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salmonight · 6 months

Text

Free Title Ideas Pt.2

And here is the second part with more mostly likely less titles but enjoy!

(I still cant categorize so take them with apinch of salt)

Low Mood:

Who Mourns an Adonis?

Sinking Sand (Castles)

I Carve(d) These Letters Across My Chest

Smoking Roses

Whispers of the Forgotten

Perfectly Tainted

I Like Dead Things (They Cannot Hurt Me)

A Melody of Misfortune

Echoes of Loss

Crack:

Fake It ‘till You Make It

Honk if You're Scared

Live Fast Die Hot

I Know What I’m Doing — and Other Lies I Tell Myself

True Tales of Bodies(Mostly Mine)

Pinatas are Jerks

Food: A Love Story

You Are Old: Sobering Affirmations for Your Rapidly Disappearing Life

Paranoid-in-Chief

Surviving Your Stupid Stupid Decision to [insert activity]

How to Defeat Your Own Clone and Other Survival Hacks

Learning to Outlive Your Friends and Other Tales of Immortality

Hey, Coffee

Smoking 101: A Beginner's Guide

From Starbucks to Hell: The Demonic Coffee Cravings of Everyday Joes

When Your Summoning Circle Turns Out to Be a DIY Project Disaster From Hell

From Door-to-Door Sales to Demon Summoning: Unexpected Career Paths for the Ambitious

Demonic DIY: Home Improvement Tips for the Dark Side

Delving into the Depths of Dorkness

The Great Demonic Cacophony: A Symphony of Summoning Shenanigans

A Demon Summoner's Guide to Mayhem: How to Summon Chaos and Confusion

Demonic Diversions: When Summoning Turns into Side-Quests

From Grounds to Gateway: How to Open a Portal to Hell with a Cup of Joe

Starbucks, Satan, and Specters: A Caffeine-Fueled Guide to Demonology

The Dark Side of Caffeine: How to Summon Demons and Make the Perfect Latte

Coffee and Demons: A Match Made in... Purgatory?

A Demonic Grind

Romance:

Words Getting Worthless (Love is Wordless)

Honey Without Time

Heartthrobs With A Cheeky Smile

Cause in a Sky Full of Stars, I Saw You

Out of All the Stars in the Sky, I Choose You to Light My Night

At Peace With Stars, in Love With Fireflies

The Love Triangle of Doom

Death:

Phantoms Of The Undead

Shelter In The Graves

Catacomb Without Flaws

Dancing With Your Ghost

Ecto-static

Death Sucks, but the Afterlife is a Blast!

Gods:

Deranged Divinity

Worshipper's Rue

Mystery:

Failing Of The Fog

Stranger Of The Past

Construction Of Twilight

Tree Of The Lost Ones

Rat In The Mist

Giggling Crypts

A Face By Any Other Name

Speak the Truth in Every Sense, Bury It With Innocence

Fantasy:

Forsaking The Elements

Heroes Of The Void

Song of Ice

Lightning in a Bottle

Adrift in the Realms

Fae-n-tastic

Gathering Magic

Three Lullabies of Extradimensional Guides

The Birthday Wish that Sparkled with Magic

Enchanting Birthday Rituals

The Wishing Star Ritual

Destruction /Unhinged:

Sleep as the World Burns

Life is Just a Game (and I'm Playing for the Win)

Inception Of Infinity

Feathers of Chaos

Wingspan of Terror

Burning Brighter Than Hell

Let This City Burn, Burn, Burn

Good Vibes

Shoot for the Moon

Starry Night Skies

Age of Wonders

Streaks Of Laughter

A Lady's Luck, A Robin's Flight

Pt. 1 |

#writing #writing resources #free title ideas #title ideas #titles #title list #fic titles #fic title ideas #fanfic titles #fanfic title ideas #story titles #story title ideas #crack titles #crack title ideas

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rileys-battlecats · 1 year

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Hey has anyone suggested "Mudpaws Flowering" / "Mudpaws bloom" For a name idea for Muds story? Because I just remembered the term alongside the fact that the omen given to Owlpounce was like, a flower of some kind blooming in mud right? Could also play into the idea of Mudpaw blossoming into his best self under his new mentor and circumstance, and how he was 'wilting' under his old mentors teachings.

oh you already KNOW i love me some flower imagery excellent idea

#ask #story title ideas #also #I want you to remember this post specifically #because YOU tumblr user inkycorvid have predicted something without even knowing you've predicted it

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trensu · 10 months

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Steve had always wanted to be a skilled fighter. The schools that churned out the best fighters all happened to be schools for holy warriors. It was possible that Steve maybe sort of lied a little (with the help of his friends Robin and Dustin) to get into this school by claiming he was full to the brim of religious fervor but hadn’t decided who to pledge his sword to yet. It shouldn’t have worked, if he were honest with himself, but by some stroke of luck it did, and he finished his training as one of the top combatants.

The issue now was that he had to pick a god whose crest to carry. There were all sorts of gods. Gods of water, gods of air, gods of agriculture, war gods, cat gods, plant gods...the list was endless. And while Steve was one of the best fighters around, he was most definitely not one of the best researchers. Thankfully Dustin and Robin were very clever and knew where to find details about the many gods in existence.

“So what kind of god do you want to follow? Maybe we can start there,” Robin asked.

“Uh…a good one?”

“You’re no help at all, you know that?” Dustin grumbled.

They suggested a local god known as Carver who stood for righteousness, but Steve turned that down. It didn't feel like a good fit. They suggested a love god by the name of Chrissy, who valued love of all kinds, romantic, platonic, familial...Steve had been tempted, very tempted, because Steve had always carried an excess of love in his heart. Robin had vetoed that one stating that Steve was already too reckless with his love and she wouldn't stand by and watch him break his own heart over and over again.

Dustin suggested a god of knowledge, Clarke, who blessed and guided those with curiosity, imagination, and a knack for invention. Steve shot that one down immediately. He was never one to be overly imaginative or curious; he preferred to deal with concrete things. Out of their quickly dwindling list, Robin reluctantly suggested Hargrove, a war god favored by a nearby kingdom, but if Carver was ill-fitting, then Hargrove was outright repellent to Steve.

"C'mon, Steve, you gotta pick someone!" Dustin huffed in frustration.

Robin thunked her head against the table in the library where they were looking up deities. She was obviously at her wit's end too. Steve, however, just dug his heels in with a particularly stubborn scowl.

"I can't just pick anyone!" Steve said. "If I'm going to pledge my sword to someone, it has to be someone...someone good. Someone that, I don't know, someone I can believe in, even when--no especially when things go wrong. That’s the whole point!"

"Yeah, I get that," Robin sighed, a mix of fond and annoyed, "but this is the eighth book we've gone through and the only one left here is called the King of Darkness which is hardly going to--huh."

Robin paused mid-rant to look at the page more closely. Steve and Dustin both huddled around her to peek into the book as well. Dustin also made a sound of curiosity.

"That's weird," Dustin said.

"Right?" Robin asked enthusiastically.

"What? What's weird?" Steve didn't get what caught their attention.

"This god only has a couple of sentences," Dustin explained, "And they don't really make sense. Something about dark creatures and the undeserving? The grammar and structure is all weird though."

"It looks like a half-assed translation," Robin added with a nod. "We should find the original text."

"Yeah! And if we can make a better translation, we could get it added to the next edition and they'd have to put our names on the book," Dustin said excitedly. Robin's eyes lit up at the thought and they both rushed off to the stacks to track down any original sources.

"Guys! Guys, what about my..."

The librarian hushed Steve, irritated. Steve groaned in defeat.

"...godly choices. Yeah, fine," Steve slumped back on his seat. "I need to find non-nerd friends."

Two days later, Robin and Dustin finished translating a slim, dusty book. They were nearly vibrating in their seats as Steve reviewed their notes on what they found. Dustin gripped his arm and gave him a shake.

"So? What do you think?" he asked excitedly.

