realised that next year will be 2020. That's crazy! It just feels so futuristic! It's also crazy that the 2010s decade is almost over. That decade brought be a lot of memories. In fact, it brought be almost all of my memories. It'll be sad to see it go. I'm gonna work on a series of video lessons for Toki Pona. I'll expain what Toki Pona is after I come back. Bye! 'm back now, and I decided not to do it on Toki Pona, since many other people have done Toki Pona video lessons already. I decided to do it on Viesa, my English code. Now, I shall explain what Toki Pona is. Toki Pona is a minimalist constructed language that has only ~120 words! That means you can learn it very quickly. I reccomend you learn it! It's pretty fun and easy! Anyway, yeah, I might finish my video about Viesa later. But for now, I'm gonna add more to this giant wall of text, because I want it to be the longest! It would be pretty cool to have a world record for the longest text ever. Not sure how famous I'll get from it, but it'll be cool nonetheless. Nonetheless. That's an interesting word. It's a combination of three entire words. That's pretty neat. Also, remember when I said that I said the F word six times throughout this text? I actually messed up there. I actually said it ten times (including the plural form). I'm such a liar! I struggled to spell the word "liar" there. I tried spelling it "lyer", then "lier". Then I remembered that it's "liar". At least I'm better at spelling than my sister. She's younger than me, so I guess it's understandable. "Understandable" is a pretty long word. Hey, I wonder what the most common word I've used so far in this text is. I checked, and appearantly it's "I", with 59 uses! The word "I" makes up 5% of the words this text! I would've thought "the" would be the most common, but "the" is only the second most used word, with 43 uses. "It" is the third most common, followed by "a" and "to". Congrats to those five words! If you're wondering what the least common word is, well, it's actually a tie between a bunch of words that are only used once, and I don't wanna have to list them all here. Remember when I talked about waffles near the beginning of this text? Well, I just put some waffles in the toaster, and I got reminded of the very beginnings of this longest text ever. Okay, that was literally yesterday, but I don't care. You can't see me right now, but I'm typing with my nose! Okay, I was not able to type the exclamation point with just my nose. I had to use my finger. But still, I typed all of that sentence with my nose! I'm not typing with my nose right now, because it takes too long, and I wanna get this text as long as possible quickly. I'm gonna take a break for now! Bye! Hi, I'm back again. My sister is beside me, watching me write in this endless wall of text. My sister has a new thing where she just says the word "poop" nonstop. I don't really like it. She also eats her own boogers. I'm not joking. She's gross like that. Also, remember when I said I put waffles in the toaster? Well, I forgot about those and I only ate them just now. Now my sister is just saying random numbers. Now she's saying that they're not random, they're the numbers being displayed on the microwave. Still, I don't know why she's doing that. Now she's making annoying clicking noises. Now she's saying that she's gonna watch Friends on three different devices. Why!?!?! Hi its me his sister. I'd like to say that all of that is not true. Max wants to make his own video but i wont let him because i need my phone for my alarm.POOP POOP POOP POOP LOL IM FUNNY. kjnbhhisdnhidfhdfhjsdjksdnjhdfhdfghdfghdfbhdfbcbhnidjsduhchyduhyduhdhcduhduhdcdhcdhjdnjdnhjsdjxnj Hey, I'm back. Sorry about my sister. I had to seize control of the LTE from her because she was doing keymash. Keymash is just effortless. She just went back to school. She comes home from school for her lunch break. I think I'm gonna go again. Bye! Hello, I'm back. Let's compare LTE's. This one is only 8593 characters long so far. Kenneth Iman's LTE is 21425 characters long. The Flaming-Chicken LTE (the original) is a whopping 203941 characters long! I think I'll be able to surpass Kenneth Iman's not long from now. But my goal is to surpass the Flaming-Chicken LTE. Actually, I just figured out that there's an LTE longer than the Flaming-Chicken LTE. It's Hermnerps LTE, which is only slightly longer than the Flaming-Chicken LTE, at 230634 characters. My goal is to surpass THAT. Then I'll be the world record holder, I think. But I'll still be writing this even after I achieve the world record, of course. One time, I printed an entire copy of the Bee Movie script for no reason. I heard someone else say they had three copies of the Bee Movie script in their backpack, and I got inspired. But I only made one copy because I didn't want to waste THAT much paper. I still wasted quite a bit of paper, though. Now I wanna see how this LTE compares to the Bee Movie script. Okay, I checked, and the Bee Movie script is 50753 characters long. Not as long as some of the LTEs I mentioned, but still longer than mine and Kenneth Iman's combined. This LTE is getting close to 10000 characters! That means it'll be half the length of Kenneth Iman's LTE. That's pretty exciting. Also, going back to the topic of the Bee Movie Script, I tried to write the entire thing out by hand once. But I never finished it, especially since I'm focusing on this thing now. Maybe I should write this LTE out by hand. Nah, I don't think I will. Yay, we're at 10000 characters! Let's celebrate by talking about MUSIC! Music is cool. That concludes our celebratory discussion about music. Thank you, and have a good rest of your day. Hi, I'm back now, and I got a book! It's a dictionary for a language called Elefen. It's like Esperanto, but better. Now I can learn Elefen even without internet! That's pretty cool. I will now write something in Elefen. See if you can understand it! Here goes: Si tu pote leje esta, tu es merveliosa! Elefen es un lingua multe fresca! Did you understand that? Maybe you can't speak Elefen, but you still understood that because of your knowledge of other languages. Elefen is cool because it's an actual language, not an English code like Pig Latin or Viesa. Oh, I forgot to mention that my sister is back from school. She's blasting Rhett and Link songs right now. Have you seen that picture of Rhett and Link standing with a bunch of *******? Sorry, I almost said the F word there. That would've broken my rule of not saying the F word. I wrote something in Elefen, so I will also write something in Toki Pona. See if you can understand it now! sina sona e toki mi la sina pona mute a! I can speak Toki Pona fluently, by the way. It's also a pretty cool language. My sister is still playing annoying songs. It's hindering my focus right now. But it's fiiiiine. Okay, luckily she's run out of songs to play. At least for now. She's trying to think of another annoying song to play. Now she's playing a song by Green Day. Not NEARLY as bad as the other songs she just played. I should go for now. Goodbye! Hello, I'm back once again. I don't know why I feel obligated to say that every time I come back. But I'll keep doing it anyway. My sister stopped blasting annoying songs, so that's good. She's cooking something in the microwave. I'll go check to see what it is right now. Nevermind, it's already done cooking. Right, I remember! It's mac and cheese! Now she just started singing "I have a tongue, you don't, because I cut it off yesterday". I don't know what goes on in her mind when she does stuff like that. I've been messing around with my Elefen dictionary for a while, looking up whatever random words I can think of. By the way, the whole reason I'm doing this longest text ever is because of pointlesssites.com. That's how I found the Flaming-Chicken LTE, which inspired me to start writing this LTE. So thanks, pointlesssites.com! I check that website every day to see what new pointless websites they add. You know, I could double every letter I type so that this text would be twice as long as it normally would be. But nah, that's kinda cheating. So I won't. Also, SUBSCRIBE TO PEWDIEPIE! There, I did my part. Not that anyone will read this, but still. 'Twould be nice if you subscribed to PewDiePie. That's another word I invented. Actually, I looked it up, and I didn't invent it. Someone came up with it before I did. That's pretty sad. Also, LEARN VIESA TODAY! IT WILL CURE YOUR DEPRESSION! Seriously though, learn Viesa. It won't actually cure your depression, but I'm desperate for speakers. I only have one other person to speak it with. I should go now. Goodbye. Hi, I’m back. I just came up with an idea: SIMPLIFIED ENGLISH! Or, in Simplified Engish: Simifid Enis. It’s where every group of consonant letters is reduced to the first consonant in that group of consonants, and same goes with the vowels. If a word ends up being just a single consonant with no vowel, put ‘a’ at the end. So “I like eating my waffles” becomes “I like etin ma wafes”. Isn’t it the most amazing thing ever? Nah, it’s not quite as amazing as Viesa. Actually, Viesa isn’t a real language, so it’s less amazing then Elefen and Toki Pona, both of which are cool languages. I kinda figured that half of this text would be about languages. Oh well. I just really want this to be the longest text ever, without using copy and paste, keymash, etc. If you remember, my sister did a little bit of keymash in this text a while ago. I would’ve deleted it, but nah, I didn’t feel like it. And besides, it’s not like it took up half this text. I have an estimate for how long it’ll take me to be the world record holder: about one month. I think I can manage one month of writing this. You know what? I’m just gonna break my rule of not saying the word “furry”. There, I said it. Now I’m allowing myself to write “furry” whenever I want. So with that out of the way, let’s talk about how I first became a furry. For some reason, I have the exact date when I became a furry memorized. It’s May 4, 2018. At that time, I discovered that I was a furry by watching some furry YouTube videos. I knew about the existence of furries years before this, but I didn’t know much about it until this time. I said to myself, “You know what? I’m a furry now,” and that’s what started it all. And I’ve been slowly learning more about the fandom ever since. I would like to participate more in the fandom when I’m older, but I’m too young for most of it right now. Guess I’ll just have to wait. But in the meantime, I can write about it in this text. I should sleep now. Goodnight. Hello, I'm back once again. Happy Pi Day! I memorized a bunch of digits of Pi once, not sure how many I still remember... I have literally nothing to write about now. I've been trying to come up with something for the past 10 minutes, and I still have no idea. Literally nothing is happening right now. It's pretty boring. My sister is watching Friends, as usual. Okay, since there's nothing for me to write about, I should go now. Bye! Wow, it has been a while since I last added to this. It is now July 10, 2019. Last time I edited this page was Pi Day, which was March 14. Those 4 months of this thing being untouched end today! Wait... 4 months? That means I was supposed to get this past the world record three months ago. Oh well. I have put many things into this text. A lot of them were cringy, like how I keep mentioning furry-related things. You know, I should stop putting things in here when I know I'm gonna cringe at them later. I'll try not to do that from here on out. I just know I'll fail though. I'd hate to be aware of someone reading this entire thing... like, if I had to sit and watch a family member or something read this entire text, I would cringe so hard. I would not want that to happen. I am currently pasting the entirety of the FlamingChicken LTE onto a page on OurWorldOfText. The frustrating thing about pasting stuff there is that it pastes one letter at a time, so it takes forever to paste long text. And when the tab isn't open, I'm pretty sure it just stops pasting, so you have to keep the tab open if you want it to continue. Why am I even doing this? No idea. I might not even paste the whole thing. I probably won't. Hey, I just had a thought. What if, in the future, students are reading this for a class assignment? What if this LTE becomes part of the school curriculum? If so, hi future student! I hope you're enjoying reading my CRINGE. What is my life coming to? That's enough writing for now. Goodbye. Hey again. Might as well continue writing in here for a bit. Hey, have you ever heard of 3D Movie Maker? It's a program from the 90s (that still works on modern computers) where you can make 3D animated movies. It's pretty cool. I've made a few movies with it myself, and many other people use it to make interesting stuff. In case you want to try it for yourself, I'm sure if you google "3dmm download" or something like that, it will take you somewhere where you can download the program. It's kinda aimed at younger children, but hopefully that doesn't stop you from making absolute masterpieces with this program. I have a keyboard in my room (the musical kind, not the one you type words on), and I don't really know how to play