#the remnant fellowship

[areyouafraid]

here's a really good video i watched abt it months back btw

#my posts #the remnant fellowship #not the good girl

[nearlydark]

I’m watching this documentary about this weight loss Christian church cult and I honestly cannot decide if the documentary is fake or not. Every single person they interview feels like an actor. But maybe that’s just people in Tennessee

This is the church leader lmfao

#bigger the hair the closer to god #personal #remnant fellowship

[ambassadorquark]

there’s always one lady in a given documentary who will just randomly say the funniest thing you’ve ever heard

#beep boop #i was watching the remnant fellowship documentary on hbo the other night and i love the woman who kept going 'miss me with that' #great documentary btw like i knew most of it from fundie fridays but the testimonials were really interesting

[mxliv-oftheendless]

Guuuuuys I just watched The Way Down: God, Greed, and the Cult of Gwen Shamblin on HBO Max and HOLY SHIT—

That lady was INSANE

But I ADORED how they interviewed some ex cult members and how even more actually came forward after Part One of the docuseries came out, and how it ended on a hopeful note that maybe the cult would be shut down. 10/10, absolutely loved it!

****SERIOUS content warning for anyone out there with an eating disorder of any kind because they really go into it in the series****

#seriously it’s probably the mother of all content warnings #watch at your own risk #and let’s all give a collective FUCK YOU to gwen Shamblin and the remnant fellowship cult leaders #FUCK YOU #the way down #gwen shamblin #true crime

[insideline]

academic/career competition always makes me feel so terrible. i found this incredible (and very very competitive) internship opportunity and shared w some friends that are in the same field and i feel so much TURMOIL because i know that it makes my chances worse, but also i love them and i hope they make it because they're all incredible, but also i want it so much but also AGH!!!!

#talk #not f1 #what if they get it and i dont.. what if i get it and they dont..... #i would obviously feel horrible if i didnt tell them about it #and it would obviously be a bad thing to withhold information from my friends #but sometimes i do feel like it is only me that shares info like this.... #idk maybe it is selfish and maybe i'm not paying enough attention #but it is very very rare that people ever reach out to me to notify me of opportunities like these #like maybe its a remnant of being in a high school student org that involved sharing academic opportunities with students across canada #that makes me feel physically ill at the thought of keeping these job/internship/fellowship opportunities to myeslf #i just wonder whether people would extend the same to me. you know. idk.

[nycreligion]

Part 11: The Making of the Postsecular City. The reasons it happened

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com After visiting so many new evangelical churches, Tammy Wong’s question is, how did this tremendous change come about? In 1975 there were only ten or so evangelical churches in Manhattan Center City (below 96th Street on the East Side and 125th Street on the West Side) that served English-speaking professionals like her. By 2010 there were over 200 evangelical…

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#Compass Fellowship #Crossways IN2 Church #Evangelicals #Immigrants #Joy Church #Manhattan Evangelicals #Migrants #NYC Leadership Center #Overseas Chinese Mission #Redeemer #Remnant Church #Tim Keller #Tony Carnes #Vision Church #Wall Street #World Trade Center

[theactofknowing]

can i have a little fic of legolas x elf reader braiding each other’a hair? can be in any setting 🫶

i guess…. 😒🙄

braid my hair (if i braid yours)

legolas/gn!reader

a short and sweet drabble, nothing but a nice conversation with soothing hands. about .7k words! i’m a little evil and i changed the prompt a wee bit.

It’d been a simple day of travel, eased by echoed chatter among your fellows and the comforting allure of nature. Your party came to a halt when exhaustion and being famished began to gnaw at the edge of everyone’s attention—urged, by the constant complaints of two hobbits.

Uncaringly, you drop your belongings somewhere, generally, in the clearing of your makeshift camp. Your mind begins to wander as the voices of your companions fade— you hear Gimli’s boisterous voice as he pars with someone or another, informing them on how to properly hunt for dinner.

You huff in amusement before the wind begins to whip your hair against your face like a punishment. You curse to yourself, dragging remnants of your hair our of your mouth before a voice drags your irritation away from the front of your mind.

“You should tie your hair back.” Legolas, the sneak, says, not even announced by the crunch of the forest floor. You’d become accustomed to his quick yet silent nature, after instances one too many of you nearly tumbling off a cliffside from being startled.

“Is that so?” You reply almost absentmindedly, watching as he gingerly sits on an upturned tree. You flick your heft of hair over your shoulder as you sit besides him, ignoring the uncomfortable pricks of the bark. This position wasn’t unfamiliar to you—you’d found him intriguing, his nature was silent yet occupied with quips of wisdom—you spent nights beside him conversing as though you were old acquaintances. “I don’t care to braid my hair, honestly.”

He corrects you, a small smile gracing his features. You drop your eyes for a moment, overwhelmed by the softness to his face as he spoke. “You have no patience for it, you mean. I do.”