Robin slung her arm across Steve's shoulders. With more tenderness than Steve expected, she said, "I know it doesn't seem like it, he doesn't really fit with your whole style, but it could work."

"Yeah," Steve said with a hopeful smile. "Yeah, this feels right."

It took longer than Steve would've liked, but eventually he managed to track down a small, crumbling shrine. It was an alcove carved near the entrance--no more than a crack in the stone really--of a cave at the edge of a lush forest. He almost missed it, it was so drowned in overgrown crawling vines and weeds. It bore a modest statue, no bigger than Steve, standing atop an equally modest plinth. There was a spot that obviously held a plaque once, but it must’ve been dug out by thieves at some point.

The sight of it made something in Steve's chest twinge; a strange pang of melancholy at seeing a god so forgotten and abandoned. It surprised him as he had never been particularly religious, but there was just something about this one that drew him in.

It was the middle of the day, so Steve quickly made camp and took advantage of the light to begin clearing the shrine. He started where the plaque had been, scrubbing off the dirt and moss that had filled the indentation. He knew a good smith; he could commission a new plaque to be made. After that, he weeded the immediate area around the plinth where worshipers would typically lay their offerings and pray.

By the time he finished that, it was late afternoon and he decided that was good enough for today. He had to eat and get a few hours of sleep so he could be alert once night fell. When he curled up on his bedroll, he couldn't help the grin that spread on his face. He was going to offer himself to his god tonight, and with any luck, his god would accept him.

He woke to a multitude of high pitched squeaks and the sound of many, many flapping wings. The sun had just fully set, and the stars that could be seen through the canopy burned brightly. Steve took his time to fasten on his armor and scabbard properly, and fixed his hair so not a strand was out of place. He took a few deep breaths to calm an unexpected bout of nerves before going to the shrine and kneeling.

His god had no official prayers. Or rather, the prayers for his god were forgotten. Robin and Dustin did their best to find anything prayer-like but it had been in vain. They suspected that most of the god's holy items and lore were purposely lost. Lacking that, Steve decided it was best that he introduce himself.

"Um, hi," he started and immediately winced. "Sorry. I'm not used to...this. I couldn't find any of your…holy words? Prayers? The right ways to speak to you, I guess.

"I'm Steve. Steve Harrington. I'm a fighter. I finished my training a few weeks back. I was the top of my cohort when it came to combat. I'm good with my sword and I know how to take a hit. I can turn just about anything into a weapon if it's needed."

Here Steve paused for a moment, straining to hear but there was nothing other than the typical sounds of a night out in the woods. Steve took a breath and plowed forward.

"I want to be more than a fighter, though. I don't want to just wave a sword around for nothing. I want it to...to matter. So I spent a lot of time trying to decide who to wield my sword for. It took me a while, but I found you. I want to be your shield and sword, if you'll have me."

Steve stopped again to listen. Nothing. Robin warned him this might happen. Gods didn't always accept warriors who offered themselves to them, and forgotten gods weren't always reachable. It was fine, though; he’d try again tomorrow night. Steve turned in just before dawn, eager for night again.

Steve worked on clearing the vines tangled around the statue's legs and feet. He yanked out the thick, scraggly vines, and carefully picked apart the prickling thorny ones. There was a particular gnarl of vines that didn't seem like they had a stranglehold on his god's statue. They were healthy and strong, and the way they curled and grew looked more like a caress than an invasion. He decided to leave those on, though he gently rearranged them while removing the more invasive vines so they looked more decorative.

When night arrived with the sound of squeaks and wings, Steve went to kneel at the shrine. He introduced himself again, gave the same spiel as the night before. Still he heard nothing. He scratched the back of his neck in mild insecurity.

“I guess I should tell you I didn’t find you on my own. My friends Robin and Dustin helped me. They’re way smarter than me, you know? Total nerds. I can swing a sword like nothing, but books and research? Yeah, that never works out for me, so they helped me look up all sorts of gods.

“There’s a lot of them. Way more than I thought. Dustin and Robin both recommended me ones or vetoed others. They were getting frustrated with me because I kept rejecting the ones they gave me.

“Then Robin found you. Kind of by accident, to be honest. But she did her research thing and I knew that I wanted to carry your symbol. It took me forever to find this shrine. Robin said this was probably the only shrine you had left, so I had to find it.

“Dustin kept saying it was on the other side of the forest, but obviously he was wrong. Not that he’ll ever admit it, the little shit, but whatever. I’m sorry your shrine was abandoned like this, but I promise I’ll fix it up. I’m good with my hands, I can do it.”

There was no response to his admittedly disorganized ramble. It was fine, he told himself. He needed to be patient. He’d come back the next night.

–

Around the statue’s waist there was another tangled mess of vines, except these vines had died and rotted to dark sludge. There was fungus growing on it, and it reeked. It was gross. Steve scrubbed at it for hours because the rot had stained the stone. He was able to get rid of the rot and most of the stains before going to catch a few hours of sleep in the afternoon.

Night fell and Steve was kneeling for the third time. He repeated most of what he said the previous two nights. There was still no response. He thought maybe he was pushing too hard. He’d never been the super talkative type anyway. He could share the quiet night with his god, if that was what his god wanted.

A few hours passed when he was startled out of his near meditative state by the sound of snapping twigs. He leapt to his feet, hand on his scabbard. Someone–a man by the look of it–stumbled out of the woods. He was pale and dark haired, dressed in ragged clothes that were probably awful even when they were new. He looked like a vagabond.

Steve stepped in front of the shrine, protectively. The stranger grinned at him and Steve could already tell he was not going to enjoy the conversation that was about to happen.

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” Steve asked firmly, cutting the man off before he could speak. The smile only grew wider.

“I could ask you the same thing, sir,” the man said, adopting the annoyed huff of a wealthy lord. Steve scowled.

“I asked first.”

“I asked second!”

“You didn’t ask me anything,” Steve responded, somewhat smug. The man paused and then snorted a laugh.

“Yeah, okay.” He raised his hands in mock surrender. “You got me.”

“So?”

“So what?”

“What are you doing here? Who are you?” Steve repeated shortly. The teasing grin was back, and Steve felt his scowl deepen.

“Nothing and no one, m’lord,” the man bows mockingly.

“I’m not a lord.”

“Huh. Could’ve fooled me. You’re certainly as demanding as any lord I’ve ever met.”

“Oh fuck you,” Steve snapped. “I’m a holy warrior.”

The man laughed at him outright.

“Well that doesn’t sound very holy warrior-ish. Are your type allowed to swear?”

Steve grinded his teeth and decided it was not worth it to continue this conversation for much longer.

“Look, if you’re here to steal, I’ve got nothing on me.”

“That’s exactly what someone with something to steal would say.”

“Well, I don’t! I’m on a pilgrimage and I don’t want to spill blood on holy ground. So.” Steve wrapped a hand around the hilt of his sword. “Leave. Please.”

“Holy ground? Here?” the man barks out a laugh. “Don’t you know what this place is?”

“Yes,” Steve says shortly, placing himself more firmly between the shrine and the man. “Please leave. There shouldn’t be violence done here.”

“Oh, it’s far too late for that. This place used to belong to the King of Darkness. It’s said he was so evil that nothing grew here until he was run out and defeated by the god of righteousness. You know the one. Really plays up the holier than thou thing by making his hair all gold and glowy? Gotta say, you could give him a run for his money though.”

“You’re wrong.”

“No really! Your hair is great. Way better than Carver, even with the glowy thing.”

“Not that!” Steve said in frustration. This guy really liked the sound of his own voice and Steve was starting to get a headache. It was near dawn and all he wanted was to spend the last hour or so in the quiet night with his god.

“So you agree your hair is better than a god’s?” The man tsks at him. “That’s pretty blasphemous. Are you sure you’re a holy warrior?”

“No! I mean, yes. Wait,” Steve growls at his own bumbling. “No, I’m not better than any god. But I am a holy warrior. Kind of.”