it properly, but I do it anyways. I can play a few songs on the piano (albeit with weird fingering because like I just said, I have no idea what I'm doing), including HOME - Resonance and PilotRedSun - Bodybuilder. You might not know one or both of those songs. If you don't know one of them, why not google it? You will have discovered some new music, and it will all be because of me. Why are you reading this, anyways? How did you even find it? Were you like me, and you were browsing pointlesssites.com, eventually finding the FlamingChicken LTE and going down a rabbit hole of discovering random LTEs? Literally the only reason I'm writing this right now is because that happened. I just discovered a new LTE: the RainbowFluffySheep LTE. I'm gonna see how many characters long it is. 75,957 characters. Pretty long, but not as long as the top two LTEs (FlamingChicken and Hermnerps, both with around 200,000 characters). I wanna write as much as possible into this text today. I'm gonna see how much LTE-writing I can do in one day. Hopefully it's a lot, because I wanna hold a world record! Imagine having a world record. Well, would it really be a world record? Because I don't know of any world record books that have "Longest Text Ever" as a record. Oh well, I just hope this LTE passes exactly 230,634 characters. That's all my goal is. I'm not even a tenth of the way there yet, but give it a month and I'm sure I'll get there. Hey, remember last time I said it would only take a month? That was four months ago. I should just stop promising things all together at this point. Forget I said anything about that. Did you know my sister has an LTE? That's right! It's not very long, though, and you can't read it because it's on her phone. She made it while bored at the library. That library was where I used to have web design classes. Those were fun, but I don't do them anymore. Now all I do it sit at home and write stuff in here. Well, I'm exaggerating. I go to the convenience store with my sister sometimes. But that's pretty much it outside of being bored on a computer. I should be a less boring human being. One day, I should translate this entire LTE into Viesa. That would be a big waste of time, even bigger than writing the LTE itself. But I could still do it. I don't think I ever will. This text is simply too long, and it'll be even longer than that by the time I pass 230,634 characters. By the way, if you think I'm gonna stop writing this once I pass 230,634 characters, you're wrong! Because I'll keep writing this even after I pass that point. It'll feel nice to be way ahead the record. My sister's alarm clock has been going off for half an hour and I haven't turned it off. Why? Because LAZYNESS! Actually, I really should turn it off now. There, I turned it off. First when I tried to turn it off, it started playing the radio. Then I tried again, and it turned off completely. Then I hurt myself on the door while walking out. So that was quite the adventure. I'm gonna go sleep now. Goodnight! Hey, I'm back again. My computer BSOD'd while writing this, so I have to start this section over again. That's why you save your work, kids! Before I had to start over again, I was talking about languages. Yes, I decided to bring that topic back after a while. But I no longer want to talk about it. Why? Because it'll probably bore you to death. That is assuming you're reading this at all. Who knows, maybe absolutely zero people will read this within the span of the universe's existence. But I doubt that. There's gotta be someone who'll find this text and dedicate their time to reading it, even if it takes thousands of years for that to happen. What will happen to this LTE in a thousand years? Will the entire internet dissapear within that time? In that case, will this text dissapear with it? Or will it, along with the rest of what used to be the internet, be preserved somewhere? I'm thinking out loud right now. Well, not really "out loud" because I'm typing this, and you can't technically be loud through text. THE CLOSEST THING IS TYPING IN ALL CAPS. Imagine if I typed this entire text like that. That would be painful. I decided to actually save my work this time, in case of another crash. I already had my two past attempts at an LTE vanish from existance. I mean, most of this LTE is already stored on Neocities, so I probably won't need to worry about anything. I think I might change the LTE page a little. I want the actual text area to be larger. I'm gonna make it a very basic HTML page with just a header and text. Maybe with some CSS coloring. I don't know. Screw it, I'm gonna do it. There, now the text area is larger. It really does show how small this LTE is so far compared to FlamingChicken or Hermnerps. But at least I made the background a nice Alice Blue. That's the name of the CSS color I used. It's pretty light. We're getting pretty close to the 1/10 mark! That's the point where we're one tenth of the way to making this the longest text ever, meaning all I have to do is write the equivalent of everything I've already written so far nine more times! Not gonna make any promises, though. How come every time I try to type "though", it comes out as "thought"? Why do I always type the extra T? It's so annoying that I have to delete the T every time. Okay, only mildly annoying. Not as annoying as I previously described. I apologize for my exaggeration of the annoyance level of me typing "thought" instead of "though". I just realized that most of the games I play are games that I've been playing for at least six years. I started playing Garry's Mod in 2013, Minecraft in whatever year version 1.2.3 came out. Now I have to look that up. March 2, 2012. So I started playing Minecraft approximately during that time. Wow, seven years ago! Coincidentally, I was also seven years old then. I remember the days of 2012-13. That was when I still played Roblox and made terrible YouTube videos. I was called "Infinite Budgets" back then. I also remember the days of 2016. A lot of people thought that was a terrible year, but for me personally, it brings me a lot of nostalgia because I talked a lot with my online friend at the time, and I did livestreams on YouTube and stuff. It was fun. 2016 was also when I got the phone that I still have to this day. Yup, my phone is three years old. My life was completely different when I got this phone: I was 11 years old, my YouTube channel actually had activity, and I wasn’t writing this text. I’m currently writing this in the car. We are on out way to the dollar store. And since I’m writing this on my phone, I’m making a lot more typos than usual. Some of them might make it through, so be prepared for that. Anyways, we appear to be getting close to the dollar store. I have a gift card for that place. I think so anyways, it might be for a different store... Yup, this dollar store is different. Oh well. My sister has an obsession with sponges. I’m sure she’s gonna find the sponges and go crazy over them. Why does she like sponges so much? No idea. She just found a bag of tiny baby dolls, and she wants to put them in ice cubes and call it “Ice Ice Baby”. She is truly a strange human being. My sister also has an obsession with stuffies. She has such an addiction, that she’s banned from them. Now she found the wigs and she’s considering buying one. She’s been looking at them for quite a while now. We’re out of the dollar store, and now we’re going to the computer store. I have no idea why we’re here. I guess we just are. Now we’re going home. Welp, that was a fun adventure. Stay tuned for more fun adventures as you read through this LTE. I should go now. Bye! Hello again. I made a private world on OurWorldOfText for my sister and I, but she doesn't want to join it. She doesn't think it'll be fun. Now I'm just editing it alone. How sad. But oh well. Now I’m here adding more to this text. I once made a Discord server specifically for a language called “Bo”, where the only word is “bo”. I made it almost four months ago, and somehow, it’s still going. People are still spamming nothing but “bo” there. It’s great. I also once made a server where you’re not allowed to use any vowels. It was a very strange server. I deleted it after some time though, so all that insanity is no more. I also used to own a Pig Latin server, but it got inactive so I deleted that too. We had some good memories in that server though. Now there’s a new Pig Latin server, but it’s not owned by me. Dang, my YouTube channel has been dead for so long. I haven’t posted a video in a year. I want to revive it, but I don’t know what to post there. I’ll figure it out. I doubt my channel will ever go back to it’s 2016 legacy, but I’m sure I’ll post something eventually. Random fact of the day: there are thirty-nine question marks so far in this text. Am I about to make it forty? Yes, I just did. Now the fact I initially stated is no longer true. Or is it? Because I said “so far” in the fact, that implies that we’re talking about the moment that fact was said, disregarding any future events. Now I’m pretty sure that fact is still technically true. Welp, I guess I should just accept that I’m editing that world of text alone for the rest of my life. I originally put a bunch of complaining in there, but I deleted it all. The thing is, now that world will never be same without all of that complaining about my sister not being here. But that’s fine. Hey, I just had a cool realization. Basically, there’s this conlang (constructed language, for those not in the know) server where we have a Sentence of the Week activity. In this activity, someone posts a text with a maximum of nine sentences, then people translate it into their own conlangs. My realization is this: if we take nine sentences from this LTE every week, there would be a whole year of sentences for people to translate. There are approximantly 523 sentences in this LTE. Divide that by 9 sentences each week, and you get 58 weeks worth of sentences, which is approximantly the number of weeks in a year. Quick maths. I actually suck at math, but that’s besides the point. I should go now. Goodbye! Hello, I’m back again. I really need to come up with different hello and goodbye messages, because I’ve already said “Hello, I’m back again” once before. Same with the “I should go now. Goodbye!” I said at the end of the previous section. I was going to explain what a “section” is, but I’m terrible at explaining things, so I’m not going to anymore. I guess you’ll just have to figure it out yourself. It’s probably not very hard to figure out, anyways. I guess I can just say that a section starts with me saying hello, and ends with me saying goodbye. That should be enough explaination, now that I think about it. Hey, do you ever feel like you never have any idea what you’re talking about? That’s my entire life. I just summarized it all in one sentence. On an unrelated note, I feel like half this LTE is just me talking about the LTE itself. I mean, press CTRL+F on this webpage, then type “LTE”. Look at all the times I use it in this text! Not counting the ‘lte’ in the word ‘multe’, of course. Dang, now the search results will include that, too. Anyways, half of this text is just me talking about how I’m trying to get this text to be the longest. Well, the longest LTE, anyways. I still have a long way to go. I’m only 12.7% of the way there. I mean, minus the four month gap, my estimation is that I’ve only been writing this for not even two weeks. So it makes sense that this LTE isn’t very long yet. Whenever I look at this webpage, it looks long at first glance, but the longer I look at it, the more I realize how short it actually is. It’s something that I can’t explain. For real this time. I just realized that none of this is helping the fact that half this LTE is about the LTE itself. I should bring up a new topic, but I don’t feel comfortable talking about much else. Why? Because, like I said, I never have any idea what I’m talking about. Most of this LTE is just me talking about LTEs or languages. Sometimes furries, but I don’t wanna go back into that territory at this point. But it doesn’t matter, because I’m still gonna write this LTE for as long as possible, even if it means talking about the same things half the time. Also, LEARN VIESA! Haven’t said that in a while, so I might as well bring it back. The documentation for Viesa is on this very website, so go ahead and read it! You might need to know some linguistic knowledge to understand it, though. In fact, you probably won’t understand most of it unless you know some amount about lingusitics, so you have been warned. If Viesa is too much for you, Pig Latin will probably be better for you. If it's so easy that kids can learn it, you can too! It's a language you can learn in probably five minutes, so why not give it a try? You may also enjoy Ubbi Dubbi, where you place 'ub' before every vowel sound. It's also a very easy language to learn, although not quite as popular. The thing is, none of these are even real languages. They're just codes, and very simple codes at that. You could probably crask Pig Latin or Ubbi Dubbi rather easily. Viesa too, actually. But I still enjoy them occasionally, even if Pig Latin and Ubbi Dubbi are inefficient and easy to crack, and Viesa