#II. EVENT / striking ice.

[radiowallet]

Meant to Be - Part 2

The Engagement

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Ellaria Sand, Eventual Oberyn Martell x Fem!OC (nameless, third person) Summary: Preparations are made for a wedding, and both bride and groom are plagued by nerves. WC: 5.8 K Warnings: 18+ MDNI Canon-typical violence, grief, death, political intrigue, arragned marriage, drinking, mentions of food, allusions to vaginal sex, allusions to masturbation. Oberyn being a sexy little shit. Oberyn Martell comes with his own warning.

A/N: As always, a few things to keep in mind: This is an alternate universe that takes place after the main events of the show. Bran is still king of Westeros. Sansa is still queen of the north. Oberyn lives. Doran never had any children. Our Fem!OC is from Winterfell, but she is not a Stark and is a blank a canvas physically.

Masterlist II Series Masterlist

Part 1 >>> Part 3

Engaged with your heart

Intended for mine

Come to me and I will meet you

In between and all around

If Winterfell was named well, then Sunspear was preordained by the stars above. From her first steps out of the carriage she could feel the heat piercing through her heart, bright yellow streaks singing through the sky and cutting across her cheeks. Still, the chill of the north clings to her bones, a reminder of the home and family left miles and miles behind. She can still feel the puff of Sansa’s breath on her neck from where the two held tightly to one another, a prolonged goodbye that followed her across the territory, her dearest friend’s voice ringing in her ears.

“I should travel with you.”

“You’re needed more here.” 

Cold hands cupped her cheeks, ice blue eyes finding her own. 

“You can still change your mind.”

But she had refused to go back on her word, even as a deep curl of anxiety settled upon her shoulders, a bitter lining along the fur of her winter cloak. That same cloak is clutched in her arms now, a poor substitute for the friend she left behind, the yellow sun beating down upon her as she steps forward to meet her future. 

“My lady,” Prince Doran greets and she smiles despite herself, his smile small but warm. He strikes a formidable figure, even bound in his wheelchair, and when she bows, the respect she gives is heartfelt. She’s glad she had the foresight to wipe the last of the charcoal from her hands before arriving when the prince takes one gently in his own and places a friendly kiss along the ridge of her knuckles. 

Prince Oberyn stands tall beside his brother, the vibrant hues of his orange and gold robes contrasting with his cloudy demeanor. He gives a nod and then a bow, eyes connecting for the first time beneath the fiery tendrils of the Dornish sun. He does not move to take her hand and she does not offer, and yet…

She cannot look away. 

Something swirls low in her belly – nerves, perhaps – as she looks upon the man who she will call husband. 

He is more handsome than any books or rumors could ever truly do justice; a sharp jaw framed with dark facial hair, a hooked nose between cinched in brows, the deep brown of his eyes tracking her as she steps close to stand before him, a peak of tan skin, the column of his thick neck dusted with freckles. She feels like she can track them as easily as she does the stars, her fingers twitching at her side, suddenly desperate with the need to paint the constellations across his body. 

It’s an urge that comes and goes before she lets herself understand the meaning behind it, instead meeting her betrothed’s gaze head on as she curtsies.

“It is wonderful to finally meet you, Prince Oberyn,” she says, repeating the words she had practiced in her head again and again throughout her travels south, proud that they came out steady despite the hammer of her heart. 

Still he does not speak, but at the sound of her voice, his lips part, and she tracks the clench of his jaw as it loosens around the tip of his tongue. He tilts his head again, his eyes shifting, the color like sweet honey as he traces her features from head to toe. She tries not to shrink beneath his stare but it feels a true impossibility, sweat beading at the back of her neck, the slick of it sliding down to pool along her stiff collar. The sun is too high, her dress too tight.

Oberyn’s gaze too warm. 

But then he’s frowning again, looking out and away into the blue sky, fists balled tightly at his side. 

The rest of the pleasantries are tabled for later, the two pulled apart just as swiftly as they were brought together. A pair of women dressed in loose folds of gauze and silk lead her to her chambers with the offer to settle herself before dinner is served, and she leaps upon it, desperate for a cool splash of water on her overheated cheeks and a moment alone to catch her faltering breath. 

Her quarters are larger than she could have imagined, a sight her mind can barely comprehend especially when it feels like the biggest pieces of her heart are still waiting for her between the stone walls of Winterfell. But here in this sweeping space, every corner glowing with a light she did not know exists, she feels as if she could stretch her arms out wide and fill this space completely. 

The sitting room seems to spill endlessly outward, open doorways that lead to a terrace glittering beneath the late afternoon sun, the waves of the Dornish sea rocking a pleasant rhythm down below. It’s familiar, comforting, and already she’s picturing falling asleep to the soothing sound in her ear. Waking up to the creeping rays of a sunrise, the weight of an arm around her bare waist.

She frowns. Shakes her head. The memory is gone. 