“Kind of.”

“Look, I’m working on it so I need you to leave. You’ve insulted him enough already.”

“Your god is the King of Dark–”

“Call him that again, and I will draw my sword,” Steve said, voice steely. “He’s the Lord of Night, and I won’t let you insult him at his own shrine.”

The man goes quiet for the first time since he showed up. He looked almost surprised, his mocking grin gone. His eyes flicked over to the dilapidated statue and then back at Steve.

“Lord of Night doesn’t sound much different than what I called him,” the man said lightly.

“Well, it is,” Steve told him. “Now, will you please leave?”

The man stared at him for a moment before shrugging. “Yeah, alright.” And then he left as suddenly as he had arrived.

The tension that had built up in Steve’s shoulders drained away. He went back to kneel in front of the shrine again when he noticed the barest hint of sunrise on the horizon. He cursed under his breath then was hit with a wave of embarrassment at cursing in front of the shrine and the whole situation that had transpired.

“I’m sorry about that,” Steve said, abashed. “It won’t happen again, I promise.”

–

It happened again.

now with an additional snippet here and here

ps: i do not do those reader tag list things. if you'd like to keep up with my stuff, follow my writing tag: trensu tells stories

#trensu tells stories #stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #robin buckley #dustin henderson #eddie munson #i don't even know what to call this #it's an idea i'm playing with but i don't know how well it works #if you're curious about the setting so am i!#if you figure it out do me a favor and tell me what it is #i have more written but it's not done #i'm hoping to post it as a oneshot on ao3 when i finish it #IF i finish it #we'll see i guess #ETA #came up with a title/tag for this #stasis in darkness

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seventh-fantasy · 4 months

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我赢了。 I won. - 我与他十年前海上一战，赢了他半招他却死了。 I fought him on the sea ten years ago and won by half a move, but he died. -你说既然笛飞声没有死，那李相夷一定还活着对不对？ since di feisheng is not dead, it must mean that li xiangyi is still alive, right? - 我快死了...你不惜一切代价却救不了我。// 好不容易救你出来，你可不能死。 I am dying...you have done everything no matter the costs yet you couldn't save me. // I saved you after much difficulty, you can't die. 君武勇之处，世所罕见，心悦诚服。 your valiance is unparalleled in this world. to which I am wholeheartedly convinced.

dihua + a matter of life and death | 莲花楼 mysterious lotus casebook

#莲花楼 #mysterious lotus casebook #asiandramasource #dailyasiandramas #cdramasource #asiandramanet #cdramagifs #cdramanet #cdrama #cheng yi #xiao shun yao #dihua #lhlgifs #jielin's edits #my posts #this has been in my drafts for a whole ass month idek anm *handwaves* ... and yeah the title is borrowed from a movie #tbh i only wanted to make that last gif with handwritten quotes over it then it turned into making more parallel gifs #noticed that the en subs tled 诚服 to admire. though it's more like to accept/admit to something?#so paralleling it with the line dfs claims victory #something something here about their story being bookended with the idea of competition victory and losses #while like. it's all about their lives being tagged to each other in the middle of it all....handwaves #prob gonna have hell work week coming up next so consider this sort of an early 10th donghai anniv celebration for 6 Feb in advance #not a fan of how i treated the set but i really like the selection of parallels and quotes :[ so i'm still posting :[

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zillychu · 5 months

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I really like your “ghosts treated as natural disasters” au! It’s super cool! I wonder how people get around the fact that phantom has never been seen sucking anybody’s life force out? Do they think he’s building up to something big or just protective of the population center he’s found

That's a great question! I tried to keep that post as short and sweet as possible but oh man do I have a lot more nitty gritty details in mind.

For one, ghosts aren't restricted to Amity Park. They have haunts (territories) but they have lairs in the ghost zone as well, so they tend to go back and forth between the worlds.

However, only the Fentons have a portal with a fixed location, and they rarely have it turned on. (Fun fact: the Fenton portal is made after ghosts explode into the human realm in this AU!) There are areas on earth with higher portal activity, but where they pop up and how long they stay is pretty random.

So, ghosts naturally wander. They pop back into the human realm as they wish, but it's not always close to their haunt. Lots of lesser ghosts don't even have haunts, too mindless for intelligence and more like roaming animals. Smarter ghosts can be curious and explore other parts of earth. They tend to only get defensive of their haunt if they sense other ghosts hunting there excessively, or trying to lay claim on the haunt.

So, in short, Phantom isn't always in Amity. He's there most frequently, but does appear elsewhere on earth at times. There's basically no way to tell how many ghost-related deaths are Phantom's fault.

Not only that, but slowly devouring a human's life force over time isn't uncommon! More intelligent ghosts will do this in an effort to prolong the duration of their "meal", and indulge in the terror it incites. A lot of people simply get very ill and exhausted over time, until there's not enough life left in them. But since this happens to humans naturally all the time, well... it's often hard to tell if the decline in health is from natural causes, or a ghost. (Lesser ghosts don't eat as much, but they have no intelligence to keep them from stopping till they're full. They get full quickly though, so you're less likely to die if one catches you. Just watch out for multiple encounters.)

Danny does take this to an extreme, though! Humans do replenish their life force naturally over time--it's just that ghosts that eat slowly still overcome that natural regeneration. Phantom is literally the only ghost that takes so little over such a large population that it's barely perceptible (unless he messes up, which, oops--that's happened).

But there's simply no evidence that this is probable, or even possible. Ghosts have no reason to do this, it's not as satisfying to them if their prey doesn't experience the terror that comes with knowing they're being drained.

(Also, just another fun little factoid: haunts are usually small! Lesser ghosts will haunt a single item, stronger ones will haunt a building, the strongest on record will haunt something like a park or complex. No one has figured out yet that Phantom haunts all of Amity because that's unheard of!)

Another factoid: ghosts don't need life force to survive! They lived in the ghost zone all this time just fine.

Life energy simply gives them more power, and better ability to stay in the human realm longer, and more corporeal. And it's instinct--it tastes good.

Danny, however, does need that life energy to survive. He needs his ghost half strong enough to stay attached to him, or it could detach and leave his human half dead. Then he'd just be another ghost.

(Also, The more sentient a life is, the stronger it is. So ghosts could technically drain the life of plants and animals, but it's gonna be mostly empty calories.)

#Danny Phantom #zilly squeaks #i need to think of a name for this AU #maybe just a title since it's less of an AU prospect and more just a story idea #hmm #also just another friendly reminder that I'm not protective of my AU ideas!#if you wanna take bits and pieces or the whole thing outright and make it your own? feel free!

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gods-favorite-autistic · 1 year

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Percy: Hey Wise Girl, did you know that I have a YouTube Series? The Mysterious-

Annabeth: The Mysterious Disappearances of Percy Jackson, I’ve seen it

Percy: Really?

Annabeth: Yeah, you’ve got several, but we’ve all got one. I was Rockabye Runaway

Percy: All of us?

Annabeth: Yep

Percy:

Percy: So Nico-

Annabeth: His is “Nico Di Angelo: Boy Lost In Time or Dangerous Fraud?,” comes from a conspiracy channel called TimeTravelersRUs

Jason: What about-

Annabeth: Whatever Happened to the Grace Family by Famous Family Misfortune, they also have one on Piper called Piper McLean: American Darling or American Criminal?

Leo: Ooh, do I have one?

Annabeth: Yeah, yours is “The Boy Who Set His World On Fire: The True Story of Leo Valdez” by Baby Criminals Dot Com, they are convinced that you’ve committed serial arson

Percy: Hazel and Frank?

Annabeth: another TimeTravelersRUs vid called The Girl Made Of Diamonds and a video by someone called True Stories From Around The Globe called Canadian Terror: The Frank Zhang Story. They both spent the entire time mispronouncing their last names

Piper: Hey I think I remember someone asking about that at school-

Percy: WAIT IS THAT WHY SOMEONE ASKED IF I WAS IN A CULT LAST WEEK?!