is easy to crack yet unneccesarily difficult. I do make real languages, but I never put in the effort to learn them to fluency. At least I make them at all. Here’s a fun game: I will open up a random page from a book, and tell you the first word I see. English. That’s the word. Stay tuned for more fun games as you read through this LTE. We’re back, and we’re gonna play the same game as before. Ready? Subject. Now we’re gonna do it again. Reading. And again. Itself. Constituent. Grammar. Colloquial. Black. Outline. Add. About four of those words were language related. You’ll never guess why! (Spoiler alert: it’s a conlanging book). I’m running out of ideas now. I’m just gonna generate a random word and try to talk about it. Forbid. That’s the opposite of “allow”, I’m pretty sure. I don’t really know what else to say. Well, I guess I failed at generating a topic I could talk about. You know what's weird? My favorite word hasn't been used once in this entire text. I'm about to change that forever. Epic. Yup, my favorite word is "epic". I use it on a regular basis. I say "That's epic" all the time. It's a word I can't live without. Hey, I've now written more of this text after the 4 month gap than before it! Just thought I'd share that fact. Also, I'm gonna try and write as much as possible in this LTE today. I've already written more today than the day I first said I was gonna write as much as possible, so that's a good sign. The thing is, I don't know what to write about. I need to write about something, otherwise I won't write at all and I won't accomplish my goal. Wait, what goal should I set? How many characters should I write today? I'm gonna try and get 10,000 characters. I've already written almost 5,000 today, so from here I just have to write the equivellant of everything I've already written today. I'm just gonna try it and see if I make it. Maybe sometime in the future I'll do a bigger goal, like 15,000 or even 20,000 in one day. Actually, I don't know if 20,000 would even be possible for me. It might be, but it sounds like somewhat of a stretch for me to write that much in a single day. We'll see how long 10,000 takes, though. I'm already doing a bad job at this. I haven't typed anything here in several minutes. I need a topic. Um, Vabungula, I guess? Basically, it's a conlang created by Bill Price in 1965. It amazes me how one can work on a single conlang for that long. Most of the conlangs I start making die after 15 minutes. Anyways, I really like it because... um, I don't know, actually. There's not really anything about it that's super interesting (other than how long it's existed), it's just his personal conlang. Maybe it's the amount of development that went into it. It has over 5,000 dictionary entries and several texts written in the language. I'm sure most people reading this don't care about my language related talk, but I gotta make this long. I'm desperate to reach my 10,000 character goal. I've got 4,000 to go. I just found a website that generates random art from a seed. I just put this entire text as the seed, and it generated something quite nice. I would put the picture here, but I want this LTE to be nothing but text, so I won't do that. I've been playing with this for a while now. Many of the seeds produce boring pictures, but some of them are nice. For example, I just used "e" as the seed and it produced a nice looking picture. "a" looks nice too, arguably nicer. I've been using nothing but the word "nice" to describe these pictures. Maybe it's time to get a bigger vocabulary? "b" looks, um, good? I don't have the right vocabulary for this. I also don't feel like doing every single letter, because the pictures take some time to generate. But if you want to do it for yourself, just go to random-art.org and try it out! By the way, this is another website I found through pointlesssites.com. You know, the same website that lead me to the FlamingChicken LTE, which lead me to begin writing this whole thing. But what made me discover pointlesssites.com? Vsauce mentioned it. But what made me discover Vsauce? YouTube Reccomendations, probably. But what made me discover YouTube? As far as I remember, my dad showed it to me when I was 6. So I would like to thank my dad for being the reason I started writing this. He's the one who showed me YouTube, which reccomended me Vsauce, which mentioned pointlesssites.com, which brought me to the FlamingChicken LTE, which inspired me to start my own LTE. If he had never shown me YouTube, I wouldn't be here writing this text, and you wouldn't be reading it. Well, that's probably not true, because I probably would have discovered YouTube by other means, thus leading me to Vsauce, leading me to Vsauce, leading me to pointlesssites.com, leading me to the FlamingChicken LTE, leading me to... okay, I really need to stop now. I've gone too far. But you know what I haven't gone too far with? This LTE. I don't think I even can go too far with writing this text. Unless this text gets so long that it surpasses the 1GB storage limit of Neocities. In which case, I'll need to upgrade to Supporter in order to get a 50GB storage limit. But what if the text gets so long that is surpasses that? I don't think I'll ever make it there. I mean, 50GB is about 50 trillion characters. So I think we're good. I still need to get to 10,000 by the end of today. I've got 1,500 to go. Currently watching a livestream. It's reminding me of when I used to livestream back in 2016. I still kinda miss those days. But at the same time, I was quite awkward and had zero social skills, so I'm not sure if I'd want to go back. At this point, everything I've written today is longer than what can fit on the screen at once. At least on my computer screen. It probably changes with different screen resolutions and devices. But anyways, it's pretty unusual for that much of the LTE to be written in a single day. I don't want to pressure myself into writing this much every day, though. Last time I forced myself to complete a certain amount of something every day, it was overwhelming and I ended up losing motivation, thus letting down all my fans who were anticipating the August 30th, 2016 release date. Okay, the amount of eager fans was probably a number you could count on one hand, but still. By the way, if you're wondering what this "something" was, it was GoAnimated Garbage: The Movie, which was supposed to be an hour long episode of a series I made to make fun of random GoAnimate videos. In case you're not the type of person who knows what GoAnimate is... hoo boy. Basically, it's a drag-and-drop animation website infamous for the "grounded videos" that people made with it, among other types of videos. It's this whole community that I neither can explain nor want to explain. But I had somewhat of an association with that community back in the day. On my YouTube channel, I used to make a genre of GoAnimate video known as the "OS video". Typically an OS video is where some sort of hated character within the GoAnimate community forcefully installs their operating system onto a user's computer, and the user has to deal with this OS until they eventually find a way to "destroy" it. I made five of these videos. In chronological order: Caillou OS, Boots OS, Franklin OS, Little Bill OS, and Crap OS X. Caillou OS is the most viewed video on my main channel, which is unsurprising since Caillou is pretty much THE character associated with the GoAnimate community. When I made that video, it was a big transition for my channel. The channel's name was changed from Infinite Budgets, which had been my name since 2013 when I made crappy Roblox videos, to Allisima. All of my old videos were deleted, with the exception of my "Barney Errors", which was yet another genre of GoAnimate video. Basically, a Barney error is when a user's computer/console/whatever session is interrupted by a "Barney Error", a message informing the user that Barney has been killed, and the device must not be turned off because it's an "important message". There's also a bomb that's placed in Barney's "lair", the timer for which is displayed in the error. The user gets some amount of "chances", and every time the device is turned off, the user looses a chance and the time until the bomb explodes decreases. Eventually, the user turns off the computer enough times that there are no more chances left, the bomb explodes, and some sort of punishment happens. These punishments can range from having to downgrade your operating system, to having your computer destroyed, and in extreme cases, even to death. I once made a whole channel for Barney Errors, where I made about twenty of them before quitting. After that, I eventually quit GoAnimate all together, but I still made Crap OS X, an OS video made with Powerpoint. I also made an interactive OS parody called Windows Poop Editon, again with Powerpoint. Before that, I also made one called "Atch OS" using my old Windows XP netbook. I just checked to see if my old Weebly website still exists, since there's an Atch OS download on there and I wanted to see if it dissapeared from existence or not. Appearantly it does! I'm getting so much nostalgia from this website. It's like a window into 2016, when I had fun making these videos on a regular basis. I'm way past my 10,000 character goal now. I'm kinda glad I set this goal, but again, I'm not gonna force myself to do it everyday. I think I'm gonna stop writing for today. Bye! Hey, I'm back. Yes, that hello wasn't original either, since I already said it once. Specifically, after my sister seized the LTE and started spamming. You remember that, right? I hope you read through this whole thing instead of just picking a random part (which just happened to be this part) and reading only a tiny bit. Nah, I'm just kidding. Read this text however you want to, it doesn't matter if you read this entire text from start to finish or not. I mean, I did put some cringy stuff in here, as I keep mentioning. But it's on the Internet, and since recently, on my homepage, so I know people are gonna read it. Really the only reason I'm making this is because I have a weird obsession for writing giant walls of text. Guess what? I just added translations of this LTE into various conlangs on my website! But they're all very incomplete, and I probably won't finish them ever... I mean, if I'm gonna finish any of them, 'twill probably be the Viesa translation since it's the easiest to do. Hey, 'twill's back! I remember the very beginnings of this LTE, when I first mentioned 'twill. That was 40,000 characters ago. Appearantly I'm measuring time with characters now. Hey, what's the average amount of text I write per day in this LTE? The four month gap probably significantly drops that amount. Let's see! The trouble is finding out when I started writing this LTE, because I don't know the exact date. I'm just gonna estimate that it was March 12, based on the amount of times I said goodnight before I said "Happy Pi Day". It's not a very accurate measurement, though, because sometimes I stop writing for the day without saying goodnight. But anyways, from March 12 to today, July 16, is 127 days. As of that previous sentence, there are 42,549 characters in this LTE. 42,549 characters divided by 127 days equals about 335 characters per day. That's not very much at all. To get an idea of how short that is, the first 335 characters of this LTE consist of about 64 words and 8 sentences. As I predicted, the four months of no activity had a big impact on this number. But what if we ignore the 4 month gap, which was from March 15 to July 9, I've only been working on this LTE for ten days. 42,549 characters divided by 10 days is about 4254 characters. That's much better. It might be that big because of the 12,600 characters I wrote yesterday. I said I wouldn't do it every day, but honestly, I'm feeling like doing a goal again today. I think I might even go a bit higher than yesterday. Let's do 15,000 characters! I have zero life outside of this LTE, anyways, so I think I'll make it. As long as I keep typing about random stuff for the entire day, I'll probably get past 15,000 easily. I think I'm insane. Literally all I do anymore is write this LTE. My mom is almost certainly concered for me, because I was in my room pretty much all of yesterday and my sister told her about how I'm trying to write the longest text ever. But enough about my descent into insanity for now. Let's get this LTE to over 55,000 characters today! This is probably the most meta LTE in existence. Like I've said, I talk about the LTE itself as much, if not more than anything else. By the way, if I were to write as much as I did yesterday every day, I would reach my goal in just 15 days. Now I'm tempted to do that, even though I said I wouldn't set a goal like that every day. I think I might end up doing it subconciously. I kinda wanna convince some other people I know online to start their own LTE. Wouldn't it be fun if we all had our own LTEs? They would probably all die within a day, but at least I wouldn't be the only one writing an LTE in 2019... The most recently updated LTE I've seen is the RainbowFluffySheep LTE, which I believe was last updated in late 2018. That wasn't really that long ago, but still, I don't think it's being