As she steps in further, she spies a bed dipped in luscious shades of burgundy, and just beyond that, a porcelain tub. Her body aches to fall into both, the hardship of travel making itself known in the tightness that’s settled between her bones and the fatigue that plagues her mind. One of the women calls her attention away, a secret smiling pull at her painted lips.

“The door just past your bedroom leads to Prince Oberyn’s–”

“Liddy! What are you suggesting?” The other woman gasps, but her smile is just as sly.

“What? It’s not as if the Prince is so concerned with propriety. He’d probably welcome all thre–”

“I think I’m just going to lay down, thank you!” She shouts above their laughter, ignoring the pang of jealousy that threatens to rise up her throat as she watches them leave with their arms woven tightly, heads pressed together as they continue to swap teasing secrets. 

At the mention of his name, reality makes its presence known again, and it’s all she can do not to thrash at her own choices. The room suddenly feels smaller, enough to push her out into the open space of the balcony, sea salt air pricking at her skin. 

Oberyn had been less than pleased in her presence, and it was clear that their upcoming nuptials was not a day he was looking forward to. She couldn’t say she disagreed; it was not as if she had been climbing the trees up north in search of a husband to tie herself to. No — she was here out of duty to her home and love for her queen — but that did not mean she intended to approach the matter with a sour taste in her mouth. 

The Prince seemed to disagree. 

She glances back towards the bed, the archway of a door now visible just behind it. She feels no desire to go to it now, and bitterly, she wonders if she ever will. 

And yet she cannot look away. 

———

Dinner had been tense.

To say the very least.

A sullen Oberyn sat at the far end of the table, arms crossed, his food left untouched. It had been his mood for most of the afternoon, going about his business with a frown stitched permanently into his lips. 

He had barely spoken, his thoughts seemingly twisted in the darkest corners of his mind. Ellaria watched as he stomped from one corner of his quarters to the other, his eyes stealing to the doorway that led to where his future wife was resting, but never once did he move towards it. She had wanted to speak, perhaps suggest, maybe ask for an explanation of some kind…but with a bite to her own tongue, she fought the urge.

The northern girl was seated to his left now, a matching frown curving her features downward. Her movements were stilted as she picked at the plate in front of her, barely more than a bite making it past her lips. She still wore the same dress she arrived in, the heavy brocaded fabric wrapped around her like a fortress. Ellaria wondered briefly how much of Winterfell she still carried inside her, to be able to walk about Sunspear dressed in such a way.

Neither of them spoke a single word throughout the entirety of the meal, lips sealed shut and gazes pointed very much away from the other, leaving Doran and Ellaria to fill the silence. 

Every word felt stilted, awkward, like knives drawn across her skin. It wasn’t long before both she and Doran gave up the pretense of conversation all together, tired eyes meeting across the table in exasperation. She could hear the older man’s steady voice even as he kept his thoughts very much to himself.

Patience, my dear. We must have patience.

Ellaria did not possess the fortitude that Prince Doran seemed to pride himself on. Patience, she has found, never suited her when the ones she loved most were on the line. 

———

“You will go to her.”

Oberyn glances over his shoulder, his refusal burning at the tip of his tongue. He says nothing, instead ignoring Ellaria’s command with a frown and a shrug, turning his eyes back to the sky above. He had needed fresh air after dinner, craved it, like a drug he wished would flood his veins. He had come back to his quarters in a rush, barely gifting the others gathered in the great hall with a parting goodbye. Once in the safety of his rooms, he stripped himself of his robes and headed straight for the balcony, Ellaria trailing each and every step he took. 

“Oberyn.”

Again, he does not answer, fingers curling down and around the banister, knuckles bleeding white from the strain of his grip. He considers the shape of them, the pull of his muscles and the crack of his bones beneath the stretch of golden skin, wondering why he could not use them to piece together the messy shape his life had taken upon itself. 

These hands had studied ancient text, had held babes fresh from his lovers’ wombs, had avenged the death of his sister and her children. They had accomplished all he had set out to do, and yet now they choose to fail him. 

Behind him stands the love of his life, and one room over, the woman he is intended to wed. 

A woman he did not know. A stranger. A mystery.

But that did not stop the urge to reach out to her, to cup her cheek and touch his lips to hers; to take her hand gently and lead her to his bed. He grips his hands tighter to the polished wood, the compulsion following him even now, the want so strong it felt more of memory than daydream. Oberyn licks his lips and swallows, the sound like sand between his ears, before finally turning to face Ellaria, his decision final.

“Not tonight.”

———

And so it goes. Three nights more of the same; Oberyn’s petulant avoidance and silent fuming matched only by his betrothed’s stubborn frown and persistent presence. 

He had grown restless with nerves over the past few days, taken to pacing like a caged animal, torn between wanting to scream and desperate to fuck. He’s lost count of the times he’s sought the solace of his hand, hard cock gripped tight, thinking of anything but her. Anything but visions of her face and clever tongue that seemed destined to tease along the edges of his fantasies. 