Leo: Hey someone asked you that too? Nice!

Frank: *sighs* I’ll talk to Chiron

Nico: How did you even let these things get on YouTube anyways?

Annabeth: In my defense, we aren’t even allowed to use technology

Hazel: I’m still confused on what a YouTube is

#I like the idea that they all have YouTube series’#they love to throw around true story a lot considering that they make up half of their bullshit #also I may or may not have gotten inspiration for this from a tiktoker so yeah #credits to them #I feel like almost every time someone makes a video about annabeth they have to squeeze the fact that she ran away at 7 into the title #Piper definitely knew about her and Leo’s but never told Leo about his cuz of the whole. y’know. arson thing #they have all been asked if they are in a cult at least once #pjoverse #percy jackson #hazel levesque #leo valdez #frank zhang #annabeth chase #jason grace #nico di angelo #piper mclean #heroes of olympus #incorrect heroes of olympus #incorrect percy jackson

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llamagoddessofficial · 1 year

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i love the good aquarium au! i want to see the fishes happy 🩷o🩷 How do the sirens interact with mc in this version? 🩷

Sans: He has to wait much longer than his bad AU counterpart to get to 'play' with her. This aquarium is very safety-focused, and unwilling to have anyone even near his open tank, let alone in it. Despite his obvious obsession and courting displays, Mc remains safely behind thick barriers and high out of his reach- the only chance he'll get is if he proves he can behave, and Mc herself is the one who approaches management about the subject of swimming with him.

Her presence clearly has benefits on him, so she spends a lot of time on his shifts, talking to him from up on the railings or entertaining him through the glass, sometimes just doing homework by the dappled blue light of his tank. He does occasionally attempt to pull her into the water, whether he's breaching and knocking the railing or grabbing a feeding pole and yanking it (in the hopes of yanking her in with it)... but he's always unsuccessful.

It gives them time to get to know one another more. Time for him to mellow, realise that just because she leaves when her shift is over doesn't mean she won't come back. Time, so that when they do finally make physical contact, it's a gentle and mutual experience that leaves him feeling like things in his world are going to be okay.

Red: Again, poor Red has to wait a lot longer in this AU to get to swim with his girlfriend. But not as long as Sans. Since Red's so well behaved with humans, his keepers interact with him a lot more closely (albeit while wearing plenty of hand and arm protection), giving him lots of chances to flirt with her close-up. He gets many more opportunities than Sans to show that he can behave with her; though 'behaving' still includes grabbing her butt if she lets her guard down too long.

... In this AU, the aquarium knows Red considers her his mate. Mc does too. After she was suddenly hired, the first thing management did was put her on a pretty intense and in-depth learning course. Now even if he's flirting like a siren she knows exactly what's going on. Initially, it made the aquarium cautious about letting her swim with him- but since he's never going to be released, it might be alright after all. It does make life easier when it comes to things like giving him medicine; he doesn't bite when it's his mate doing the medical checkup.

Skull: Mc ends up interacting physically with Skull a lot sooner than anyone intended. At first, there was obviously zero contact thanks to his kill, she'd only even THINK of interacting physically with Skull if she was completely confident he'd never hurt her. And that kind of confidence would only come from a long while working with him, perhaps years.

... Thing is. He's a clever boy, he wants Mc's affection. And he won't wait years. He makes a 'hobby' out of breaking security measures and pulling her into the tank- at first it's a terrifying incident, but as it happens over and over, it loses its shock value and becomes something of an in-joke at the aquarium. Especially since he never actually does anything... just pulls her in, cuddles her, then politely sets her back on the side of the tank like nothing happened. No matter what they do, Skull just finds increasingly more and more complicated and innovative ways to snatch her into his pool.

Eventually, they can clearly see he's not going to kill her- and they decide it's probably just easier for everyone if she interacts with him in person. He's going to grab her anyway, may as well let him do it before he finds a way to break every security measure they have.

#llamagines #good zoo siren au #love the idea of like. in-world news sites picking up on mc's story #running titles like “This aquarist is accidentally married to three sirens”#“Cute! Watch this shark siren 'flirt' with his keeper!”#“This Deep Sea siren has broken out of his enclosure to cuddle his keeper- eight times!!!”

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rebouks · 11 months

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Previous // Next

Kaito Yoshida skips breakfast almost every day, opting instead for a swim in the Wakaba River to wake him up. It’s cool and quiet as the sun rises; a peaceful alternative to a poorly made cup of coffee.

After an early lunch, Kaito takes some time to dabble in the stock market. A job though he has, it’s mundane and pays little, meant more to keep him occupied than anything else; no, this is how he earns his living. Money makes money after all.

The lunchtime rush at Ai Mizu is predictably hectic, particularly in summer. Famous for its fresh sushi, the tiny restaurant regularly attracts tourists and locals alike, having done so for over fifty years.

He and his co-workers are cordial with one another, but Kaito has no interest in making friends. A precise and introverted woman, the head chef of Ai Mizu apparently appreciates this demeanour; even going so far as to share her personal unagi sauce recipe with him on the sly.

Although it bores him, he often tries to meditate, a favourite spot of his being beside the old canal near Ai Mizu. The local felines, of which there are too many if you ask him, usually have other ideas though, proving themselves to be rather distracting.

He’s convinced some of them are actively trying to kill him, conveniently placing themselves between his legs as he walks, or surreptitiously hopping out of nowhere right before a set of stairs. None have been successful in his demise as of yet, and Kaito has learned he ought to watch his step whilst in town.

Though Kaito’s face was as recognisable as any other resident in Wakaba’s town centre by now, people were still intrigued by the local who spoke Komorebian with ease, despite being foreign-.. judging by his accent rather than his features at least. Never impolite enough to ask questions however, Kaito was left in peace, which suited him more than they’d ever know.

Loneliness was not a foreign concept to Kaito, who had lived with its familiar dull ache throughout most of his life. Try as he might, his attempts at filling that void had never been particularly fruitful; that was, until he found adrenaline. A band aid of sorts, but fulfilling nonetheless.

Kaito escaped to the slopes whenever he could, becoming rather fond of snowboarding especially; not that it was so easy in the beginning, mind you. But, practice makes perfect and over time, Kaito found himself quite at home with the cool wind in his face and the fresh, powdery snow gliding beneath his board.

Rock-climbing however, wasn’t quite so easy to master. Kaito still found himself struggling with various rockfaces now and then. And though he took his late father’s advice with a grain of salt these days, he held steadfast to one piece in particular. Persistence was paramount.

Never one to think of himself as tenacious or prosperous, he was almost proud of how far he’d come; prouder still of the fact that he no longer felt the need to wave his moderate success in the face of those who cared so little for him in the past. He was alone there as he is here. A solitary existence perhaps, but for the first time in his life, Wyatt felt as though he belonged somewhere. He was finally home.