updated anymore. Now let's do an LTE Timeline! The original FlamingChickens LTE was probably started sometime in 2004, and Hermnerps was started the same year. The FlamingChickens LTE stopped in 2005, while the Hermnerps LTE actually lived on until 2009, although edits after the end of 2004 were rather sparce. The Kenneth Iman LTE was started in 2013 and was last updated in 2015. The RainbowFluffySheep LTE both started and was last updated in March 2018. And of course, the WhileTrue LTE was started in March 2019 and is still being updated today. Wow, 15 years of LTEs! I think my LTE is the only one still being updated. It would be nice if someone else was writing their own LTE along with me. But 'twill be hard to convince other people to waste their lives writing a useless wall of text. You never know, maybe an LTE that stopped being edited years ago will come back from the dead. That seems kind of unlikely though. Very strange fact incoming. A certain word has not been used since the very beginning of this text. Ready to learn what it is? I shouldn't tell you, actually. Of course, that would ruin it. Unless you want me to ruin a really cool fact. Surely you wouldn't want that to happen. Okay, I'll just tell you, because I'm probably gonna end up using it again someday or another. The word is "various". If you search for "various" in this LTE, you'll only find it at the very beginning as well as here. And I was gonna keep this a secret, but just now I did this thing where if you take the first letter of each sentence, it spells out "VARIOUS". Kinda clever... I guess? Anyways, for those who are insane enough to be reading this entire thing from the start Wow, you have quite the dedication. My LTE isn't even the longest yet, but perhaps in the future, when it is the longest, people will be challenging themselves to read the entire thing. And maybe you're one of them! Perhaps you're reading this long after I've passed my goal, in which case you still have quite a bit to go. So I wish you luck on your Longest Text Ever reading adventure! I've been talking about LTEs all day. For the past 6,000 characters, in fact. I need to find something different to talk about. But first, I just had an idea pertaining LTEs. I should compare this LTE to the longest joke in the world! The longest joke in the world is 56,554 characters long, which is about how long I'm trying to get this LTE by the end of today. So if I reach my goal today, this text will be longer than the longest joke in the world! That's pretty cool. I would also be a quarter of the way to my goal. But let's get back to finding something different to talk about. I can't think of anything. My sister is singing a song about wanting Subway. I will never understand her. What goes through her brain that makes her decide "Yeah, I think it would be a good idea to sing about how I really want Subway"? I don't get how her brain works. She also likes eating paper. I asked her and appearantly she was perfectly okay with me writing that in here. She probably thinks nobody's ever gonna read this. But she's gonna be wrong! Eventually. Now she's asking me to write about how she likes yogurt. "Because I didn't used to", she says. She's eating mango yogurt, and she has water in a Gatorade bottle. Now I'm asking her what else I should put in this text. She says I should write about how there's wild sage where we live. Now she's having hot chocolate. She didn't ask me to write that, but I told her I was going to write it and she said okay. My sister might start her own Longest Text Ever, again. She says it will have only one word repeated throughout the entire text. But I told her that it defeats the purpose of an LTE. In the original FlamingChickens LTE, one of the very first things that is written is "I will just type, and type, and never, ever use copy and paste". Okay, I just made a webpage for her LTE (it's gonna be an actual LTE this time). Stay tuned for "The Best Longest Text Ever", as she calls it. I think it should have just been called "KKs Longest Text Ever" or something, but whatever. She types really slow, but I hope her LTE will be successful nonetheless. Warning: if you do go and read her LTE, she spoils Spiderman: Far From Home at the very beginning, so be careful about that. In fact, she's basically typing the entire plot of the movie. Well, that's one way to increase your LTE's length, I guess. My sister is listening to her terrible songs instead of writing her LTE. Well, she has her LTE page open, but she's not writing anything and is singing instead. Actually, she's writing stuff now, so ignore everything I said previously. She's still writing the entire plot. Her LTE is now 2,000 characters, which isn't very long, but she's only been working on it for an hour. Plus she's a slow typer. She types everything with one hand. It might take a while for her LTE to get to this level. But assuming she keeps writing it and doesn't forget about it after today, it'll get pretty long eventually. I still need to write 7,000 characters today. My sister is watching a cringy video made by our old elementary school. They became a French immersion school after I left. She found one of the videos I was in... oh god, I can't stand to look at that video. It hurts me to think about those days. My sister's LTE webpage has text now! Maybe I should create a page linking to all the LTEs I know about. I think I'll do that. Boom, it is done. I think I'm gonna also put a link to it on this page. There, that's done as well. Guys, I'm not sure if I'm gonna make it to 15,000. I still have 5,000 characters to go (I was completely off earlier, I don't have 7,000 left to go), and there's not much left of the day. In retrospect, it was probably a bad idea to make a goal for the day in the first place. After all, LTE writing is supposed to be fun! Sort of. There's zero need to make unneccesary deadlines. I think it just reduces the fun, as well as the part of my life that isn't just writing huge walls of text. From here on out, I declare character-per-day goals abolished. I will no longer make attempts to write a certain amount in a single day. I should have listened to my past self, who said not to do goals every day. But I didn't, and now I regret it. But anyways, here's a fun fact about this LTE: excluding my upcoming usage, the pronoun "he" is only used twice in this LTE, and they both refer to my dad. On the other hand, the pronoun "she" is used forty times! Almost all of these refer to my sister. Only one refers to my mom. I guess I just really like talking about the weird stuff my sister does. But not as much as being meta and talking about my own LTE. Here's another fun fact: "LTE" is the fourteenth most common word in this text! That's insane. It's more common than words you'd expect to be common, like "you", "I'm", "for", "be", "about", "was", and so on. I really need to talk about other things once in a while. But since I have zero creativity, I always resort to talking about the same topics. From what I've seen, most other LTEs are pretty diverse, but mine isn't at all. Honestly, this is likely the most boring LTE to read. But my absolute lack of creativity means it's probably gonna stay that way for a long time. I'm tired, so I'm gonna go to sleep. Maybe I'll be more creative by tomorrow. Probably not. Anyways, goodnight. Hey, I'm back, and I don't feel any more creative. But I did have a dream last night, so I'm gonna talk about that. Last night, I dreamt that I was in one of our old houses, and I saw that someone made a video roasting Viesa. They talked about how you shouldn't say "dog" in Viesa, because appearantly "deeg" is bad or something? I don't know. Then they said the rule where W becomes V is weird, but I don't remember the reason they said it. I didn't really care about how they roasted my language. Then I watched a Minecraft video for whatever reason, and then the dream ended. How do other LTE writers have so many topics to talk about? All I ever talk about is either LTEs themselves, or the fact that all I ever talk about is LTEs. There's no diversity. I very rarely talk about anything else. And when I do, it's usually about languages and lasts only a few sentences. There, I deleted it. Oh, you don't have any context. Basically I wrote a bunch of depressing stuff, then I decided to delete it all. I knew I was going to regret it later, in the same way I regret writing all that stuff about furries. Not that I think there's anything wrong with being a furry, it's just that it personally makes me uncomfortable looking back on it. I'm not even into that stuff as much anymore. I don't watch furry YouTube, and I don't talk about how much I want a fursuit/go to a convention. That's a part of me that's slowly disappearing. Okay, I'm gonna stop talking about that, because I literally just said how I regret talking about it in this text. You know, I've been feeling kind of down about this LTE lately, because as I just mentioned, all I ever talk about is this LTE itself, there's no diversity, blah blah blah. It's especially been like that ever since the four month gap. In fact, I barely talked about LTEs before that gap. It's like I lost all my creativity after four months. You know what? I'm officially gonna say this: If, for some reason, you are reading this before you decide you want to start reading this entire text, READ EVERYTHING FROM "WOW, IT HAS BEEN A WHILE" TO HERE AT YOUR OWN RISK, BECAUSE YOU WILL LIKELY DIE OF BOREDOM DUE TO THE MONOTONOUS TOPICS! There, now I'm gonna try and forget that half this LTE is the same exact boring topic. I will also try to avoid writing about the same exact boring topic for the rest of this text. Let's celebrate the End of Monotonous Topics (EMT) by talking about how we (my sister and I) had lunch and did various other things with our grandpa! So grandpa asked if we wanted to have lunch and spend an afternoon with him, and we said yes. Then he picked us up, and we went to a nearby town where we had lunch, went to a museum which was a house built in 1909 as well as the town's first hospital, and got ice cream from what is appearently one of the best ice cream places in the country, according to grandpa. So today was a fun day. I'm gonna go now. Bye! Hey, I'm back. That's the fifth time I've said that. I need to come up with more original... nah, whatever. Anyways, I had a dream last night which was basically a whole movie I don't remember most of. All I remember is playing a keyboard at the store for some reason, and that the dream ended with a random car horn. Oh, and there was Minecraft involved in the beginning, which I'm pretty sure is becoming a recurring theme in my dreams. I don't know why that happened, because I rarely play Minecraft anymore. Do any of y'all remember the DVD screensaver meme? That was one of my favorite memes. For those who don't know what I'm talking about, many DVD players had this screensaver where it was a DVD logo bouncing around the screen. The big moment that everyone anticipates is when the logo hits the corner of the screen perfectly, because, well, it's just so SATISFYING! I used to watch a livestream that was literally just this screensaver running endlessly. And when it hit the corner, it was a huge celebration for both me and everyone else watching. I got so excited when the logo hit the corner. My computer's screensaver is even still a DVD screensaver. But nowadays when I see it hit the corner, I don't have as much enthusiasm as I used to. I've just seen it too many times for it to be exciting anymore. Plus, the meme isn't even a thing anymore. I doubt that livestream is even still running. But you never know, so I'm gonna check to see if it's still going. Oh wow, it is! That was the last thing I expected to see in July 2019. But only four people are watching it, which makes sense. The title now says "DVD Logo Screensaver For 1 Year", even though it hasn't quite been going on for a year. But when it hits that point, perhaps that's when it will finally end? It should have ended months ago, if you ask me. Yup, I was right. There's a countdown on the livestream to when it ends, and it says 181 days, 9 hours, 12 minutes, and 3 seconds. Wow, the corner hit and wall hit numbers are much bigger now. The most corner hits I'd seen is around 1400 or so, but now it's at 4776! The wall hits used to be in the hundred-thousands, now it's at over two and a half million! Hello, I have returned. There, I came up with something original to say! Anyways, I just combined every single LTE I know of (including this one) and put it onto one single page on a Wikia wiki called "No Rules Wiki". That wiki exactly as you would expect from the title. I found it a while ago, and I thought it was about time I made a contribution, even if pasting over half a million characters into a single article is breaking some rule... I've been wanting to make Viesa an actual conlang for so long now. I think it's long overdue at this point. Hey, I'm back again. These sections are getting shorter and shorter each day. But oh well. I just discovered how much I like the word "number". I don't know why, but it's just so fun to say! I think I've liked that word ever since I was a toddler learning my numbers! I remember thinking it was a fun word even