He would normally call upon every brothel within the region as a sure distraction, but it’s only Ellaria he seeks out, when his grip grows tired and his knuckles ache. He pressed himself to her fully each time he filled her, tired of the facade, wishing inward and outward for her to be his soul’s match.

And still she haunts him. Haunts the place he once considered his safe haven; now overrun with the very essence of this woman he did not ask for but cannot seem to refuse. 

“As worse a pebble in my shoe and twice over the inconvenience,” his only reply when Doran had asked after his opinion of her. 

In the mornings he watches as she walks the courtyard, arms twined around her chest as if to shield herself from the frigid temperatures she left behind; a truly ridiculous notion considering the heavy dresses she continues to wear despite the warmth shining from up above. By her second day in Sunspear, Ellaria has taken to joining her, the girls trailing at their skirts as the two women walk beneath the shade of the lemon trees. Oberyn can see their lips moving from where he hides up above, though he isn’t sure why he does so. 

They do not spare him a first or second glance.

His mind conjures up the worst of what they could possibly have to discuss, and yet the sight of them arm in arm leaves a pit of something swirling low in his belly. He blames his overwrought nerves as he stomps away from the balcony, impetuous anger and unfurling desire sticking to his heels. 

During the day, she seems to disappear, though he hears the servants speak of her intricacies with kind smiles and earnest laughter. Charcoal nicked from the kitchen, small scraps of parchment along with, and requests for wine tasting of cherries instead of plums. He does not seek her out but it’s as if he can feel her on the other side of his bedroom wall, her furious hands scribbling away, her lips stained a cherry red. 

They are seated beside each other for every meal, her woodsy scent overwhelming and intriguing him, and it is all he can do not to drown himself in cup after cup of Dornish wine. He simply turns away and grits his teeth, leaving the table more hungry than he had been before the meal had ever started.

Come the fourth night, Ellaria has had enough. 

“The wedding is one week away.”

“We shall see,” Oberyn murmurs from his bed, eyes half-lidded as he watches his lover undress, stroking his cock, the pull of his hand slow, deliberate. The last of her clothing falls away and he feels his length twitch in his palm. 

“You will go to her.”

“Come to bed,” he coos, not bothering with a rebuttal, instead spreading his legs that much wider.

Ellaria does not move from where she stands at the foot of his bed, body bare and so very out of reach. 

“Tonight.”

Oberyn sits up, eyes narrowed, and teeth barred, a venomous refusal seeping through his veins like poison. But in a flash he thinks of her — bright red wine and bits of parchment, stained fingers and painted lips — and he falters. 

“Why do you not hate her?”

Ellaria’s smile twitches, but never falters. She crosses her arms as she moves to join him, her body curling easily into his own.

“Why should hate be the assumption?”

Oberyn thinks it seems most obvious but it does not stop him from saying the truth aloud. 

“I am marrying another woman, when it’s you that I…” he chokes off, shakes his head, then starts again. “I love you.” 

He hates this feeling. Loathes it. His confidence shaken. His heart inexplicably torn. Restless fingers reach for her and she complies, long arms resting along the broad shape of his shoulders. 

“I am happy, my Prince. Loved by a good man with his whole body and his fiery heart. He has given me four beautiful daughters and I am honored to stand beside him.”

“But you deserve more,” he hisses, the urge to jump to anger rising up his throat yet again.

She leans in to steal a kiss, her breath warm where it mingles with his own. When she pulls away, her smile is still as it was. 

“You forget sometimes, my paramour, that not all of us wish to sneak away from the life we’ve been given. Some of us know how very different things could be if the scales were to tip in another direction.” 

He nods, unsure if she is right but too tired to fight her on the matter. 

“Go,” she murmurs, lips kissing at the hinge of his jaw. “I will still be here.”

The promise is enough to push him out into the hallway and without a reason why his feet carry him forward. It isn’t until he’s stepping into the grand hall, his betrothed standing with her back to him, that he realizes he had no way of knowing that this is where she would be. 

———

“Trouble sleeping? Or have you been running with the wolves for too long?”

She does not jump at his greeting but her shoulders rise, something like nerves crawling up the the base of her spine at his intrusion upon her private moment. She sneaks a glance back, catching Oberyn’s expression in her sight line. He seems to take her silent reaction in stride, stepping deeper into the room, eyes pinned to her form. 

After a moment’s consideration, she cuts out a reply, her words bitter but her tone soft. 

“He speaks. And here I was only a day away from asking the Lord of Sunspear if his brother was mute.”

“Sharp teeth. Fitting.”

She frowns, turning to face him fully. “I am no wolf, Prince Oberyn.” 

His eyes are dark, casting a piercing stare from where he stares her down. His figure is striking, his shoulders rigid. His head held high. 

“What would you prefer I call you then? A lady, yes but not nearly a Stark and not yet a Martell.”

“I think my name would do just fine,” she offers before turning back around, her eyes tracing the shape of his brother’s throne. 