You raise an eyebrow. “And you said nothing to me the entire day?”

“I was waiting to see if you came to a conclusion yourself.” He says with a twinge of tease, lacing his tone as a parallel to the sweet smile on his face. He urges you forward with a flick of his fingers, “Come. I’ll aid you this once.”

You turn your back to him, presenting your entanglement of hair. You fall comfortable in the companionable silence that follows his focus. His hands glide through your hair, separating the chunks to rhythmically tend to—over, under. You resist the urge to sigh as his hands deftly massage your head as well, focusing on your thoughts instead. You wonder if his face is pinched in concentration, or smoothed from peacefulness as his hands traveled.

“Do you regret volunteering for the fellowship?” You ask, ignoring the urge to turn and face him as you spoke. None of those who’d volunteered to join the journey had planned to do so, those that came had arrived with the precipice of another task on their mind.

You suppose the answer is simple, because he answers without faltering. “No. To be courageous is to be spontaneous.” He adds, “This is a… very tasking trip, though.”

You laugh, and a surge of confidence spurs you, perhaps from the protection that comes with facing away—there’s no confusion or irritation to be presented with and sink your hopes. You lick your lips, fiddling with the cloth that lines your thighs as you ponder your question. You add on, knowing your innuendo is clear, “Then do you like the company you keep on this long, terrible journey?”

You feel his hands falter in their pattern through your hair—surprising, considering the courage and display of assurance you often saw. Disappointing, you think, and left an itch of anxiety in the core of your chest from his silence—assumingely disapproving.

“Yes,” His voice is soft, akin to the sweet melody he spoke when he whispered of the wonders of nature. You’re surprised, and hold back the urge to perk up from your seated spot. “I do.”

You hum in response, knowing you’re lost for words.

You peer over your shoulder just the once, seeing from the edge of your gaze that a piece of cloth was being wrapped around the tip of your braid by Legolas’ swift hands.

The braid is efficient, and not a single stray hair pokes from its confines. You run your hair over it and nod approvingly, before turning fully to him. You smile, “Thank you.”

He only nods.

requested @sugairsstuff who! hey! also writes

#lotr #lord of the rings #legolas #legolas x reader #legolas fanfiction

[girlactionfigure]

THURSDAY HERO: Mildred Harnack

Mildred “Mili” Harnack was a writer and academic from Wisconsin who moved to Berlin with her German husband in 1930. As Hitler rose to power, Mili created the largest resistance group in Nazi Germany and was targeted for execution by the Fuhrer himself.

Mili was born Mildred Fish in Milwaukee in 1902. Her father William was a teacher, and her mother Georgina was an activist for women’s suffrage. Mili had a natural facility with languages, and was fluent in German by the time she reached adulthood. Throughout her life, Mili loved German literature and culture. She attended the University of Wisconsin in Madison, where she majored in English literature. Mili lived in a rooming house popular with writers, and worked as a film and drama critic for a local newspaper.

After receiving her BA, Mili went on to earn an MA in English in 1925. The next year she moved back to Milwaukee and worked as a lecturer at the Milwaukee State Normal School (now the University of Wisconsin – Milwaukee.) She met Arvid Harnack, a German economist and lawyer who was studying at the university on a Rockefeller fellowship. Arvid was from a prominent family of German intellectuals. After a whirlwind love affair, they were married in August 1926 at her brother’s farm. Arvid’s fellowship ended and he returned to Germany, followed by Mili the year later, after she completed a teaching session at Goucher College in Baltimore.

In Germany, Mili worked on her doctoral thesis and lectured at universities in German cities Jena and Giessen. The country was plunging deeper into political turmoil, and the Nazi party was rising to power amid the chaos. More than half of Mili’s students were outspoken Nazis. She moved to Berlin in 1930 to be with her husband, and began working as an assistant lecturer in English and American literature at the University of Berlin. Mili lectured about her favorite English and American writers including Ralph Waldo Emerson, Walt Whitman, Thomas Hardy and George Bernard Shaw. She was so popular with students that in just a year and a half, enrollment in the class tripled.

Mili connected with other American expatriates in Berlin and formed a literary salon where anti-Nazi academics and intellectuals could express themselves freely. By 1934, the Nazi secret police were everywhere and the salon was disbanded. Fellow ex-pat Martha Dodd, a close friend of Mili’s, later described her Berlin salon as “the last of the meager remnants of free thought.” Many of those who had participated in the salons continued to meet in the Harnacks’ living room but instead of discussing literature, they planned anti-Nazi political activism

Meanwhile, Mili achieved renown as a writer. She published essays in prominent German literary journals until the mid-30’s, when magazines started to print only “approved opinions” (in support of Hitler). She was able to continue working as a translator, and her German-language translation of Irving Stone’s biography of Vincent van Gogh, Lust for Life, was published in 1936.