back then. At that time I had two little electronic toys: one was orange and for numbers, and one was purple and for letters. I'm pretty sure those were the colors. I also vaguely remember having a fan that lit up and displayed custom messages. I haven't seen anything like that since then. All I hear right now is Baby Shark being blasted upstairs. You know that song, right? I don't know who doesn't know it at this point. I can't think of a single person I've seen that doesn't know what that song is. Dang, ever since the EMT I haven't been writing as much in this text. Looks like LTEs were all I could talk about. Oh well. How many times have I said "oh well"? Probably a lot. About eight times, in fact. I'm back again. I went a full day without writing anything into this LTE yesterday! There were a lot of things happening that day, so I didn't feel like writing. I could've written at least a little bit, but I didn't. Time for me to use this LTE as my dream journal yet again! I had a dream where my domain was "exin" (or something like that) instead of "whiletrue", so that was a thing. I also had a dream where there was this game that I thought existed in the real world, but it didn't. Dreams do that sometimes. I don't remember much about the game, but it involved the Simpsons, I guess? Also, I was in a weird store where they had an... iCarly laptop? And a bunch of gift cards. That's all I remember. For now, at least. My sister does not like synthwave. She says "it's repetitive", "the sounds they use don't sound like music", and she doesn't like how it doesn't have lyrics. First of all, she's hypocritical because she always listens to the same songs on repeat. And why does it matter that it doesn't have words? Why does she think every single piece of music in existence has to have words? YOU BETTER WATCH YOUR OPINIONS THERE! (That was a reference to a cringy GoAnimator that no one reading this will get, unless you came to this website from my YouTube channel which you subscribed to during my OS video days). Anyways, synthwave is objectively the best genre of music. I remember hearing HOME - Resonance for the first time in a Discord voice chat, and it was magical. I wish I could listen to that song for the first time again. That was how I got into synthwave. You know what my favorite color combination is? Yellow text on a magenta background. Oh, and don't forget the Comic Sans. That is just pure beauty right there. In fact, it's used in the first frame (well, close enough) of "history of the entire world, i guess", which makes me love that video even more. We're at 60,000 characters, 1,000 sentences, and 12,000 words! Weird how all those counts hit such round numbers in one day, huh? I need to stick to the EMT, so I should stop talking about that. My sister is attempting to build a Lego city. Her goal is to have three buildings, since she doesn't have THAT much Lego. Have you noticed how quickly I've been switching topics in this text? That's because I can't talk about anything for a long time. That is, unless that thing is languages or LTEs. I am currently trying to revive a language my sister and I started making a while back. Sometimes my sister has days when she doesn't hate languages for some reason, then she ends up starting one. But of course, she regained her hate and abandoned it. Now I'm the only one working on the language. By the way, the language is called Lazay, which was the successor to Zula, the first language we made together which is now deleted. We started writing the language on paper, but then I started a Google Doc. I'm sure the papers are still here somewhere. I'm just too lazy to find them. I’m back again. I haven’t been ending these sections with goodbyes recently. But whatever. We’re on our way to IKEA to get a dresser for my room. We’re listening to Queens of the Stone Age right now, and I’m just waiting for “Fortress” to come on. I sing that song in Viesa, but I make up half of the lyrics. It goes: Ванавар јак фиртрас кува, ма башег ђара, ја сок. Try and translate that! The song is playing now. I like this song. We’re back from IKEA now. Actually, we’ve been home for hours now, and we’ve already built the dresser. My computer crashed (but don’t worry, I started writing this in Google Docs on my phone), and now Google Chrome won’t open. So I have to use Microsoft Edge for now. I’m gonna sleep now. Goodnight! Hello, I'm back. My sister is brushing my back with a hairbrush, and I don't know why. I asked her what I should write about (because I have zero creativity), and she said I should write about that. I'm gonna type whatever comes to my head now. Hi, I'm a boring human being who has zero creativity whatsoever and still happens to be writing an LTE. Isn't that insane? How could this be? Nobody knows, and nobody will ever know. It is a strange mystery that has yet to be solved. Hmm, I wonder if I should go and eat pancakes now? I'm so random right now. In fact, there's an entire subreddit for that: r/iamsorandom. You should check it out! I mean, you don't really have to, but it would be nice if you did. I use Reddit a lot, but I only use it for language-related stuff. Well, I make posts in language-related subreddits, but the non-language subs that I look at are ones that I don't post anything to, because I know nothing about literally anything that isn't languages. And heck, I don't even know much about languages! I only make English codes and call them "conlangs". Sort of. I usually don't actually call them conlangs, but I use them for such purposes. I speak Viesa as if it were a real language, but it simply is not. Why did I make Viesa in the first place? Well, you see, it all started out as a joke for April Fools' Day. I called it "the new universal language", despite it literally being a cipher of English. What!? A cipher of English being a universal language? How silly! What a funny joke, right? Maybe? Somewhat? Anyways, I then made a SECOND VERSION! DUN DUN DUN! This second version had CLICKY SOUNDS which, spoiler alert, dissapear in the next version of Viesa. Sad, right? RIP CLICKS 2018-2018 NEVER FORGET! I also added WACKY GRAMMAR STUFF and PRONOUNS! WOAH! How crazy! Then I made the next version: VERSION 3.0! This version added CYRILLIC! (you know, that alphabet the Russians use, as well as the Serbs, whose version of the Cyrillic alphabet I stole for Viesa. Hehehe!) And that's the entire history of Viesa, explained in a Zany way! Do you like how I capitalized "Zany" there? Aren't capital letters so cool? They let you YELL AND SCREAM AT THE TOP OF YOUR LUNGS! They add EXCITEMENT! And most of all, they let you capitalize words like This. lowercase letters are also cool. without them, we'd all be yelling and screaming all the time. That would be pretty tiring, wouldn't it? I see two water bottles. One is empty, while the other still has some water in it. The empty one is blue, and the one with the water is pink. I should also mention that the blue one is mine, while the pink one is my sister's. I got that water bottle because I lost my other one at school. But GUESS WHAT? I FOUND IT IN THE LOST AND FOUND! Wow! Now I had two water bottles. How Wacky and Crazy and Zany and Bizzare and all those adjectives that perfectly describe this epic moment! Wow, writing your mind is a great way to increase your LTEs length! Before I was actually THINKING about what I was writing. But now I barely do, and it's greatly improving my LTE! Except the overuse of capital letters might throw the reader off guard a little because of how sparingly I've used them in the past, but oh well. I could fix it, but I don't feel like it. I want to continue writing, but I need to sleep now. Goodnight! Hi, I'm back again. My computer crashed AGAIN, and I was ignorant enough to not save my work, so that means I have to start this part of the text all over again. That's quite unfortunate. But did I mention that my Google Chrome is working again? That's the good news. It's good news because Google Chrome has all my logins, websites, and stuff like that. Hopefully you know what I mean when I say that. Maybe you do, maybe you don't. I don't even know what I mean right now! I'm probably insane right now. Especially since I'm writing this right now, as I have been for about 18 days minus the four month gap... I think. I hope I did that right. As I've said before, I'm bad at math. My sister just read the entirety of what I've written today for some reason. My sister just sang "I want your computer to crash again because I'm evil". She IS evil if she wants my computer to crash. At least I'll have this section saved. In fact, right now I'm pressing Ctrl+S after every sentence! Including this one. And this one. Also this one. I think you get the point now. My sister keeps typing into this LTE without my consent, and I keep having to delete it all. It's pretty annoying. Hey, flashback to when I said that way at the beginning of this text! You know, the part where I talk about the Teen Titans Go episode called "Waffles" where the word "Waffles" is said a hundred-something times. You know what else is said a hundred something times (in this LTE)? The letter J. So far it's been used 115 times in this LTE. That's your Interesting LTE Fact of the Day! Well, not really "daily", but whatever. Here's a story: Once upon a time, people got tired of starting off their stories with "Once upon a time", so they stopped doing that. But one person decided not to stop using "Once upon a time", and used it at the beginning of this story. And that person is ME! The end. Wasn't that a lovely story? You're probably not thinking that. Again, I'm not creative in any way whatsoever. That's why I don't usually write stories and instead write giant walls of text full of meaningless information, like the one and only WhileTrue's Longest Text Ever that you're reading right now. Hopefully nobody died of boredom from reading between "Wow, it has been a while" and the EMT. That's the most boring part of the LTE! 90% of it is just me talking about LTEs themselves. How uninteresting is that? Very uninteresting. Penguins. What are they? I don't know. What am I even writing right now? I haven't a clue. Isn't it weird that I said "haven't a clue" like that? Normally "haven't" isn't used if it's alone as a verb, as in "I haven't my keys". Who says that? Nobody, that's who. And yet "I haven't a clue" is an actual thing I've heard people say. Anyways, AFRICA! That was random, but let's discuss it anyway. Africa is a well-known song by Toto. It's a good song. I can kinda sorta play it on piano? Maybe? I don't know. Another song I can play on the piano is All Star by Smash Mouth. You know, the Shrek song? Anyways, I once made a video called "All Star but it's played on a Sesame Street piano" and it got almost a million views. It's been stuck at 900,000 for what seems like forever now. I'm gonna check to see if it's at a million now. I doubt it, though. Nope, still at 926,000 views. And I doubt it's gonna get any more, to be honest. It had a good run though. My sister is chugging applesauce. She thinks she's epic because of it. I don't know anymore. I seem to keep saying that after everything I type at this point. It's strange. Hello, I have returned after yet another long absence. When was the last time I added to this? I think it was somewhere in July. So yeah, it’s been three months, as it is now October 17, 2019. The end of the decade is approaching fast. I’m a bit excited, because I’ll have significant memories from more than just one decade! My earliest significant memories started in Kindergarden, which was in 2010. This means that I only really remember one decade. But now that an entirely new decade is coming up, I’ll be able to remember another! Part of me feels like I shouldn’t be excited over this, since the boundaries between years is arbitrary, and a decade is 10 years only because we count in base 10, so if we counted in base 12 or something, a decade would be 12 years long. That was kind of a run-on sentence, but I don’t really feel like making this text perfect, anyway. Have you heard of the Library of Babel? libraryofbabel.info is a website containing every possible combination of the lowercase letters a-z, space, comma, and period. The library is divided into hexagonal chambers. Each hex contains four walls. Each wall contains three shelves. Each shelf contains 32 volumes. Each volume contains 410 pages of 3200 characters each. Everything you could ever say or write is on this website. Even this LTE! See for yourself: https://libraryofbabel.info/bookmark.cgi?lte. Okay, that’s only the first bit of it, but every other bit of this LTE is somewhere in the library! In fact, here’s the next bit: https://libraryofbabel.info/bookmark.cgi?lte:1. It’s split up into about 20 different pages. I don’t feel like putting links to all of them here. It also removes punctuation that the library doesn’t use, like the exclamation point, question mark, colon, and so on. But it’s pretty mind-blowing stuff, if you ask me. If you try and browse the library yourself though, you probably won’t find much more than total gibberish. It’s crazy to think that everything we could ever possibly say or write is massively outweighed by meaningless strings of letters and punctuation.