#ts4 #sims 4 #simblr #ts4 story #sims story #forever in between #fib #wyatt shaw #ahem.. kaito yoshida #⚆_⚆#hiiiiiiiii wyatt.. this is where you've been hiding!#sdkjskdj #this is the 'new' thing i was talking abt procrastinating over lol #cos like.. i knew how i wanted it to look but had no idea how to go abt it #i usually don't edit stuff this much but it was fun!!#i like how it turned out #and i've been itching to show u what our beloved villain had been up to #but he's been a good boi recently #still.. idk if we can take that title away from him after everything 🙈

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rileys-battlecats · 2 years

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story title ideas - pros and cons

Mudpaw's Path - simple, but not very striking. A reference to the idea of making choices and moving forward

Mudpaw's Silence - punchy, but how relevant is it to the story? the vibes are superb tho

Mudpaw's Healing - relevant to the story, foreshadowing!! But also doesn't touch on the time with wren very directly? it does imply that there is something to heal from though. big fan of this one especially

Mudpaw's Journey - same issues as Mudpaw's Path I think, but feels a little more literal? also 'journey' was used in one of the canon books I think

Mudpaw's Flight - bird motif!! but this would probably work best for a version where mudpaw runs away from the clan

Mudpaw's Choice - also very punchy/striking, but I feel like this refers to a single big choice, when mudpaw really makes smaller, incremental choices

Mudpaw's Shadow - interesting, but implies that mudpaw has someone following him/mimicking him/something hanging over him, not sure how much it fits

Mudpaw's Regret(s) - I like the sound of it, but it feels like it implies the story is looking back on a story rather than progressing into the future

Mudpaw's Belonging - very sweet :') but doesn't cover the journey to that belonging, which is the main focus of the story

Mudpaw's Home - interesting and also a bit of a double meaning! At first it would be like a mocking sort of thing, his 'home' not feeling like home, but then progressing into having a real home? but also the home aspect isn't the main part of the story... hmm

#story title ideas #I think my favorite right now is 'mudpaws healing' it just seems to fit the story best

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bookshelf-in-progress · 5 months

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Loving Memory: A Retelling of East of the Sun, West of the Moon

The woman striding across the ballroom floor takes my breath away. She is perfection in human form--regal and statuesque, with hair like a raven's wing, skin like a fresh fall of snow, and ice-blue eyes that can captivate a man's heart.

And the gown! It makes her beauty seem almost divine. It shimmers and swirls like rivers of gold, making the icy-white marble of the floor and walls glow with the light of the sun that has not shone here for a month of days. I nearly fall to my knees, but I am a prince--soon to be a king--so I merely bow over her hand, lead her into the dance, and thank heaven for our impending marriage. Jorunn knows I do not love her, but at moments like these, I have no doubt that I shall.

We whirl through the dancers, the lords and ladies assembled for our upcoming wedding, all of them flawless in form, wearing suits and gowns of impossible beauty--a rainbow of velvets and silks, gold and jewels. My betrothed outshines them all. I feel clumsy and common in comparison, and marvel yet again that I am deemed worthy to join--and soon rule--this court.

When the dance ends, I bring Jorunn to the refreshment table, where we take glasses of sweet blue punch.

"You should drink your tonic, darling," Jorunn says, removing a small silver flask from a pocket in her skirt.

"Must I?" I ask, glancing to the watching crowd. I usually take the tonic before bed, in private. I don't relish my future subjects knowing that their king is an invalid.

"You must have your strength tonight," she says, pouring what looks like a double dose into my punch. The icy blue liquid turns a murky amber.

I down the drink in one gulp, cringing as the bitter aroma fills my head. I swear I can feel it coursing through my limbs. They feel heavier than they had a moment before. My head feels murkier.

It passes in a moment, and once again I'm overjoyed to be here, with her, in this impossibly beautiful realm.

I kiss Jorunn's cheek and thank her for her watchfulness. I feel as if I could dance all night.

The music starts up--an enticing melody of flutes and strings--but just as I pull Jorunn into the dance, a commotion starts at the other edge of the crowd. The music stops, and the crowd parts to reveal...something...crossing the floor. Some kind of animal has entered the ballroom--smaller than a bear, larger than a dog, with patches of fur in every shade of white and black and brown.

As it comes nearer, I see that it walks upright on two legs--two human legs, with two small, white human hands poking out from the folds of the fur.

"What is it?" I ask Jorunn. "Who let it into the ballroom?"

"I did," Jorunn says. "She is my invited guest."

I bow my head in embarrassment. "I'm...certain she's quite charming."

Jorunn pushes my shoulder, gently urging me toward the girl. "Dance with her, Eirik."

"I?" I yelp. How could a prince--a future king--demean himself by dancing with such a creature before all his subjects. "Why?"

Jorunn tilts her head toward me and murmurs, "Because I keep my promises. This girl is the one who gifted me this dress, and in return all she asked was a dance with you."

"A strange boon to demand from a woman about to be married," I say. Stranger still that Jorunn granted it.

"We aren't wed yet," Jorunn says playfully. "I can't keep you all to myself, no matter how much I may wish to." She urges me toward the girl. "Go on, my love. It's not too much to ask."

Despite myself, I feel a pang of pity for the creature. She gave away a dress fit for a queen and had to appear in this ballroom in a bundle of furs. Such unselfishness merits a few minutes of kindness. "For your sake, my dear," I say, bowing over Jorunn's hand. "And for hers. I assure you I'll take no joy in it."

Jorunn smiles. "I've no worries on that account."

Fighting a feeling of revulsion, I approach the girl, bow, and offer my hand. "Might I have this dance?"

The girl--she barely reaches my shoulder--looks up at me. A white face appears from within the furry hood--a pointed chin, high cheekbones, a determined mouth, and defiant green eyes.

The woman faintly smiles, and my heart stops. In this palace of perfection, she seems so real. Not ice and gold and glamour, but sun and earth and, oh, a million ordinary, beautiful things I haven't thought about since I came to this place.

"Who are you?" I gasp, the words slipping out before I can think.

Her eyes go wide--confused and dismayed. She throws back her hood, revealing yellow hair. Not golden or raven or mahogany or any of the awe-inspiring shades that make the people of this realm so beautiful. Just yellow. But it is braided into a crown about her head that suits her better than any jewels.

Those green eyes meet mine. "You know me," she says.

I stare into those eyes, which seem to hold something I haven't known I've lost. If I know this girl, I can't remember her. My past before this palace is a murky haze--standing in such brightness makes everything else seem dim.

I shake away the threads of memory before I go mad from trying to grasp them. "Forgive me," I say, "but if we've met, I can't recall."

I signal to the musicians to start the music, and I sweep the fur-clad maiden into a waltz. She is silent as we dance, gazing up at my face as if trying to memorize me.

I say, trying to be kind, "That's a wondrous cloak you wear. I've never seen its like."

It's not a lie. It seems to be made of the skin of every beast there ever was. I see white fur, black fur, brown fur, some solid, some speckled, some striped, all stitched together in a haphazard pattern, as though someone was desperate to make use of every scrap.

The woman looks down. "It is all I had left to me, after..."

I kindly wait for her to speak.

"I've had a great loss," she finally says. "I have searched ever since to find you."

"If there is anything I can do for you," I say, "you need only ask. You have done a great service for my bride."

The girl stumbles.

I catch her and help her upright. "I am sorry. Did I trip you?"

"No," she gasps, grasping her side. As we slide into the dance again, she looks up into my face. "Do you truly not know me?"

"I wish I could say otherwise," I say, and I mean it with all my heart. There is something about this girl that makes the world seem larger than I realized. "Perhaps if you told me your name?"

She shakes her head. "I can't. Even if I could, what good would my name do if you've already forgotten my face?" She bows her head with a strangled noise, and I see tears streaming from her eyes. "I spent so many months imagining this moment. I hoped you'd be overjoyed to see me. I was afraid you'd hate me. But I never imagined...this. That I meant so little to you that you've already forgotten me."

"There is much I have forgotten," I say, before I can remember that none are supposed to know of my affliction. "This place, it...dazzles the mind. There are many things I wish I could recall about the world beyond this realm. If I knew you there, I am certain you were well worth remembering, and it pains me to say that I do not. But whatever we had before, I am glad to know you now."

She wipes her face against the fur on her sleeve. When she looks up at me, her eyes hold something like hope. "Do you think--"

The music slows to a stop, and before we can finish the step, Jorunn steps between me and the girl. She places one hand on the girl's chest and pushes her away. "You've had your dance," she says. "Now trouble us no more."

The girl steps away, but she takes a hesitant glance back at me.

I smile gently. "Thank you for the dance. I will remember your face next time."

Those words put a determination into her gaze that seems instantly to dry her tears. "I will see you again," she says and disappears into the crowd.