Mili returned to the U.S. on a book tour in 1937, and her old friends were shocked at the drastic change in her personality. Earlier she had been friendly and easy-going, but four years living under Nazi rule made Mili anxious, stiff and guarded. She’d had to wear a metaphorical mask to survive in the totalitarian German state, and couldn’t shed the mask even when she left Europe. Mili’s family urged her to stay in the U.S. but she was determined to return to her husband and her political activism group, now called “The Circle.”

Mili’s unassuming manner combined with an extremely sharp intellect enabled her to penetrate the highest circles of German politics and diplomacy. She used these connections to get exit and travel visas for Jewish friends and colleagues, among them prominent publisher Max Tau. Mili also surreptitiously gleaned information from highly placed contacts, which she transmitted to fellow members of the resistance.

Mildred was fired from her teaching job at the University of Berlin because of her political beliefs, and she began teaching at night school, where her students were mostly working class or unemployed. She recruited many of them to join The Circle. The group published anti-Nazi leaflets, written by Mildred, and secretly left stacks of them in public places throughout the city.

German intelligence called them “the Red Orchestra” and falsely smeared them as communists working for the Soviets. Undeterred, the group increased their activities and cooperated with other resistance units. Around this time Mili wrote, “I saw it clearly before my eyes. From then on our work not only implies the risk of losing our freedom, from now on death was a possibility.” Led by Mili, The Circle became the largest resistance group in Nazi Germany. They incited civil disobedience against the Nazi regime, documented Nazi atrocities, and transmitted military intelligence to the Allies.

In the summer of 1942, the Nazis intercepted radio transmissions that revealed the identity of prominent resistance fighters including the Harnacks. On September 7, Mili and Arvid were arrested by the Gestapo and imprisoned. Arvid was tried by the Reich Military Tribunal and sentenced to death on December 19. He was hanged three days later at Plotzensee Prison.

Mili languished in a squalid prison cell for months, where she was tortured and contracted tuberculosis. She went on trial and was sentenced to six years in prison. However, Hitler heard about the American woman who fought so effectively against his regime, and he ordered a new trial for Mili. The kangaroo court delivered a pre-determined death sentence, and at Hitler’s explicit request Mili was beheaded by guillotine on February 16, 1943. Her last words were, “And I have loved Germany so much!” After her execution, Mili’s body was given to an anatomy professor at Humboldt University to dissect for research. After he finished, he gave the rest of her remains to a friend of hers, who had Mili buried in Zehlendorf Cemetery in Berlin.

The only writing that survived from her time in prison were a few translated lines from Goethe: “In all the frequent troubles of our days/A God gave compensation – more his praise/In looking sky-and heavenward as duty/In sunshine and in virtue and in beauty.”

Mildred’s brave actions and tragic death have not been forgotten. In Berlin, a street and a school are named for her, and in her native Wisconsin schools observe Mildred Fish Harnack Day. The University of Wisconsin-Madison hosts an annual Mildred Fish-Harnack Human RIghts and Democracy Lecture, and a sculpture of Mili was unveiled in Madison in 2019.

For fighting Hitler at the cost of her own life, we honor Mildred Harnack as this week’s Thursday Hero.

Image: Gestapo mug shots of Mildred taken after her arrest in 1942.

#Thursday Hero 🎖️

[aspenrockymountainhigh]

Celeborn was one of the noblest of the Sindar— who wedded the Lady Galadriel of the House of Finarfin and with her, he remained in Middle-earth after the end of the First Age.

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Celeborn was a Sindarin prince of Doriath,being the grandson of Elmo the brother of Thingol; thus, he was the grand-nephew of the King of Doriath.

In the early First Age, Finrod and Galadriel came to Doriath as guests of Thingol. There, Celeborn and Galadriel met, fell in love, and were soon wedded. Galadriel remained in Doriath with Celeborn after Finrod went to the Caverns of Narog to establish the stronghold of Nargothrond.

For the rest of the First Age, Celeborn and Galadriel are not mentioned to have played any significant role in the general course of events of the Age, while their relatives, both Sindar and Noldor, did. By the Fall of Nargothrond in F.A. 495, Galadriel passed over the Blue Mountains so it seems likely that Celeborn followed her although this is not known for certain.

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After the fall of Beleriand, Celeborn and Galadriel lived in Lindon for some time. Celeborn ruled the fief of Harlindon, which was composed mostly of Sindar, under High King Gil-galad.

Galadriel and Celeborn crossed into Eriador with many Noldor, Sindar, and Green-elves in their following. For a while, they dwelt in the country about Lake Nenuial, ruling the Eldar in Eriador, including the wandering companies of the native Nandor. Probably around S.A. 300, a daughter was born to Galadriel and Celeborn, named Celebrían.They departed for Eregion and arrived there by S.A. 750.It was ruled by Celebrimbor, grandson of Fëanor and the distant half-cousin of Galadriel.