#Lol i tried also im not a furry ignore the furry part #nor am i young

8 notes · View notes

thelabrysflag · 4 years

Text

Most of the questions I get are about the black triangle.

Here is a compilation of my opinions on the matter.

People are right to be uncomfortable using the labrys flag that has the triangle, so there are edits that include other things or just have the labrys symbol by itself. Some Jewish lesbians (myself included) believe that the triangle is okay to exist on the flag as a reminder of the oppression we have faced in the past as well as an acknowledgement of contributions Jewish lesbians have made in the lesbian community (another Jewish lesbian made an edit with the Magen David instead of the triangle for this reason). [post]

Let the black triangle be a reminder of that history and how antisemitism is still a huge problem today. [For gentiles in the LGBT community,] it’s important to recognize antisemitism in all its forms and commit yourself to calling it out because it is everywhere, even in LGBT safe spaces. [post]

See my black triangle tag for more (for some reason this link isn’t working on mobile so just go to the black triangle tag I’ve used on this post and it’ll lead you there).

I know that there’s three opinions for every two Jews and just because I think a certain way doesn’t make me the authority on the matter. But for what it’s worth, I think that militantly opposing the black triangle on the flag for no other reason than “we don’t want Gentiles using it ever ” is going to backfire.

I never hear about the Holocaust anymore, not unless it’s being used as a gotcha point or “this is just like the Holocaust” with no actual in depth discussion about WHY whatever they’re comparing is really like that atrocity. But I DO see antisemitism.

Everywhere.

Perhaps I have just been paying more attention lately, but antisemitism is rampant in leftist spaces. We are all white greedy capitalist rich colonizers/oppressors. We control the media, we control BLM and antifa (yes I have heard this from both the left and the right), we are whining about antisemitism which is not real, we’re not really oppressed. Antisemitism, if it is real, is a trivial matter that should always be put last, every other instance of oppression is more important than antisemitism and if you bring up antisemitism when another form of oppression is being talked about, then you’re contributing to that oppression.

I see this all the time nowadays.

And when people, especially gentiles, go around saying “don’t use the Labrys flag because it has the black triangle which is antisemitic!!!” I just have to wonder, do you really care about antisemitism? Or are you just not wanting to be called problematic for anything?

I would much prefer to see a gentile wear the Labrys flag with the black triangle and read Anti-Judaism by Robert Blumenfeld, or The Crime and the Silence by Anna Bikont, or any of the many books that go into antisemitism and its ancient history and why it has survived until today. Here is a goodreads list of some more, I have only skimmed through the list but it looks legit.

Taking the triangle off of the flag is a choice that I will respect, because symbols that originate from the Holocaust can and do cause pain. However, from my perspective, it lets gentiles put antisemitism out of their minds -- which often they will do anyway, but in the very least, if using a flag that has the black triangle on it encourages them to be mindful about antisemitism, then let them do it. The focus should be “if you’re going to use this flag then pay respect to Jewish people and learn about antisemitism” instead of “never look in the direction of this flag ever again.”