He says it now, almost as if he’s savoring the feel of it on his tongue, and she ignores the pounding of her heart as it sings for him, and still she can’t help but wonder how it would sound moaned between the silk of his sheets. 

Her frown deepens. 

“What do you want, my lord?”

She hopes he does not miss the hint of sarcasm she touches to his moniker. 

“Less of your presence, to start.”

It is like ice down her back, Oberyn’s stormy glare and tight posture matching the sting of his words. She does her best to wipe the look of pain off her face but she’s one beat too late. The prince does at least have the grace to look half-regretful for his honesty. She steps around him, suddenly exhausted from the unintended confrontation. She gives a small bow, tipping in close enough to smell the plums on his breath, and then it’s gone, stolen like a dream she can’t seem to remember. 

“I will see you tomorrow, my Prince. I hope you sleep well.” 

He calls her name just before she crosses the threshold, a request following in the swell of his baritone.

“Meet me here again. Tomorrow night.”

She doesn't reply, her only answer the soft step of her feet as she walks away.

———

The shape of the water eludes her. She watches the waves rise and fall closely, crashing up and down onto the sandy shore just below the jut of her balcony, wondering how it is they move the way they do. The parchment in her lap sits blank, her finger curled around a piece of charcoal, itching to bring the image to life but unsure where to begin. 

The sea seems so much more alive than she had ever thought it to be. She had tried to ignore it at first, the desire to match its fury on paper, instead keeping her eyes on the lemon trees lining the courtyard. They were familiar even in their newness, a shape she could easily replicate if she wanted. She had been walking amongst them every morning, alone at first and then not. 

Ellaria had proved good company, the other woman seeking her out on her second morning amongst the groves. She politely introduced herself and assured her she did not mean to pry upon her solitude, admitting outright that she was simply curious. The direct honesty was comforting in its own right, similar to the blunt cut of a northern wind. Before Ellaria could take her leave, she offered her arm in request.

“Will you walk with me?”

“I will.”

It was not meant to be a fast friendship. Those things took time. But she could feel a kinship forming that was a balm to the loneliness she had been ignoring with a steadfast stubbornness. 

Ellaria spoke with confidence, not in a way she lorded over anyone, but instead speaking as a woman who has seen a great deal of what the world had to offer. She did not force the conversation of Oberyn upon either of them but instead allowed it to come them naturally, before finally admitting she was the one who had sent him to her the night prior. 

“I know the situation is less than ideal, but I thought maybe…” Her words drifted into nothing, eyes watching Loreza pluck white petals from a low hanging branch, her small fingers gentle. Delicate. 

“Oberyn is as ferocious as the sea, and all the more deadly for it. Some say to be patient with him, to allow his tide to rise naturally.” Their steps slowed, Ellaria’s gaze matching her own, watching her daughter with unfettered love and adoration. “I never could understand waiting when I had legs of my own, content to meet him halfway.”

The other woman’s words carry more weight now than they did this morning. The sound of the sea is persistent in her ears, her legs curled beneath her, her head empty save for the sneered contempt of her future husband. Ferocious. Unpredictable. Loud. In any other circumstance, she is certain she would find him grating; enough of an annoyance to turn her back and never spare him another thought. But she intends to stand firm, the choice she’s made settling the argument before it’s even begun.

Oberyn’s invitation lingers at the back of her mind, and she wonders if he intends to wait for her. Or perhaps he took her silence as a decided refusal. Before she can stop herself she’s unfolding her frame and walking the familiar path back to the great hall. 

He is waiting for her, standing just inside the entryway, his arms crossed behind his back, his posture regal as he takes in the high ceilings and sweeping space. All of him seems to glow, the muted shades of yellow stitched into his robes catching in the candlelight. He seems at home half-hidden amongst the shadows, and she allows herself a moment’s breath, catching herself before she gets lost in the sight of him. She crosses behind him and up towards the center of the room, not able to find the right words to greet him, choosing instead to let her silence speak for her. 

For some time they simply share the space, no words to give in exchange for each other’s presence. Instead they pass the time as they had been since her arrival in Dorne – together, but not. 

It isn’t until the candles have burned down low, the hour far later than the previous night that Oberyn finally speaks.

“You do not like the dresses provided to you?”

She glances down at her dressing gown, thick fabric in shades of grey cinched tightly at the waist. The bulk of it was so very out of place on the sunniest side of the map, practically weighing her down, trapping her where she stood and yet she had clung to it. Desperately so. Her final piece of armor. That explanation is too intimate to give away so soon, and so she simply parrots his words from last night back to him.

“I am not yet a Martell.”

The briefest sting that crossed his features almost felt good in the moment, but alone in her bed she could not shake the guilt that stuck to her insides, sleep only finding her as the sunrise began to sweep slowly across the shore. 

———

“We could call it off?”