It was only sometime between S.A. 1350 and 1400 that Galadriel crossed the Hithaeglir through Khazad-dûm and relocated there with their daughter Celebrían, becoming great among the Wood-elves.Celeborn decided to stay in Eregion due to his enmity towards the Dwarves.It is said that Celeborn fought in the Sack of Eregion leading the remnants of Eregion out of the battle. He and Elrond narrowly escaped to a dell, where the latter founded Rivendell.

After the War of the Elves and Sauron, Galadriel passed again through Moria with Celebrían and came to Imladris, seeking Celeborn.[8] There she found him, and there they dwelt together for a long time.Some time later, Galadriel and Celeborn departed from Imladris and went to the little-inhabited lands between the mouth of the Gwathló and Ethir Anduin.There they dwelt in Belfalas, at the place that was afterwards called Dol Amroth; and their company was swelled by Silvan Elves from Lórinand.

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After long journeys in Rhovanion, from Gondor and the borders of Mordor to Thranduil in the north, Celeborn and Galadriel passed over the mountains to Imladris, and there dwelt for many years.It was there, in T.A. 109 that his daughter Celebrían wedded Elrond Half-elven of Rivendell.

When Amroth, the King of Lórien, perished in T.A. 1981, Celeborn and Galadriel took up the rule of Lindórinand jointly, and were called the Lord and Lady of Lothlórien, the new name for Lindórinand, and together, they built Caras Galadhon.

During the War of the Ring in T.A. 3019, Lothlórien received the Fellowship of the Ring, composed of various travellers on the quest to destroy the One Ring. Celeborn and Galadriel offered advice and boats for the Anduin, sending them on their way. After the Galadhrim repelled the forces of Dol Guldur three times, Celeborn led the forces of the Galadhrim across the Anduin and took the fortress. Galadriel threw down its walls and purified the forest.

On 6 April,that was the Elven day of New Year, Thranduil met with Celeborn in the midst of Mirkwood and renamed it Eryn Lasgalen, "The Wood of the Green Leaves". With the forest now cleansed, it was divided among the Elves and Men; Celeborn took all the forest south of the Narrows and established East Lórien.

Celeborn attended the wedding of Aragorn II Elessar and his granddaughter Arwen, and on the journey to return, he bade a fond farewell to Treebeard as well. He and Galadriel escorted Gandalf and the Hobbits until the Mountains of Moria, and on 13 September they turned to return to Lothlórien.

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After Galadriel's departure, it is believed that Celeborn relocated to Rivendell to reside with Elladan, Elrohir, and some of the Noldor, having also grown weary of East Lórien.

At some unknown date, he sought the Grey Havens and sailed west aboard Last Ship with his mighty kinsman Cirdan the Shipwright, but when he did so, he took with him the last memory of the Elder Days in Middle-earth.

Art by zephyrAMerch

#celeborn #galadriel #lotr

[beardedmrbean]

Weird question what is the importance of Jerusalem for Christians and Jews? Was Jerusalem the capital of ancient Israel and why Christians like the Templars wanted to retake it?

I got long, I'm gonna TL:DR; at the end ____________________

Jerusalem was the capital of the united kingdom of Israel, well after Saul at least David moved it there and Solomon built the temple there on the piece of land that is called "the temple mount" in English at least which is the single holiest site in Judaism, which if you speak to the remaining Samaritans you will hear different since they claim to be the ones following the true way and their capital was Samaria and their temple was on Mount Gerizim that was after the split of united Israel after the death of Solomon got Judea and Samaria.

Babylonians came in and destroyed and looted the first temple Solomon's Temple in in 587 BC, Assyrians had gotten Samaria and scattered it's people to the wing the best they could getting us The Ten Lost Tribes.

Eventually the Persian empire, (guys from the battle of Thermopylae aka 300 Spartan thing) KO'd the Babylonian empire and they were a lot nicer and also understood the politics of not getting in the way of local faiths because that's one of those things people will die for.

So Cyrus the Great gave his cup-bearer Nehemiah permission to go home and rebuild his city and its temple, so construction on the Second Temple started in 516 BC. (there's lots of extrabiblical stuff to back this up btw, in case you wondered it's not all just stuff from the Torah, names may be different that's fine tho) Ezekiel came in and rededicated it and began teaching "The Law ™" and over time it was expanded and eventually Herod the Great (same one from the Christmas story that killed all the babies looking for Jesus) got it all done and if we look at the timeline and that little bit of info about Herod we can see why Christians are so attached to the place too.

The Temple held the Holy of Holies, which is where the Ark of the Covenant (from Indiana Jones, lol) was kept had the original 10 commandment tablets a jar of mana and Aaron's staff in it and the actual location was considered the conduit between this world and the other, inelegant way to put it but still. It's where the high priest could go once a year and offer a sacrifice for the people, on Yom Kippur the holiest day in both Judaism and Samaratinsim (they agree mazel tov) I remember something about a rope being tied to their leg and they had to wear bells just in case they were "smited" and needed to be "removed" not sure how real that is.