And the same said here about antisemitism can be said about antiromanism. The Holocaust affected Rromani people just as much and people need to learn about that too and not ignore it. If anyone has any reading recommendations, please let me know and I’ll add them.

At least it isn’t like the demisexual flag, since demisexuality is not actually an oppressed minority by itself (and I say this as an ace myself). Lesbians are oppressed and have been oppressed for a long time, and were targeted by the Nazis and are still targeted by neo-Nazis as well. If you oppose the use of the triangle on the Labrys flag but then turn the other way when you see the demisexual flag, then... really, do you care about antisemitism or do you care about not being called problematic?

Again, two Jews three opinions. I have heard other Jewish people with points different than mine and I respect them. The choice of whether to take the triangle off is a personal one for Jewish and Rromani people. If you’re a non-Rromani gentile and you want to argue with one of us about why we should use the triangle if we don’t want to, kindly go fuck yourself.

The prerequisite to using the Labrys flag that has the black triangle is to educate yourself about antisemitism and antiromanism and how it presents itself today in both the left and the right of the political spectrum. That’s all I’m saying.

#labrys flag #lesbian flag #antisemitism #black triangle

33 notes · View notes

annoyed-galaxy · 4 years

Text

Fable 2 Aftermath

Aka I couldn’t find a title for this so this is just what I’m gonna call it.

This takes place one year after Sparrow has defeated Lucien. It’s a small scene and is what will start my Sparrow and Reaver’s little romance that will go on to Fable 3. I will add as a warning: there is an attempted suicide in this. Just in case that would trigger someone, I’m adding that here.

I hope you will enjoy this little story and let me know what you think. I’m pretty sure there’s going to be a second part to this or just more in general as I figure out what the hell my characters are going to be.

Enjoy!

She had done it. She accomplished her mission. She exacted her revenge against Lucien.

And yet...she still felt empty inside.

It had been a year since she killed Lucien and made her wish in the Spire. Not much happened in that year. She got a statue erected in her honor and she bought a lot of houses and stores and made the rent and prices affordable for the less fortunate people. People saw her as a selfless saint. She had the chance to bring back her sister and even her beloved dog, but instead chose to bring back thousands upon thousands of random strangers. The people of Albion praised her. When she walked the streets, people would cheer and weep at her mere presence.

But she still felt empty. She was alone. All three of the Heroes had left and Theresa had basically kicked her out of the seer’s life completely. She had begun regretting her choice. But anytime those thoughts came up, she would get herself so drunk she could barely stand or find some random person to warm her bed and take her mind off things. She was almost reverting back to her young adult self, the selfish woman who came from Bower Lake with only one goal in mind.

Now she was just a hollow shell of her former self. She had no regard for her life anymore. After all, she had sacrificed her youth and beauty for one bastard.

For some reason that thought had kept coming to her over and over. Why did she do that? Why did she sacrifice her own youth and beauty instead of forcing it onto that random girl in the Shadow Court? Why did she choose to bring back strangers rather than her beloved sister and puppy?

Thinking about these things didn’t help.

Sparrow looked at the bottle in her hand. It was already empty. She sighed and threw it to her left, then proceeded to take another bottle from the crate on her right. There were four bottles left, with three missing. She had bought the crate from one of the vendors in Bloodstone and had taken the thing down to the beach where she sat in the sand and stared out into the ocean, drinking her life away. She could see the Spire from where she sat. It didn’t help with the memories floating in her head. Anytime a memory tried to come up, she would take a swig from the bottle and wash it away.

Was this healthy?

Of course not.

Did Sparrow care?

Hell no.

It had been a year and Sparrow was trying to find some purpose in her life. She did what she could to help out around communities such as Old Town and Oakfield, but they never satisfied her. Nowadays, nothing really did. She missed her dog. She missed playing fetch with him and cuddling with him. She almost missed him more than she missed her sister. It was a pain to admit that, but Sparrow was young when she lost her sister. The only reason her vengeance grew so much was because of Theresa’s careful taming.

And when the end came, Theresa tossed Sparrow to the side, not a care in the world. Not a single goodbye or anything. At least the Heroes had said goodbye, which was a surprise because Sparrow had not expected Reaver to say goodbye at all. But if that smarmy bastard had some decency to say a farewell, how come Theresa, Sparrow’s mentor, didn’t?

The thought made Sparrow clench her teeth and want to throw something at the Spire. The closest thing to her was a seashell. Poor thing soared through the sky as Sparrow threw it as hard as she could. It traveled pretty far before Sparrow saw its splash. Sparrow clicked her tongue and took another drink.

The sun was already going down, but Sparrow had no care. The moon could have made its lap across the sky and the sun come back and she wouldn’t have noticed. She barely noticed time anymore. It was irrelevant to her. She was going to die young, she knew it. What purpose in life did she have now?

A dangerous glance dragged her attention to the new pistol she carried on her side. She had put her crossbow up in a place of honor and picked up a pistol. The age of crossbows was coming to an end and it was becoming more troublesome to carry around. The pistol was light and did more damage than her beloved crossbow. But it was also easier to use for darker needs.

Sparrow took the pistol out of its holster and examined it. It was a beautiful thing. Black and gold like her crossbow; she would have had it no other way. It was one of those fancy clockwork pistols that only the Spire guards had used. Five bullets in one little clip. However, her pistol only had one bullet right now.

Sparrow didn’t know when it struck her, but she no longer felt a reason to live. She did meaningless tasks everyday. Saving a bunch of slaves, killing hobbes and balverines, chopping wood, making swords; none of it meant anything to her anymore. She tried contributing to communities by teaching young boys and girls how to fight and protect themselves for when there were no more Heroes in Albion. Some people giggled at the notion, thinking it was unnecessary. But it entertained the children so they let the great Hero do it.

Yet even that never helped close the gaping hole in Sparrow’s chest. In fact, it made her even more depressed; seeing all the children laughing and happy. She even saw siblings playing like she and Rose used to. Only these children never had to suffer through the things Sparrow and Rose did. Their families didn’t know poverty or struggle, and that was thanks to Sparrow. They never knew heartbreak or hardship. They all thought of Sparrow as the greatest Hero of all time, but she never saw that herself. After the ten years she spent in that awful Spire, wasting away and hurting other people, she would have given everything just to make others not suffer.

She didn’t realize how much she would make herself suffer through.

Another swig from the bottle brought Sparrow to the present, to the pistol resting in her hand. Maybe Albion would mourn her death, but then again, they were okay. People were happy. People did not suffer. And they wouldn’t for a long time. No matter Theresa’s intentions, surely they couldn’t be evil right? Would she really kill everyone in Albion with the Spire?

Sparrow honestly didn’t care now. She wouldn’t live to see what would happen.

The Hero took a deep breath and brought the pistol to the side of her head. There was no point in living now. She could join her sister and dog in the afterlife. She would see her lost parents again. Maybe she could be happy. It had been so long since she smiled. So long since she felt something good.

Tears started to roll down her cheeks. She just wanted to be happy. She could make other people happy, but why couldn’t she make herself happy? She wanted to give herself to other people just so they could be happy but why did she torment herself? Why did she do these things to herself? She had no value left in her. She had already given her flesh away multiple times. Gave her blade even more times. She would jump in front of incoming fire just to save some merchants without a single regard to her life. She had no longer valued her life.

She honestly couldn’t remember when that started. If that was before or after the Spire. Maybe it was right after she left Bower Lake. Sure she wouldn’t have gone out of her way to save someone, but she didn’t love her body enough to cherish it. Gave it away freely to distract herself from bad memories. She thought after her time in the Spire, she would have changed. But...she didn’t. Not really. The only thing that changed was that she cared more about people. She had never loved herself. She had never placed any value into her life. She always thought that Rose should have been the one to survive. To become a great Hero. Not Sparrow.

She had no meaning anymore. She was always Theresa’s pawn. She was a means to an end. Killing Lucien did nothing to quell that vengeance. Hell, after a while, she wondered if that was ever what she truly wanted. At first, maybe, but in the end, she just needed to kill a madman. Everything she had ever done led up to this moment.

Sitting on a beach, drunk on cheap alcohol, with a gun to her head. Sparrow looked out into the horizon, watching as the sun cast a fiery blaze across the ocean and behind the Spire. It was a beautiful image. And it would be the last one she ever saw.

“Are you really going to do that?”

A voice pulled Sparrow out of her thoughts, her eyes away from the horizon.

A lone figure was swaggering into her view. She couldn’t quite tell who it was, the setting sun was already casting shadows on the beach. “Who are you?” she called out, her voice raspy and hoarse from lack of use and excessive amount of alcohol consumption.

Her hand lowered the gun from her head and rested in her lap. Whoever it was, they stopped her from ending it all.

Sparrow finally could make out the swaggering walk, the lush hair that stuck out well too-groomed for one’s own sake, that sassy hand on hip, the cape flowing behind. Now she wished she had pulled the trigger as Reaver fully came into view. He stood a couple feet away and had that little shit-eating smirk on his face that made Sparrow want to grab his hair and slam him into the ground.

She snorted and took a swig from her bottle, no longer interested in the Hero of Skill’s sudden arrival.

“Well that’s just rude!” Reaver feigned offense, putting a hand to his forehead. “Is this how you greet an old friend?”

“We’re not friends,” Sparrow let out, glaring at the horizon. She refused to meet the pirate’s eyes. “You would sooner stab me in the back than call me a friend.”

Reaver clicked his tongue. “Well that’s a rude assumption.”