For the rest of the night, I dance with the queen of the realm at the top of the world, a peerless beauty with the radiance of the sun who lays a kingdom at my feet. But my thoughts are on a girl with green eyes, wearing a coat made of all kinds of fur.

At the next night's ball, Jorunn wears a sleek gown that gleams with the silver radiance of the moon. It makes her seem ethereal, a woman of wondrous mystery. But she is not the mystery I find myself pondering.

"You seem distracted tonight, Eirik," she says. "Have you taken your tonic?"

Upon my denial, she pours a dose into my punch glass. After one swallow, my racing thoughts begin to slow. What does that strange girl matter? I can be happy here, with this incomparable queen at my side.

A commotion begins on the other side of the ballroom, and the many-furred girl appears among the crowd. I take a hasty swallow of the tonic, but set down the punch glass while it's still half-full.

I look to Jorunn, whose eyes are narrowed toward the girl. "Another dance in exchange for tonight's dress?" I ask.

"Two," Jorunn says. "She drives a hard bargain."

I squeeze her hand. I know my duty with this marriage. She has no need to be jealous. "I will do what I must," I say. "We must keep our promises."

I smile as I approach the girl. She smiles in response, and it makes her more radiant than Jorunn's dress. Again, I am struck by how real she is, practical and solid in a world of wisps and dreams.

"You returned," I say, as I whisk her into a waltz.

"I said I would," she replies.

"I'm glad to know you keep your promises."

She winces, and tears spring to her eyes.

"Forgive me," I say. "I don't wish to cause pain."

"No," she says, shaking her head and wiping her tears into a furred sleeve. "It is no more than I deserve."

"You have broken promises?" It seems cruel to ask, but I think she might welcome the question. It could shed some light on the past that she wants me to remember.

"Only one," she says. "But it destroyed everything."

I remember what she said about her cloak last night. It was all that was left to me. I have suffered a great loss.

"We all break promises sometimes," I say, trying to soothe her.

"Not like mine," she insists. "I did the one thing I was asked not to do. I betrayed the man I loved, and now he is lost to me."

"And he is why you have sought me out? You think I can convince him to forgive you?"

She looks into my face for a long, long moment, step after step, turn after turn. "I don't think," she says at last, "that he knows there is anything to forgive. And that's the worst thing of all."

How can this man be lost to her if he doesn't know she betrayed him? Has she run from her failure, rather than face disgrace?

I know well the temptation to hide from dishonor. Don't I hide my own affliction? This girl has no kingdom to run, but she still has pride to protect.

"Tell him," I say.

Tears flow freely down her cheeks. "I can't."

"I can help you."

"You can't!" she says, dropping my hand. She buries her face in her sleeve. "I don't know why I came."

I place a hand on her shoulder, and fight the strangest urge to turn it into an embrace. "Forgive me," I say. "You come to me for help, and I only cause you pain."

She wipes her face and swallows down a sob. "It's not your fault," she says. "Here I am, wasting our dance by crying."

The song fades to a close. "I still owe you another." I find myself panicked at the thought she won't take it.

"You do," she says, with a wet little laugh. My heart leaps at the sound of it. "Will you give me a chance to compose myself?"

"Take all the time you need," I say, leading her to a seat by a towering window that looks out upon the vast snow plains and a gorgeous spectacle of northern lights. She sits in the soft wing-backed chair and looks out the window, while I stand behind her leaning over the headrest. Despite knowing Jorunn for months, I have yet to have a moment with her that feels this...comfortable.

In the blue-black night, ribbons of violet, blue and green dance and flicker across the sky. The girl snuggles into her robe and gazes upon them with wonder.

"Have you ever seen such lights?" I ask. No matter how many times I see them, they never lose their appeal.

"Many times," she says. "Perhaps not quite this beautiful. Though they are lovely when seen from outside." She lays her head contentedly on her arm rest, using her furs as a pillow.

Her phrasing surprises me. "Do you often travel at night?"

"Night after night after night," she says. "Day after day after day. I never stopped. I climbed mountains, crossed rivers, rode the backs of all four winds."

"To find me," I say. "To find the man you love."

She startled and sits up, looking me straight in the eye. "Yes," she breathes, quivering with excitement.

"I wish I knew how to help you," I say. "You must love him very much."

Her shoulders sink. She sighs. "More than you may ever know."

"I only pray my wife and I can know such love."

She examines me closely. "You mean the princess. Do you mean to say you don't love her?"

It seems improper to speak of such things, and yet I find myself able to tell this girl things I couldn't tell anyone else. Why should I speak less than the truth? "Ours is a political match," I say. "I find her beautiful. I respect her strength. I appreciate her care for me. Love can come with time."

"What would she need to do to make you love her? What would you want in a wife?"

Someone who can come into a ballroom clad in furs and not feel shame. Someone who knows how to laugh and cry. Someone who loves to watch the northern lights. Someone who travels night and day to apologize to a man she betrayed.

In the end, I choose the diplomatic answer. "I don't know that I can ask for more than what I already have."

The girl is quieter during our second dance, carefully content. Her tears are stored away and she will not risk letting them out again.

Now that I'm not distracted by the mystery of her identity, or my lack of memory, or her sorrow over her lost love, I am able to focus on the dance itself, and I find that she is a marvelous dancer. Not so supernaturally graceful as Jorunn, but surprisingly easy to dance with, especially considering that she is wrapped in furs. The woman follows at my every touch, stepping smoothly through turns, patiently waiting if I stumble. I don't stumble often. My limbs feel lighter tonight, my head clearer--strange, given that I've had only half a dose of tonic.

"How did you come to have such wondrous dresses," I ask, "when you have only furs to wear yourself?" The question that had been easy to dismiss last night now seems impossible to ignore.

"You meet lots of strange people when you travel the world," she says with a smile. "They were gifts from some of the most marvelous old women I've ever met. Of course, I've had no occasion to wear them."

"A royal ball is not reason enough?"

"Not if I can't get inside. I'd rather have the dance than the dress."

A dance with me, worth more than a gown of celestial wonders? All for the chance I could help her reconcile with her lost love?

"I am sorry to have been such a disappointment."

"You're not that," she insists. "It's been wonderful just to see you."

"Worth a trip around the world and two wondrous dresses?"

"Not quite," she admits with a smile. "But enough for now. There's still time."

The music slows and falls silent. I bow her out of the dance. "Not for us, I'm afraid. I can give you no more dances."

"Tomorrow, then," she says, smiling over her shoulder as she disappears into the crowd.

Something about her glance--the twist of her hair, the angle of her head--sparks what might be a memory in my mind. Those green eyes flashing. That mouth open in a laugh. White flakes flashing around her as she runs through the snow, while I follow her--strangely--on all fours.

I cannot explain the memory or remember her name. But I do know, whatever her name is, or whatever she was to me, that somewhere in the past, in some way, I have loved her.

The next evening, the last night before our wedding, Jorunn wears a deep blue dress that shimmers with the light of the stars themselves. It is breathtakingly beautiful, but coldly, distantly so--like the woman who wears it. She doesn't smile like the girl with the furs. She doesn't converse while we dance--we can't think of anything to speak of. I can think of no part of my heart I could share with her as I did with the girl last night. I wonder how I thought I could ever grow to love her.

Tonight, Jorunn's offer of the tonic seems, not considerate, but overbearing. Last night I had only half a dose, and I felt better than ever. After Jorunn pours a dose into my punch, I barely sip at it, and when her back is turned, I dump the rest into a potted plant. There will be no more dances after our wedding tomorrow. If I'm to help the girl find her lost love, I want my mind to be as clear as possible.

The glance Jorunn gives the strange girl as she enters the dining room is cold enough to freeze. The girl doesn't seem to feel it through her furs. When Jorunn hands me off, her behavior toward the girl is sullen and hostile.

The girl smiles and curtsies. "The dress is stunning on you, majesty."

"It ought to be, for what it cost me." Jorunn starts to stride away, but then turns around and levels a fierce finger toward the girl. "Not a moment past the stroke of midnight."