It’s their fifth night together in the great hall, but only the third time he’s chosen to speak. They’re both sitting; she curled along the steps that lead to his brother’s throne and Oberyn perched along the high council’s table, one leg propped up, his bare foot flat on the polished wood. She had averted her eyes a little too late, heat racing up her neck and sitting heavy on her cheeks when she realized the prince was bare beneath his robe. 

“What?” she asks, shifting her eyes carefully to his face before pointing them away again. 

“The wedding. Call it off. You could leave in the middle of the night. I would provide you with whatever you need.”

She is quiet for a moment, lips caught between her teeth, picking at her fingernails, soot staining the skin beneath and little done to wash the dirt away. She had considered it. Of course she had, in the lonely hours of the morning, aching for snow and leaves and cold stone beneath her feet, still trying to adjust to the silk and sand of Dorne. And yet…

Something kept her rooted in place, something that felt stronger than honor to a place or love for a queen. But as she sat in silence, struggling for words, Oberyn kept speaking.  

“No one would expect any more than what you have already given. It is not as if you are truly of noble blood.” 

She stands at that, the abruptness of her movements enough to jar him off his perch, both feet falling to the floor below. 

“Do you have any honor? Any at all, Oberyn Martell?”

Her face is twisted, her fists balled tight, and she moves quickly, refusing to let him see the tears that threaten to spill. With fast feet she moves out of his reach and back towards her quarters, one final reprimand slipping from her lips.

“I think you and I have very different ideas on what it means to be noble, Prince Oberyn.”

When she is finally alone, only the flicker of candle light to keep her company on the long walk back to her quarters, does she allow the tears to fall.

———

The smell of citrus always seems to burn brightest in the morning, the rise of the sun matching the yellow tang of lemon on his tongue. Most would think Oberyn to detest the early morning hour, his dalliances keeping him up until well into the night. It is a fair assumption but not always the most accurate.

There is a peace this early in the day; the air carries the slightest chill, the sky not yet filled with a fiery heat, tepid blues melting away to a shimmering orange across the shore. He reveals in it, when the mood strikes, finding solace in a serenity that is not always commonplace in his life. 

The courtyard is quiet, save for the slap of bare feet, Dorea and Loreza racing across the stone path, disappearing up into the lemon groves, and returning to where he and his brother wait, the bright yellow fruit clutched between their tiny fingers. 

Doran takes the offering with a smile, crossing his eyes and sticking his tongue out as far as he can, the pair of them erupting into giggles that ring out to meet the sunrise. 

“Your papa and I used to do this very thing every harvest. Sucking the juice from the rind until our lips burned.”

The girls hang on his every word, asking to hear more and in the blink of an eye Oberyn is lost in the memory, same as Doran. Two boys racing down the curved steps, the rush of sea crashing in the background, their knees knocking and elbows jabbing, in search of an early summer treat. If he allowed himself, he swore he would hear Ellia’s voice chasing after them in a plea to slow down, her skirts rustling as she did her best to keep up. 

How simple things seemed. 

He’s back in the present before he can properly cling to it, his daughters still laughing as their uncle tears through the thick skin of the fruit for them. Oberyn tries and fails not to notice how his brother’s hands shake from the effort, and a pain he had been dutifully ignoring threatens to rise up. Doran, having caught his eye, is quick to divert the conversation. 

“I hear talk of a quarrel between you and your betrothed?”

Oberyn chuckles, head shaking from side to side, letting his palm cup the curve of his cheek, the first rays of sunshine starting to warm his skin. Certainly he is not caught off guard by the question, but his frustrations threaten to swallow him whole anyway. It seems unlikely he will find peace in this morning. 

“Who in your staff have you assigned to spy on us, my dear brother?”

“You give me far too much credit, Oberyn. This palace may be large but it is still a small world we live in. Word travels of its own accord. I have no need to rush it along. I am a patient man.” 

Doran hands each girl a large slice of lemon as he speaks, and they squeal as the sour taste hits their tongues. Oberyn watches them as they take off, now in search of blossoms for their hair, and he marvels at the simplicity of their hearts. He hopes they can hold tight to it, if only a little bit longer than he was ever allowed. 

“Go on, then. Tell me how I should do the honorable thing and offer her my apologies before tomorrow comes.” 

He should not be so surprised when his brother only laughs, passing him his own slice of lemon with a hearty jab of his elbow, so very reminiscent of all those summers lost in the long ago. 

“Oh, my brother! You are about to be married. You have your whole life to apologize. And with your track record it will be more often than not. I think perhaps you can simply count yourself forgiven if she meets you at the end of the altar.” 

“And if I am alone?”

“Well then,” Doran offers, shaky hands bringing a slice of lemon to his own lips, “perhaps she is not the fool you have made her out to be.” 

———

The layers of gauze and silk draped across her skin feel heavy, a sneaky trick considering how light the fabric felt in her hands earlier this morning. She had chosen the dress from the many left for her in her room, unable to resist the golden hues on today of all days, fingers tracing the vibrant stitching of the sun, crystals that seemed to glitter of their own accord framing the length of the gown. 