With all of that it should be fairly simple to figure out why Jewish people are so attached to it, and the Jesus connection what with the whole bit about the money changers and flipping tables taking place in the courtyard of that temple, the whole last bit of each of the gospels starting well before the triumphal entrance on what Christians call Palm Sunday all the way through the crucifixion, resurrection, and ascension that was all in and around Jerusalem.

Jews were ending their Passover Seder with L'Shana Haba'ah B'Yerushalayim (Next year in Jerusalem) starting somewhere in the 1400's from what I can see as a wish to be able to go home and worship and fellowship in their own homeland among other reasons.

So here we have the previously mentioned Temple Mount

That bit where it says "Western Wall" is a remnant from the 2nd temple, Jesus touched that and may have taught while using it to shade himself it's all happened there.

The city is in the DNA of every Jewish person and by extension Christians though not as deeply ingrained.

Then we get to Islam, as you see in the image up there they built a mosque on top of the location for the Jewish Temple, it's how history works may have been some middle finger flipping when it happened but as history goes that's how a invading conquering force does thing, always have.

Dome of the rock there on the inside looks like this

The exposed bit there is goes by several names, "Foundation Stone" is one, it's believed by (some) Jews that this is the location where the Holy of Holies was/is and for Muslims it's where Muhammad ascended went on his "night journey" spoke directly to both Moses and Allah to get the law for Muslims some of it at least.

Spot under that rock is the "well of souls" bet you can guess what significance that has.

So bringing it all together and hitting the TL:DR at the same time. _____________________________-

TL:DR; all 3 Abrahamic faiths are very attached to the city of Jerusalem and its surrounding area because it plays a central part in the stories of them.

Jews were there first so they get the strongest claim imho but as it sits it is a holy and revered site for all 3 faiths because it's deeply connected to them all both physically and spiritually.

Slightly less holy to Muslims since their temple mount buildings are just the third most sacred place in Islam, but still dreadfully sacred. ______________

Sorry this was really long, hope it was slightly interesting at least if you read it, it's as accurate as I could make it without spending a lot more time fact checking myself too.

#anonymous

[lucrezia-thoughts]

hi hi hi i have a request for eddie!!!! would u do smthn with him helping his love (gn!reader please) during finals? it's the last month of my semester and i am. Stressed and would simply enjoy some cuddles tysm!!!

Hi there, love!! 💚 first, good luck on your finals!! Second, I hope these Eddie snuggles help!!! 🥰

Stress-relieving Snuggles with Eddie...

Eddie could tell you were stressed by just the sound of your despondent 'hullo' when you approached him at his van at the end of the school day

Not even waiting for a response from him; you let yourself hunch forward and burrowed your face into the center of his chest, allowing his comforting scent of cigarette smoke, the leather of his jacket, and the remnants of his cologne begin to soothe you

"Hello to you too, babe," he chuckled softly as he wrapped his arms around you

"Lemme guess..." he said after you let out an unintelligible sound in response to his comment and before he pressed a quick kiss to the crown of your head and guided you into the van

"Nancy started in on her plan to tackle finals, right? Made a big deal about it and got you all worked up?" Eddie questioned after he joined you in the van and exited the parking lot

Begrudgingly, you nodded your head and sunk a little further into the passenger seat

"Thought so..." he mumbled mostly to himself and parked in front of his trailer

Without further comment, he turned the van off and escorted you up the front steps and through the front door

Taking your hand in his, he lead you into his room and climbed onto his bed after he shrugged off his coat

Patting the space between his parted legs, he silently urged you to rest your back against his chest

When you settled against him, you felt him shift slightly behind you as he let one ring clad hand gently stroke along your arm

"Alright, here's what we're gonna do..." he began, and you turned your head to look at him

In his hand, he had his well worn copy of The Fellowship of the Ring and he gave you a lopsided grin as he single-handedly thumbed open the book

"I'm gonna read to you for a little bit and you're just gonna sit back and relax, okay, babe? I don't want you to think about anything Nancy said... just focus on me..."

#lucrezia answers #hi friend!! #i 💚you #and so does neville nugget #eddie munson headcannon #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson #joseph quinn headcanons #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn #stranger things headcanons #stranger things fanfiction #gender netural

[areyouafraid]

what a shitshow

#my posts #fundie fridays #the remnant fellowship

[troublemakingrebel]

Fanfic Tag Game

Ayyy, @krankittoeleven, thanks for tagging! Love these little lists!

1. How many fics do you have on AO3?

34! (I used to write in two languages, but for this game i count only the English ones)

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

295,814... (~1.5 times more words than "Fellowship of the Ring" by JRR Tolkien *sweating*)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Totally obsessed with Assassin's Creed (Valhalla in particular), but also have some WIPs for Cyberpunk 2077.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Right Behind You (Witcher 3), a piece about epic friendship & love between Geralt of Rivia and the absolute husband material Emiel Regis

10 years apart, no more (AC Valhalla), a fix-it for the fLicKEriNg flame nonsense (if you know you know...)