The girl bows her head. "I know the bargain."

"Until midnight?" I ask, as I lead the girl into a dance.

The girl smiles. "For tonight, at least, I have you all to myself."

We dance a few dances, while the girl asks me on occasion if I remember anything about my life before. I have flashes of images that might be memories, but nothing that will help the girl in her search. After a while, the girl grows warm in her furs, and we leave the ballroom for the cold quiet of the balcony.

Together, we gaze at the stars and across the vast plains of snow. I remember seeing her like this, on a sunlit balcony in a faraway palace. I wanted to kiss her then, but I couldn't. Probably because she loved another. Just as I am promised to another now.

"Please," I ask in a low whisper. "Can't you tell me your name?"

She shakes her head with tears in her eyes. "Please stop asking. If you don't know it on your own, I can't tell you."

"Why not?"

"It is part of the bargain."

Does Jorunn know who this girl is? "The queen isn't here."

The girl squeezes her eyes shut against some memory. "I have seen the consequences of breaking promises to her. I will not risk it again."

It destroyed everything.

"Your lost love?" I ask.

She nods.

How could that great queen separate this woman from the man she so faithfully loves? What role could Jorunn possibly have in this spat between lovers?

We start down a staircase that leads to a stone path through the snow around the palace. The light from the ballroom windows pours out over us, shining on the girl's furs. The cloak I wear is mostly decorative, and I find myself wishing for furs of my own.

I wore a coat of white fur, thicker than thick.

The flash of memory has no bearing on the mystery I'm trying to solve.

I ask the girl, "If Jorunn knows of your lost love, why do you come to me for help? Why do you not ask her?"

"Allowing me to speak to you is all the help she is willing to give."

I do not begin to understand the complicated politics of this realm. When I am king, I will have to learn, but I will rely on Jorunn for a long while.

"After our wedding, perhaps, I can ask her to help..."

"After the wedding, it will be too late!" She storms down the path. "You'll be married to a woman you don't love! She'll have trapped you forever!"

I try to soothe her. "She won't be able to stop me from speaking to you."

She throws her hands in the air. "You don't understand! You'll never understand!" She is sobbing now. "It was hopeless from the beginning! You can't see the truth about her, or me, and I've no way to tell you! I've doomed us all! I don't deserve redemption, or mercy, or even compassion! I'm the faithless wife who threw away love!"

As she speaks the last words, something flies off her hand, flashing golden as it spirals into the snow. The girl flees down the path, silently sobbing.

I dive for the divot in the snow where the item fell. I pull out a small golden ring set with amethysts and emeralds and ice blue diamonds--the northern lights captured in stone. The ring glitters on my palm, round and flawless. I remember its every facet.

By the One who made the sky and stone, I pledge my heart and soul to you.

Clutching the ring, I race after her and call out, "Karina!"

I stood outside a cottage, trapped in the form of a white bear. The girl with a crown of yellow hair faced me fearlessly and agreed to be my bride, sliding the golden ring upon her left hand.

Short sunlit days on a beautiful tundra. She would ride on my back for hours, laughing for sheer joy as we raced across the snowy fields.

For nearly a year, she shared my bed. I was man by night and bear by day. She was forbidden to see my face and did not mind.

A year and a day, and the curse would be broken. Eleven months after our wedding, I woke to hot wax dripping on my shirt, from a candle she held over my face.

The palace dissolved into dust, and the troll queen arrived to claim her lawful prize. My wife screamed my name as I disappeared into a whirlwind of magic and snow.

In the shadows and snowbanks far from the palace, I grip Karina's shoulders and gaze deep into her familiar, beloved face. "Karina," I breathe. "I remember."

"Everything?" she asks, as tears stream down her face.

"Everything," I say, and kiss her senseless.

Karina and I sit huddled together beneath her coat of furs. I have told her of my months of imprisonment, of the magical tonic the troll queen forced upon me until I thought myself a willing captive. Karina has told me of the harrowing journey she has taken--the three dresses she received from three magical women, the way she rode the backs of all four winds to find me. If there was ever anything to forgive her for, the devotion she has shown in finding me more than absolves her.

I kiss her again as she finishes her tale, finding joy in finding her so real, in knowing my own mind and knowing her.

My own.

My beloved.

My wife.

It is like falling in love all over again.

"I'm so sorry," Karina says again. "I should never have listened to mother. If I hadn't burned that hateful candle--"

I silence her with another kiss. "If you hadn't betrayed me, I wouldn't have this moment. Meeting my wife all over again." I press her to my heart. "I could have no greater joy."

"But you're getting married tomorrow," Karina says. "By the terms of the curse, you must wed Jorunn."

"Trust me," I say, "and all will be well. So long as you will let me borrow your wedding ring."

In the bright light of midday, the ballroom has become a wedding chapel, filled nearly to bursting with lords and ladies and lesser subjects. I now know them for what they are--trolls whose perfect human appearances are nothing but glamours over huge, thick, ugly faces. My would-be wife is ugliest of all, her cruelty coming out upon her in black boils upon her snow-white face and long, pointed nose. The glamour hides her face for now, but it cannot hide the malicious triumph as she gazes upon me--her pet and prize. Her wedding to me will give her dominion over a human realm, and allow her kind to wreak havoc across the world of ordinary men.

She wears the golden sunlight gown, but in daylight, it seems dim and colorless. Even her flawless glamoured face is ugly when I compare her to my ordinary, beloved Karina. My wife is somewhere in the crowd, I know. She has promised to be here, and I trust her to keep her promises.

I do my best to play the magic-addled prince as the highest-ranking of the lords reads aloud their marriage ceremony--endless lists of the glories this alliance will bring to our two realms.

At last, the high lord cries out, merely for form's sake, "Is there any impediment to the marriage between this man and woman?"

"Only one," I shout, stepping away from Jorunn.

Jorunn's expression is black. I can almost see the troll's face beneath the glamour. "Eirik, what is this?"

"Under the laws of troll-kind," I tell the crowd, "Queen Jorunn can wed me if she keeps me here for a year and a day. But there is another law--as would-be husband to the queen, I have a right to set a standard for my bride. If she fails to meet it, all bond between us comes to an end." I stride across the dais to stare into Jorunn's black eyes. "All bonds," I say. "Matrimonial, moral, and magical. Isn't that right?"

Jorunn seems a heartbeat away from tearing out and eating my eyeballs, so I turn to the lord performing the marriage rite. "Isn't that right?"

The troll lord blinks at me. His human form looks like a jittery old man. "That is... technically correct," he says. "But I don't believe this is the right time."

"There is no better time!" I say. "The very last moment when I can see if she is worthy to be my bride."

Jorunn is proud, regal, icy. She steps toward me. "What is your challenge?" she demands. "Make it anything, and I will meet it."

No doubt she thinks she can. I have seen what her magic can do. If I set an enormous challenge--moving a mountain, emptying a sea--she will accomplish it easily. Fortunately, the challenge I plan is impossibly small.

"In the human realm," I say, "we marry under another law--older and more sacred. This marriage rite is bound by the words of a man and woman, and symbolized in the exchange of a pair of rings." I brandish the Karina's ring and hold it high. "By that law, my lawful wife is the one who fits this ring, and I can wed no other."

I search the room for Karina, but I can see her nowhere in the teeming, agitated crowd.

Jorunn stride toward me and snatches the ring from my hand. "Is that all?" she sneers. "Any woman can do that."

Her glamour has fooled even herself. She has forgotten that her hands only appear slender. Trolls can change the forms of others--into a white bear, for instance--even addle the minds of others into believing in changes that aren't real, but their own bodies are impervious to magic. Any alterations to themselves are mere glamours. Beneath her glamoured image, Jorunn's hands are as thick and blocky as any troll's.

Jorunn is unable to slip the ring onto so much as a fingertip.