Each step she takes feels weighed down, her gait slipping on the polished floor, the beaded sandals tied to her feet foreign and uncomfortable. She shakes out her fingertips, desperate to tug at the necklace fastened around her neck, the ruby red jewels choking back her breath and stealing her voice, but Ellaria’s hand in her own stops her. 

Just beyond the double doors, sealed shut and hiding her from view, is the sound of music, the murmur of a crowd, a call of her name to signal her entry. It overwhelms and saturates, only the crash of the waves and Oberyn’s tempered anger filling the space between her ears. She feels too hot, too cold, and so very suddenly she wishes Sansa was here to hold her other hand. She curses inward, hating herself for refusing her friend’s offer to make this journey with her. How foolish of her to think this would be so easy a task accomplished. 

She can hear Ellaria call her name, once, then twice, and slowly she turns to look at her, trying to steady her heartbeat in the depths of her honeyed gaze. She licks her lips and blinks back the saltwater sting of tears, wishing her words would present themselves clearly.

“I was not until…I had not truly…he does not…” she glances back towards the doors then to the open windows, unable to look into Ellaria’s eyes when she finally admits the truth aloud. 

“I am frightened.” 

“I don’t think there would be anyone who would dare discount that feeling.” 

She nods again and tightens her grip around the older woman’s hand. “Will you…will you walk with me?” 

“I will.” 

They walk together slowly, and if not for the pomp, for the circumstance, it could just as easily be another of their shared moments between the lemon trees. But with each step further down the aisle the crashing sound inside her head booms louder. Waves slamming up against the rocks, drowning out the sense and sensibility of the choice she’s made, and waiting for her at the end of it all is Prince Oberyn.

He is dressed in the palest shades of yellow, save for the chain around his neck, the jewel at the center the deepest shade of scarlett to match her own. He stands tall, hands folded behind his back, his eyes watching as the two women move towards him. The look on his face is indiscernible, his lips parting around a silent question as he looks first to Ellaria, then to her.

She takes a breath in, holding it in her lungs until they burn, smoke and fire threatening to swallow her whole. Her head spins faster with each step she takes, her knees buckle, her steps falter. Beside her, Ellaria is balanced, the grip she has around her arm secure, her presence soothing. It is only when she reaches the altar and the other woman moves a hair away, do the tears she had been fighting all morning finally fall. 

She hears her name again, spoken gently, cutting through the screaming sound of the sea inside her heart. But it is not Ellaria’s soothing voice that pulls her to the present. Instead it is Oberyn calling out to her, and when she looks into his eyes, she finds an anchor waiting for her.

“Take my hand.”

She looks down at his offered hand, his palm open, thick fingers splayed out wide, an invitation and apology waiting in silent patience. She breathes in again, letting it leave her lips softly, slowly, the last of her nerves leaving her to stand tall before the man she’s chosen. 

For worse. 

For better. 

Oberyn’s lips twitch up, the smallest of encouragement, and after what feels like an eternity too long she reaches out for him, sliding her hand gently into his own. 

And the world goes blissfully silent. 

———

Dedications:

Forever and for always grateful for @jazzelsaur and @astroboots for keeping me on track with this one. Oberyn and Game of Thrones in general is so far outside of my comfort zone, and their support of this fic that embraces so many things at once has meant so much to me. I'm literally writing this story a sentence at a time, in between wrapping presents and making cookies and the mad dash end-of-year rush at work. So having the two of them to bounce ideas off of has been nothing short of my saving grace. I love you hoes. Thank you!

Also big thanks to @grogusmum for chatting Oberyn with me in the DM's. I am officially gone for that menace of a man and Hazel has been so wonderful in talking this story with me.

#Oberyn Martell #Oberyn Martell fic #Oberyn Martell x ofc #oberyn x ellaria #game of thrones #game of thrones fic #pedro pascal characters #oberyn martell fanfiction #Oberyn Martell x female character

[erikiara80]

Theory: the car crash in the winter of 1976 (Part I)

You can read Part II here

I've been working a lot on this theory, and I keep finding things lol. In this post I focus on '76. In Part II I'll talk about the cars.

I think there are many hints that there might've been a car crash in the past (for example, the wheelbarrows) and that that's the event that separated El from her family, Joyce, Hopper and her brothers.

Basically, the theory is that she wasn't abducted at birth. The lab helped her parents to have her and Will (I think Jon is Lonnie's kid) because of Agent Orange. And maybe Brenner was waiting for El to be old enough to test her abilities, or maybe it's something else. Anyway, I think she lived five years with her family, then there was a car crash and powers/a time loop saved her. Or she was brought to the hospital and it was there that powers made her "crawl backwards", like Steve says to Nancy in S4 (here)

And "be swapped in the hospital (to tell you the truth)" like Karen says in S3. I have also a theory about Karen, but that's for another post. It's interesting that she says at the hospital, and not at birth, and in S4 Brenner calls the lab hospital.