Shall We? (AC Syndicate), another fix-it that makes Maxwell Roth survive the fire as there's no fire at all

The Truth (The Wolf Among Us), about shaky relationship between the Big Bad Wolf and the Woodsman (i'm so surprised it made it to the top-5!!)

In the Belly of the Beast (AC Valhalla), about Ivarr Ragnarsson eating the forbidden Saxon fruit while no one is watching hehe

5. Do you respond to comments?

Of course! Can't leave them hanging there in silence!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Usually, I don't do sad endings, but the most bitter-sweet one is Pebble (Dragon Age: Inquisition) about a kossith who cuts his massive horns off to look more like a human so he could follow his lover to the city where kossith race isn't welcome :c Although I don't think his lover would let him go there anyway......

7. What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Haha every other one :D But Sun, Rum and Gunpowder (AC Black Flag) has the happiest and the most carefree vibes whatsoever!

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not on the fics, but the ships! I just delete those because why is it an author's problem suddenly that some people don't know how filters work??

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Oh, I sure do ;> It's not extremely explicit (no holes in sight, but dicks and balls can be spotted) and is mostly focused on emotions and dialogues.

10. Do you write crossovers?

Nope, but I write AUs sometimes to spice things up! Modern days AUs are the bane of my existence, and still... somehow... I keep making them...

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

No, but I noticed my lines and phrases in the stories of fellow writers. I appreciate it!!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yeah!! Out of all possible fics, it was The Remnants of a Ruined Past, a Mad Max (the game!) story translated into Polish. Love it lots!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

Never as i am incapable to work in groups haha. I did some challenges though, such as picking a theme and writing something small with a fren to compare the results later. It's very fun and helps to keep your brain gears spinning!

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

Like, the one and only ship that I could bring along if I was stuck on a desert island? Or the one I don't even write for anymore but carry in my heart daily? The former would be Hawke x Varric (Dragon Age 2) because they're a comfort ship with many possibilities for plots. The latter is Ezio x Leonardo (AC II + Brotherhood + Revelations) and Arthur x Eames (Inception) because they started it all hehe.

15. What’s a fic you’d like to finish but don’t think you ever will?

It's a compilation of drabbles written for a very niche CGI Resident Evil movie (Damnation) & very rare pair that i was planning to continue for as long as the planet keeps spinning, but got overwhelmed with the amount of ideas I had in mind :c

16. What are your writing strengths?

Humor and dialogues!

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Everything el– 🥲 Deep character studies, believable politics and fights.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in a fic?

A big yes from me, it ads depth and character when used correctly. Also, it's very interesting to keep an evening reading about the language you're planning to use, even it's for a few simple words.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

It was an attempt to mimic Marie Corelli and write a ficlet for her novel "The Sorrows of Satan". And then Assassin's Creed took my soul and I've never seen it since! Kinda ironic, huh...

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

I'm gonna cheat bc I'm quite proud about Beautiful Decline, a series of four fics written for Assassin's Creed Valhalla. It's an enormous project that was never meant to break out from its confinements and produce three more stories lmao.

Tagging @firefly-partyn and @krankittoeleven if you wanna join!

#ask game #tag game

[mara-xx217]

Ending H (Fear & Hunger) Ch. 13.0- Wizened or Witless?

I'm doing something a little different this time and making what I guess could be called a 'multi-choice' chapter. The parts will be finished soon so I hope you enjoy!

The last of the Fellowship is the current reigning king of Ma'habre but it couldn't be the old man that stands before you, could it? Still... there's an undeniable power in his eyes that makes you shiver in disgust. Is there a point to delving any deeper, or should you just give up while you still retain the remnants of your sanity?

Warnings: Canon Typical Violence, Leering, Genuinely Unpleasant Discussions

“You’d do well to stay clear of that cursed, rotted place.” 

You had already delved too deep. Could you simply just… leave? The man before you was old, ancient, with dark, leathered skin and an iron-grey beard that spilled over his legs and onto the ground. He was hunched over as though pained by the years that he carried on his back. There was… something about him, what, you were uncertain of, but whatever it was, it made your stomach twist into knots and made your fingers reflexively tremble and reach for your weapon. Your companion, Frederick, already had his weapon drawn and was pointing it at the stranger, who didn’t even spare him a glance as he stared a hole straight through to your core. 

“A man cannot attain true godhood. The souls of men are too wicked and tainted, too frail to do so.” With the heel of his foot, the old man tapped on one of the cages behind him, the dog within barking loudly and lunging against the metal walls that contained its feral fury. Every time the cage jostled violently, your heart sank to the depths of the Abyss and came surging back up whenever the beast remained locked in place. 

“What do you know of godhood, old man?! You’re nothing but a fool! A fool that-” As Frederick spoke, the man burst out into laughter, though it was sharp and cruel and lacking any warmth of joy. 