In rage, she throws the ring onto the floor. It bounces down the stairs and lays flat at their base. "A trick!" she cries. "He has set an unfair challenge! Find me a woman who can fit that ring, or else the challenge is void!"

In the snowy plains outside, I hear the wind building in strength--a whistle, a howl, and at last a roar that bursts open the wide doors of the ballroom. The wind blows the crowd of trolls toward the walls and down to the floor, leaving an open path down which a tiny, yellow-haired girl, clad in a cloak made of every kind of fur, strides fearlessly toward the dais.

I climb down the stairs, pick up the ring, and go down on one knee to offer it to Karina. This time, I can do it with human hands.

"My lady," I say, gazing up into her smiling eyes. "Will you take this ring?"

I slide it upon the fourth finger of her left hand. It fits perfectly.

I kiss her in triumph as Jorunn roars with rage.

Her roar is soon drowned out by the roar of a wind that surrounds me and Karina, lifts us into the air, and carries out the ballroom doors. Soon, we are soaring over snow-covered plains, and before I can fully understand that I am free, the pointed towers of the troll's icy palace have disappeared from sight.

Karina lays on her stomach, the pale blue currents of wind keeping her aloft. She helps me to do the same. While I marvel at this miraculous wind, she is perfectly at ease, and I realize she has done this. My ordinary, unmagical, entirely human wife has saved me.

"Eirik," Karina says, "I would like to introduce you to an old friend of mine."

The North Wind takes us far beyond the tundra where I lived with Karina as a white bear, beyond even the cottage where she lived with her parents, and to a castle in a rocky mountain range that I remember from my boyhood. As the wind sets us upright on the ground before the main doors, I laugh for joy.

"Am I...?" I ask, barely able to believe that I'm standing in this place, where I can recognize every rock and flower that emerges from the melting snow of the springtime ground.

The North Wind now looks like a man--huge and old, with an impossibly large beard. "Prince Eirik," he says, "I have brought you and your bride to the lands of your family."

The full understanding of my freedom comes upon me. Not only am reunited with my bride, not only am I free of enchantment, but I am home, able to move about in the ordinary world like any ordinary man. After so many years of magic, I can think of nothing more wondrous.

I sweep Karina up in my arms and point her gaze toward the door. "Come, my love," I say. "I've waited a very long time to take you home."

#the bookshelf progresses #fairy tale retellings #east of the sun west of the moon #i wanted very desperately to write another fairy tale retelling for new year's eve and i barely made it #forgive the inevitable horrendous mistakes for i've no time to edit #for those who've been following along this is *not* the version of east of the sun west of the moon #that would live up to my idea of the traditional fairy tale #that's an entirely different story #this is a mashup i came up with yesterday and wrote in a frenzy today #and i came up with a title in like ten seconds so please forgive the cringe

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bonefall · 7 months

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Since you mentioned only cats and a few other distant animals are sentient, does this mean foxes are getting their sentience removed? Midnight can talk to foxes in the books and even convinces some foxes to leave a patrol of cats alone (the foxes are WEIRDLY violent and talk about eating the cats too lmaoo).

I assume Hollyleaf's changes mean the Fox Cub Incident is either being moved or just removed entirely, I always found that small plot point interesting in face of all those "Non-cat in clan" AUs. Seems like something that could be interesting if an "us vs them" argument was formed from it, especially if it was targeted against Midnight and calling her unholy yknow?

Yeah, that sapience is gone completely. In this universe, language is limited only to humans, cats, and some distant animals that are far outside the range of Albion (elephants, bottlenoses, some parrots, etc)

And Hollyleaf's story especially. Ngl to you, I don't like that fox idea. Or anything about Hollyleaf's Story. I think it was the worst possible route to take.

"Hollyleaf will be a mother to this evil creature to learn what it's like to love something that hates you. It is so sad to be your mom Leafpool (Squirrel-who?). Don't you feel like a shitty daughter now, Holly? Let's not ask any questions about the code btw, or how you were already filled with crushing shame from it. Or how it made you so disgusted about the idea of pregnant nuns that you flipped your shit and ruined the lives of your entire family. No, what really mattered about this situation was maternal empathy. Also here take the nearest male character we can find to ship you with, we accidentally made Cinderheart too gay when she was upset about your death lmao"

But, digressing, putting my distaste of that novella aside,

WC is profoundly xenophobic already with just the cats, and I think it was a CATASTROPHIC mistake to make it so every animal is secretly intelligent but speaks animal language. Now every conflict between cats and their predators is an ethnic dispute! You're chasing out groups of people perfectly capable of reasoning if you bridged the language barrier, but they're also ACTUAL PREDATORS.

AT BEST; It's the same uncomfortable situations that Zootopia and Lion King ends up tripping over. In Zootopia, predators are used as an allegory for oppressed groups... but predators are MADE to eat prey. A rabbit is RIGHT to be terrified of a fox, twice its size with a jaw made for catching bunnies. In Lion King, lions have divine authority to rule over their dinner/subjects, and chase out any animal based on their personal ideology... which just so happens to only be leveraged against rival predator species.

(Nerd preemption: yes i know about lion guard. I do not think diverse Lion Cops were the solution you think it is.)

Carelessly adding sapience to "natural systems" often ends up accidentally justifying bigotry. Bigotry doesn't MAKE SENSE, it's bullshit we made up and perpetuate through culture, but food webs are completely logical. The rabbit fears the fox because the fox eats rabbits. The lion hates the hyena because they compete for the same food. Gazelles don't happily submit to an overlord who is divinely capable of deciding who should live and who should die, it's just nature.

But it gets even worse-- because it's actually WORST CASE; the Erins saw that complicated moral problem and went, "don't worry! They're actually born evil! Foxes just talk about food and killing things :)"

like... my brother in cats, YOU gave them language in the first place! What was the fucking point if they were just going to be evil barbarians anyway?!? For ONE scene where Midnight could show off her Duolingo streak???

So to summarize,

It was an awful idea to start with

It was executed in the worst possible way

In a series that is already plagued with xenophobic sentiment, this somehow made it even worse and more direct

If it was completely nuked it from the story, the series would be immediately better with minimal change. Holly caring for what is essentially the clan cat-equivalent of an exotic animal like a chimp or a tiger cub would have done the same thing

There is not even a glimmer of an idea here that justifies the poison that full sapience does to the wider implications of the series.

Don't even get me started on the Badger Debaucle in TNP, which is actually in my top 5 for most vile things in WC

So if I don't explicitly say that a species in BB is capable of true language, assume it is non-sapient. Talking animals like Midnight and Rat Leader are magical individuals-- gods, curses, etc.

#Guiding principle #I don't even like the name of Holly's novella. Like. Really. Couldn't think of a better title?#You're really that strapped for ideas?#Couldn't call it her Solitude. Or her Tunnel. Or whatever.#Or hell even call it her Fox #Holly's Story... tune in next week for Lion's Book. Or Jay's 634 Pages.#Our exciting new novella. Squilf's Thing.

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lonicera-edulis · 5 months

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If the Hobbit characters were in the trek universe, what field/job do you think Bilbo would have in Star Fleet?

Also have you read "like warriors from the scientific sagas" on ao3?

Well, he is an adventurer, so maybe him being in Starfleet would work. And he is a writer and linguist 🤔 Maybe he could be like Uhura, a communications officer? He is not a scientist or a man of hard work, so I don't think other roles would fit his canonical portrait. Although, even if I have drawn a crossover art earlier, I don't entirely think mixing Star Trek and The Hobbit works. I don't know how to integrate dwarves and hobbits in that so it won't be an AU where they are Men.

Sadly I haven't read the story you mentioned, I am having trouble concetrating on reading 😢 Not to mention that I have become too picky lately and skip every story if I see something in description/tags that I am not up to read. So I end up not reading anything at all even if I really wish to read a story with my favourite characters. Maybe it will become better eventually and I will be able to read these stories, there are plenty of good and kind fic writers 😭

And I will look up the fic later. Thank you for the ask!