I think that from that moment in 1976 it was like El was never part of the family and she became "Terry's kid" and a lab kid. "One's kid." The flashback of Sara's death could be an altered memory of what happened to Will and El after the accident. Or maybe there's even a bigger twist about Sara, but I won't talk about it here. This post is long already, lol.

@chirpsythismorning noticed something interesting. When El saves Max, the camera rotates counterclockwise. And her arm reminds me of the hand of a clock. Same counterclockwise rotation when Brenner dies.

Why in winter and why in 1976

There are many references to ice, feeling cold, frozen. The snow, connected to Hopper and El.

El saying that she comes from a bad place, and the boys saying that it's Sweden, a cold sub-zero place. Imo, the frozen lake, the reason she ended up in the other bad place, the lab.

The song California dreamin' playing the day before Will's birthday

And the last line in S4: 'It's snowing' while Max is in the hospital and Lucas and Erica, brother and sister, are with her.

There are also many hints that something bad happened in 1976.

S1: The reporter says that the authorities suspect that Will was victim of foul play and that seven years before ('76) another person drowned in the quarry (*) S2: Lucas tells Max that a very decomposed body was found there. The truth hidden in a fake story

Castle Byers flashback. Will doesn't get too scared anymore. Joyce jokes about her witch and he says that he's not five anymore ('76). Joyce's witch could be a reference to the Witch of the West. In S1 Hopper calls the lab Emerald City. Also, in Castle Byers there are a rainbow, a stuffed lion and a microscope -> connection to the lab.

Possible hint at Lonnie's involvement in the "accident" (I'll talk about the trunk in Part II) When Jon was nine/ten he made him kill a rabbit, an animal associated with El and Alice/Henry. Jon was born in 1967, so the rabbit (El?) died in '76. I also think it's not a coincidence that it's Jon, a boy worried about his brother, who sees Barb disappear in a pool. Jon says he cried for a week. He mourned that little rabbit...

Also. When he tells Nancy about the rabbit, he says that he's a fan of Thumper. And in the Nancy and Steve dialogue about crawling backwards, Steve says that what he needed was a thump on his head, to finally start crawl forward

First day of kindergarten ('76) Will was swinging by himself. Swing sets are associated with both Willel and the Creels, and one of the swings is always broken or missing. If I'm right, this is brilliant: this beautiful Byler moment could also be a hint that Will shouldn't have been alone that day. His sister should've been swinging with him.

The lifeguard at the pool: 'No one in the water until 30 minutes after the last strike. You wanna get electrocuted, go climb a tree'. A very specific line and another possible hint that someone ended up in the water (a lake) and that powers (the strike) saved them. Behind him a poster with the date '76 and the word Happy Birthday.

In 4x01, El says that they're all time travellers and that it feels like it's been ten years since she saw Mike. 1986-10 = 1976.

There's also the poster of the Salizburger Festpiele of 1976- Der Talisman. We see it as Murray and Joyce are talking about Russia and Murray is preparing his ice bath (and he was the one who thought El was a russian spy, so this is about her). Once again, connection between cold and 1976. Plus, The Talisman. Lucas read Stephen King's novel, The Talisman, a story about parallel worlds and Twinners.

EDIT 2/3/24: Ross posted a photo of A Wrinkle in Time. The book was published in 1962, but this is the cover of the 1976 paperback edition (here)

(*) In the quarry scene there's also a cool parallel with Fringe, one of my favorite shows. Mike wears the same shirt Peter wears in episode 3x15, Subject 13 (my post about Number 13 and Polivia-Byler parallel)

In that episode, Peter almost drowns in the same frozen lake where Walter opened a portal to the other universe.

And it is revealed that Olivia can travel to the other universe when she's scared. The trigger? Her violent stepfather (looking at you, Lonnie) Why would he hurt the kids? Jealousy, money, or both. A possible parallel with Billy's father, who was jealous of his wife and in Billy's memory asks her: Did you see him again?

#el hopper #willel twins #eleven hopper #jane hopper #time loop theory #timeline theory #byers hopper family #will byers #st theory #st analysis #jonathan byers #alice creel #lonnie byers #st parallels #stranger things

[tatterings]

Lamentable is the Autumn Picker Content with Plums - Chapter 7 - "A Tangle of Weeds"

Pairing: Astarion/Halsin

Rating: PG-13

Tags/warnings: Spoilers for early act II, mentions of PTSD/trauma, battle, violence, angst.

Word count: 7.3k

Note: This is the seventh chapter of my first ever fanfiction!

Sorry it took so long to get this chapter made, y'all! I had 5,000 words trying to summarize all of the events in Act II and hated it.

So I had to start over. And here we are, at 7,300 words just for this chapter, lol. Big big thanks to @solmesia for taking the time to read through multiple drafts and do a beta read, and also go back-and-forth with me bouncing ideas. <3

I’ve also posted this on AO3. Fic under the cut!