“‘A fool’! Yes, yes! A fool, indeed! Though a fool that you will not best, methinks.” His eyes finally shift away from you and land on your companion, his shoulders visibly bristling under the old man’s gaze. 

“What was that?! You think I am incapable of killing the likes of you-?!”

“D-Don’t-”

“-do not TOUCH me-! You little wretch-!” As you reached for his sword arm, Frederick pulled it from your grasp. He never turned away from the stranger and spat in his direction. Phlegm landed on the man’s steel-toed foot, his facial expression never wavering as he watched your companion turn to walk away from him. 

“-you aren’t worth the effort it takes to raise my sword arm. Come-” Frederick beckoned you over his shoulder as he left the kennel. His footsteps were wet in the urine-soaked floor and echoed against the temple’s walls. A knot formed in your stomach as you watched him walk away.

“...fool. A fool’s ego is a terrible thing, indeed.” The old man was staring at you again, almost as if he was sizing you up. You feel that, if he weren’t so enfeebled and you armed, that he would have inflicted some sort of evil upon you. Sensing your discomfort, he smiled, again void of any warmth or friendliness, just as most things in this accursed place was. 

“Are you a little weasel? Or are you capable of something more?” He was looking you up and down, his eyes raking against your body with enough intensity that you could feel his gaze on your bare skin. It made you shudder in disgust and fear. 

“Hmph- No, I doubt very much that you could do more than be an extension of a foolish man’s dominion…” The old man’s laugh was harsh and kicked your body into motion. You left him, gooseflesh covering you from head to toe. 

Rounding the corner, you can still hear the man’s laugh ricocheting off the walls around you. Frederick was already down the hall, not having bothered to wait for you to follow him. He knew that you would follow him and you did, blindly and with your head down as the old man’s words still repeated in your head. 

‘I doubt you could do more than be an extension of a foolish man’s dominion…’ 

In between the clacking of your and Frederick’s heels, a loud, metallic clank snaps you out of your thoughts. It must have started Frederick too, as he stopped mid stride and exclaimed aloud-

“What the hell was-?!”

The sound of claws scraping for purchase on the urine-slick floor and barks loud enough to reverberate throughout your bones nearly deafens you and freezes you in place. Four large, ragged and frothy-mouthed dogs barreled down from the side room that the old man was standing in. Cold fear freezes the blood in your veins. W-Why would he-? 

Frederick was frozen too, eyes wide and limbs stiff, unable to raise his sword. You both only need to flee deeper into the temple to reach the end of it all. The end…? Or… another path? The temple was the beating heart of this old, decaying place and the entire reason why he journeyed to this terrible place. He couldn’t even remember what the country that he hailed from looked like. What it sounded like… What it smelled like… You were just the same as he, losing what you once were every passing second that you are in this terrible black. 

If you remain in place, you will die, but you will die as yourself and not what you could possibly become should you fall into the shadow of the last withering new god. 

However, if you don’t… 

What will you do?

Run

Stay and fight

@prettycutebunny, @infinitewhore, @kennbb, @slutwithadegree, @dead-bxxxtch-walking, @space-arsonist, @pink-soft-shadow, @sinlessdesire, @hoemine, @memoryofheather, @horny-3

#fear & hunger #fear and hunger #fear and hunger ending h #ending h #fear & hunger Francóis #Francóis the Dominating One #fear & hunger x reader #multipart chapter #there'll be links for the two choices at the end lol

[frodo-with-glasses]

I’m currently fighting off the remnants of a severe sinus headache and therefore might be a bit incoherent, but I just wanted to take a second to talk about “the value of life and impact of death in LotR”, like I said in the tags on this post.

Okay, so. Boromir’s death. Big moment, right? But in the movies, its impact kinda gets lost after Fellowship. Sure, it pops up again in Gondor, where we have to deal with Denethor and Faramir who are still grieving the loss of a family member, but we don’t really have any reminders of it from Merry’s story in Rohan, or from the Three Hunters as they take the Paths of the Dead, or even from Frodo and Sam once they take leave of Faramir.

But in the books, it’s a whole other story. In the books, Merry sees one (1) messenger from Gondor, and he has to stifle a noise in his throat because the man reminds him of Boromir. In the books, the loss of Boromir is lamented not just by the people of Gondor—for whom he was a national hero—but by the people of Rohan, who knew him as a leader of the country that is their strongest ally. In the books, Frodo is interrogated as to the whereabouts of Boromir, and is disturbed and frightened to get the news:

“It would grieve you then, to hear that Boromir is dead.”

“I would grieve indeed. … Dead?”

And you might think it’s odd, that the death of just one member of the Fellowship has such ripple effects throughout the entire story—especially a member of the Fellowship who nearly betrayed them at the end. That doesn’t seem to track with the “cast calculus” that’s woven into the fiction writer’s unwritten bible.