Sparrow glared at him, really considering summoning a blade and piercing it through his pretty little immortal throat. Reaver chuckled at the look Sparrow gave him, before moving closer and sitting by her side. “Mind if I take one?” Reaver asked already reaching for one of the bottles in her crate.

“Do you like that hand?” she asked without looking at him. A spectral blade formed above his hand and hovered dangerously close.

Reaver couldn’t help but laugh as he pulled his hand away. “My, aren’t you a grump. I mean I imagined something was wrong when you were about to put a bullet through your head. Tell me, were you really going to go through with that?”

Sparrow didn’t know why this little bastard cared if she did shoot herself or not. If he hadn’t said anything, she’d probably be a corpse right now. “Why the hell do you care?” she growled. She never looked in his direction, but rather kept her attention focused on the horizon.

“Well I’m just curious. Aren’t you a celebrated Hero? Albion absolutely adores you! You saved thousands of lives. I imagine you’d be showered with all sorts of gifts. Maybe be swooned to some alluring man or woman and have several children by now.” Reaver cocked his head to the side. “So how come such a loved person would dare put a gun to her head?”

Sparrow scoffed. “Like you would fucking care. What does it matter to you? Would you weep if you had found a cold body here rather than a drunken husk?”

“Someone’s frisky.”

Sparrow flung her fist out, ready to make contact with the smarmy bastard only for the little shit to casually dodge. Sparrow pulled back and bore daggers into whatever pathetic soul Reaver harbored. His smirk grew wider as he looked this woman up and down. Her hair was a mess, her eyes red from tears and bloodshot with an overwhelming amount of alcohol. Her Will lines even seemed dimmer than they were when he first saw her.

“You really have let yourself go. It’s only been a year,” Reaver commented.

Sparrow wanted to pummel that pretty face into a pulp, but knew he would just dodge her drunken attacks. She turned back forward and chugged the rest of her bottle. She threw it to the side, but didn’t reach for another. “It’s only been a year and you’re already back from Samarkand,” Sparrow replied after some silence. “What happened there? Crawled into the wrong bed and get in trouble?”

Reaver smiled at her teasing tone. He really did like a person with a quippy tongue. “Oh no, I didn’t crawl into any wrong beds. Actually they were all the right ones. The people over there are a little more exotic than our humble Albion citizens.”

Sparrow snorted. “Wow. Did you spend your entire time there sleazing about?”

“Actually no. My visit was cut short by a certain Will user.” Reaver waved his hand around. “He was a little upset that I tried to kill him and nearly turned me into a crisp.”

Sparrow glanced at Reaver. “You tried to kill Garth, failed and barely escaped?”

Reaver nodded.

“Shame. Would’ve been nice to see a burnt ass pirate.”

“Oh come now, where would the fun be in that!” Reaver threw his arms in the air. “I’m too handsome to die.”

“Haven’t you lived for a couple hundred centuries? I’m pretty sure your time is coming to an end.”

“Well, maybe, but I somehow always manage to find a way unscathed.”

Sparrow rolled her eyes. “How unfortunate for society.” She finally reached for one of the bottles and popped the cork. There was no hesitation as she ingested the foul liquid. She had already drank three of these bottles. Her taste buds had gone numb to the horrid taste.

Reaver and Sparrow sat in silence for a while. Long enough for the moon to rise behind them casting their shadows on the sand. Sparrow’s mind drifted away, back into deep thoughts. The pistol was still in her lap and she wondered if she would actually go through with her original impulse. Or did Reaver ironically save her? Was there a reason for this? No, she shook her head. Just random chance. Then again, Reaver could have watched as she pulled the trigger. Unless maybe he wanted a go at her himself.

“Tell me something, shithead, why’d you stop me?” Sparrow finally asked, breaking the silence.

“Hm?” Reaver responded, tilting his head.

“You could have watched me blow my brains out, but you didn’t. You said something and stopped me.” She turned to him. “Why?”

Reaver shrugged. “I didn’t think you were actually going to do it, whether I had said something or not. I was simply surprised someone like you would even think about that.”

“What do you mean someone like me?”

“Tch, you have everything you could have ever wanted in the world! People shower you with love and praise and would throw themselves before you begging to take your hand in marriage. And you have the gall to go and off yourself?!” Reaver let out a condescending laugh. “Truly pathetic.”

Sparrow snarled and threw her bottle to the side, the alcohol spilling and staining the sand. Reaver didn’t have enough time to react before Sparrow was on top of him, her hands around his throat. “Of course a bastard like you would say that!” She squeezed harder and Reaver grabbed her arms, trying to push her off of him. “Of course you would think my life is so grand! You’ve probably never even given a shit about anyone but yourself! Actually I know that’s true because you tricked me into giving away my life, just so you can stay young!” Sparrow snarled harder and could feel Reaver’s throat slowly collapsing in her hands. “Well I’m going to take your fucking immorality you little shit!”

Sparrow squeezed harder and harder, but did not expect the breath to be knocked out of her by a knee in her back. The blow caused her to loosen her grip and gave Reaver enough time to roll around and pin her to sandy ground. He pinned her arms above her head and dug his knees into her sides. It took him a few moments to catch his breath and all the while, Sparrow struggled. But in her drunken state and current position, she was too weak to force Reaver off of her.

“I must say, that is the closest...anyone has gotten to killing me,” Reaver chuckled, still trying to collect stolen breath. “And that is the closest anyone has personally gotten to me to kill me. Most attempts on my life are far away.” He smiled down at Sparrow who was still snarling. She looked like a savage dog, ready to rip his heart out if he were to let go of her. “I love that fire in your eyes. It does things,” Reaver purred leaning in closer.

“This fire will manifest if you’re not careful, shitstain,” Sparrow growled.

“Oh ho ho, you have such a foul mouth. I like that.”

Sparrow tried to push herself off the ground, but Reaver had her arms in such a weird position that she couldn’t move. It didn’t help that he had squeezed his legs against hers, preventing her from kicking at him like he did with her. Maybe if she could flick her hand properly, she could get a spectral blade to pierce through his skull. She figured it was worth a shot and began moving her hands.

Reaver clicked his tongue and shook his head. His hands moved to her own and he locked their fingers together. “I’ve always considered Will users cheaters. There’s no fairness in magic.” Sparrow growled and tried to throw Reaver off balance somehow. Nothing worked. The pirate had her pinned completely. She was too weak and drunk to actually do anything.

She relaxed and let her head rest in the sand. “Just fucking end me already. I’m tired of these bloody games Reaver.”

Reaver raised an eyebrow. “End you? What, do you think I would kill you?”

“Really?” Sparrow asked sarcastically. “You literally tried to kill Garth, had originally tried to betray me to Lucien, and even said you would try to kill me. So yes. I think you would kill me. And honestly at this point, if you did, I’d probably kiss you.”

Reaver smiled at that last part. “Is that what would it take to get a kiss from you? Simply end your life?”

Sparrow rolled her eyes. “Yeah have fun kissing a corpse you bastard.”

Reaver leaned in closer, dangerously close. “What if I got that kiss before I ended your life.”

Sparrow frowned. “I wasn’t being serious.”

“Oh but I was.” Reaver smiled again.

Red spread across Sparrow’s cheeks. She had many men and women flirt with her, but they usually fell on deaf ears and had never affected her. Even when she did take them to bed. Most of the time, those lovestruck idiots were simply a distraction to her. A way to ease her mind of things.

But the way Reaver flirted with her was different. She didn’t know what it was, but the redness on her cheeks clearly showed something was amiss.

And she hated it.

She hated that this scumbag piece of shit was making her blush.

He was close enough that Sparrow could headbutt him. Reaver cried out, but didn’t let go of Sparrow’s hands. He simply fell back, pulling Sparrow up with him. She saw this as her chance to break free, but before she could react, Reaver had quickly recovered and had her arms twisting behind her back. They were even closer now and it made Sparrow’s skin crawl.

“You’ll have to do better than that darling,” Reaver smirked. “With the amount of times I’ve been headbutted, I’m surprised there isn’t a permanent dent on my beautiful face.”

“I’m going to rip your pretty face to shreds if you don’t let me go,” Sparrow hissed.

“Now how would you do that with your hands behind you back and legs in no position to overthrow me. You’re completely drunk, I’m still astonished you can speak full words. You have no advantage here. How exactly are you going to beat me?” Reaver asked, his words filled with challenge.

He was right. With her hands awkwardly bent behind her back and Reaver sitting on her lap, his legs keeping hers from moving, there really wasn’t anything she could do. She couldn’t even try another headbutt without risking pulling an arm out of socket. And there was the fact that she was drunk. She could feel the buzz coming over her body fully now, because of the movements she had made. Her head was dizzy.

It was weird, the thoughts now coming to her mind. How was she here, trapped in the arms of the man who basically stopped her from taking her life? Now all she wanted was to sleep. No dark thoughts tried to pry themselves into her mind. No feeling of loss or self-hatred. She was just tired.

Sparrow sighed and let her head rest on Reaver’s shoulder. “I submit. I’m too tired to fight back. Just do whatever. I don’t care at this point.” She closed her eyes and relaxed. She wasn’t going to fight him. Even if he let her go and left her on the beach, she’d just curl up in a ball and sleep, the sound of the ocean being her only comfort.

She could feel sleep starting to take her as Reaver let her arms go. Her shoulders stung as her arms fell to her sides, but she didn’t care. She was too tired to care. She barely reacted to Reaver picking her up bridal style and taking her somewhere. The last thing she saw was the Spire in the distance over Reaver’s shoulder before the dark embrace of sleep finally took over.

#fable #fable 2 #reaver #reaver fable #sparrow #sparrow fable #sparrow x reaver #spreaver #writing #G-W76 #Galaxy:Fable #my writing

17 notes · View notes