Some other stories would have the Fellowship whittled down slowly, one death after another, until only the Chosen One (and maybe a companion or two) still remain. Some other stories might choose the most shining and flawless “sacrificial lamb” to die and milk the most tears out of the audience on the basis of that character’s purity and goodness.

Some other stories might have killed Sam instead. He’s the closest one to the protagonist, isn’t he? That’ll crush the hearts of the audience for sure.

But Tolkien doesn’t go in for that. He doesn’t go in for shock value or cheap horror or high body counts. (In this story, anyway. I can’t say anything about the Silmarillion.) Instead, Tolkien decides to show us the death of just one man—deeply flawed, and almost a stranger to most of the Fellowship, but noble and beloved all the same—and explore the lingering ramifications of that death throughout the story.

I think it’s a testament to the value Tolkien placed on life that he can make just one death hit so heavily. Boromir’s death mattered because his life mattered. And even if we don’t feel the whole impact of that fact in the moment Aragorn watches him breathe his last, Tolkien makes sure that that last breath lingers over our shoulders for the entire story, until we understand what it truly meant.

Merry has to bite his lip when a messenger from Gondor appears, because the first thing he sees is the face of a man that he only knew for a few months, but who gave his life to try to save him and Pippin from capture and torture.

He lived. He was known. He died. He pulled an arrow from his side and was no more.

That’s all that matters.

#boromir #meriadoc brandybuck #merry #lord of the rings #lotr #my writing #lotr meta #i’m sorry that all of my canon-related posts for this chapter have been sad ones so far LOL #but in my defense the only thing that’s happening right now is a) boring logistics of the riders of rohan moving around and b) merry feels #so i will go for merry feels because they are InterestingTM

[wispstalk]

sanctuary

prompt fill from @nirnwrote - link to list

Most evenings Martin has the chapel all to himself, and he likes these times best. The primate and the other priests and novices stay in the rectory, and Oleta keeps a small house near the arena district, but Martin prefers to sleep here. In the dim hush of the undercroft his solitude is total. He might have come to the chantry for the curative powers of fellowship, but a man can only stand so much of that.

He attends first to the shrine; removing wilted flowers and carefully dusting around offering tokens, pricking his thumb and giving a drop to the candle flames so that Akatosh may hear all the prayers laid out at his scaly feet. Rolls up the prayer mats, moves the benches, sweeps the floor, knocks a few cobwebs down from the walls.

Lastly he gathers up the remnants of the evening meal and a costly jug of oil for the lantern that hangs above the entrance. The lamp will burn through the night. The primate says the lamp is a symbol of the guiding light of Akatosh; oft with a pointed reminder that the faithful must know the hour is never too late to seek sanctuary. Martin thinks it a waste of oil.

The hiss of rain greets him at the threshold. This surprises him. Few sounds can pierce the thick and ancient stone, rendering the chapel an island unto itself while the world passes by outside. After a moment’s consideration he leaves the plate of scraps beneath the eaves, out of the weather. The primate probably wouldn’t approve of drawing the city’s ragged, skittish strays straight to their doorstep, but he hadn’t turned Martin away all those years ago.

He lights the lantern with a breath of fire from his palm. In the shadows that pool low in the streets, he spies a pair of eyes reflecting lamplight. Waiting for him to leave. As he pulls the heavy oaken door aside, a little grey blur shoots past him.

“Hey!”

The cat darts beneath benches and scrambles up tapestries to evade him. As she jumps down onto the crowded altar, he slips in a puddle left behind by her wet footprints, and throws up a hand to avoid cracking his head on the stone shelf. She dances expertly around the offerings with little mincing steps, not knocking so much as a stray petal loose. Martin, frantic, seizes his opportunity, only to knock an elbow into the statue of Akatosh, sending it wobbling on its base.

He steadies it and lets out a huff of relief. The cat eyes him warily for a moment, then looks away and begins licking rain from her paws with practiced indifference.

Martin eases himself down to a step below the altar, to sit and catch his breath. Watches the sand trickling down from the hourglass clutched in the dragon’s claw. This humiliating exercise took up a good half hour.

The cat leaps down and perches beside him, hunching into a contented little loaf. “Really,” he says flatly. She mewls in response. The little cat has a strange, rasping cry— only then does he notice the raw pink abscess on her neck, plastered with wet fur. The aftermath of a battle with one of the other strays, most like.

“It’s not easy out there, is it?” he sighs. She takes a cautious sniff of his offered hand and permits a scratch behind the ears. “Ah, well. That storm isn’t going anywhere, so you may as well stay.”

The last grain of sand falls to the bottom of the hourglass. Time for Martin to ascend the belltower and sound the hour out over the drowsing city. He crosses the chapel floor, his footsteps echoing in the emptiness, and then he hears a little chirp. The cat trots along behind him, with purpose and assurance, and he can’t help but smile at how quickly she decided she belongs here.

#tes oblivion #martin septim #ray writes #cat the cat