The shadow-cursed lands truly were a horror to behold; Astarion ranked them with other disturbing sights, such the mindflayer nautiloid, brothels set alight, or even worse, - Wyll insisting they’d help a random stranger with no payment upfront. The other sight that had turned Astarion’s already-cool blood into ice was how quickly Halsin’s mood had shifted as soon as the shadows had thickened around them. As they descended from the hills of the Mountain Pass and into the thick of the shadow-cursed lands, the druid’s jovial smile had faded, his lips taut with focus.

“The shadow curse is just as foul as I remember it,” Halsin had said his voice almost a growl, “And… perhaps even worse.” With height to his advantage, he lifted his torch high above his head; but it hardly shed light beyond ten meters. Once the torchlight faded, their surroundings were as black as pitch poured into the air. Even Shadowheart, devotee of Shar, was unnerved by the desolation.

The walkways were cracked, uneven; the land torn apart by the sheer force of the curse’s spread a century ago. Halsin, usually more than happy to strike up a conversation, seemed lost in his thoughts unless directly addressed.

“So.. this shadow curse is Shar’s doing?” Gale had asked as they walked, keeping their ranks filed tightly. “I knew it was some sort of magic, but different from the Weave of Mystra.”

“Yes, despite the many lives lost trying to stop Ketheric Thorm’s evil from spreading across the land,” Halsin said, his tone serious as he scanned the edge of their visible range for threats. “Ketheric had abandoned Selune after personal tragedies and massed a Sharran army in his grief. Of course, loss is a part of the natural cycle; it should not be interrupted.”

Astarion glanced back at Shadowheart as Halsin spoke; her nose crinkled in a sneer. The vampire rolled his red eyes and walked closer to Karlach, who emitted a decent bit of light by her infernal engine.

“So that’s where the druids came in?” asked Wyll, who kept Scratch on a tight lead. It would not do to let the dog’s skillful nose lead him into the shadows.

“Correct, Wyll; we druids of the Emerald Grove, as well as the Harpers could not let this darkness spread. So, we joined forces to stop his army,” Halsin continued. His strides were long and purposeful. Everyone besides Karlach had to walk at double-speed to keep up. “We were successful in defeating Ketheric and his forces. We interred his body into the Thorm family mausoleum.”

“If you defeated him, then how did the shadow curse come to be?” asked Lae’zel. “It seems your blade must not have struck deep enough, if Ketheric still released the curse.”

“You may be right,” Halsin said. He released a deep sigh that made his large shoulders sag. “Shar is a spiteful goddess; with his last breath, she gave him the power to release the shadow curse. It washed over the land like a flash flood. Anything, and anyone, touched by the darkness warped was into the corrupted beings and places around us.”

Karlach’s body sizzled with rage. “And that bastard’s damage has been here for over a century now, yeah?” she asked. Halsin nodded at her question. “High time you had some help to get some sunshine out here, soldier!” Karlach beamed at the druid, who smiled weakly back at her.

“Unfortunately, that’s not the worst of it,” Halsin said. He lifted his torch closer to a gnarled tree branch above the pathway. As he patted it with his large hand, it seemed to crumble into dust. “The very spirit of this land seems to have disappeared. Thaniel, as I know him… or knew him… for him to have no presence here is grave news.”

The group had been silent in response; the adventurers knew nothing of this Thaniel or nature spirit. Astarion, whose idea of ‘communing with nature’ meant enjoying wine on a veranda, had no words of solace to offer Halsin. Even the vampire, who had no interest in finding out which chirps belonged to which bird, had been unnerved by the complete lack thereof. No birdsong had rung from the twisted treetops. There had been no rustle of squirrels amongst fallen leaves.

Halsin’s additional news dropped a heavier burden on the shoulders of the adventurers. They marched in silence, with the only noise being the jangling of their own packs, the crunch of their footsteps on gravel, the crackle of their lit torches, and the occasional agonized screech of a shade. Their grunts of effort joined the symphony as they climbed a steep hill. Having the high ground was beneficial in any location, but even more so in such a foreboding wilderness. It would serve as a decent enough place to make camp for the evening.

“So you think we might find answers to the tadpole problem at Moonrise Towers, Halsin?” Gale asked, receiving a nod from Halsin. “And you think Thaniel might be there as well? What awaits us there?

Halsin jammed his staff into the coal-colored soil, using it as a post to which he could tie his torch. “I…do not rightly know, if I am honest Gale,” Halsin explained with a shrug, “But.. I think it is as good a place as any to get a start.”

****

Halsin bedded down at the front of the campsite; he wouldn’t run from the curse this time. The opening of his tent faced away from the campfire; he wanted to easily launch from his bedroll at a shadow-cursed creature.

But given how they’d lit up their campsite with cantrips, torches, and lanterns, it was doubtful that one of the twisted beings would try to slip into the light. He sat at the entrance to his tent, his knees pulled to his broad chest, and his arms wrapped around his shins. The druid stared into the distance; but even with elven eyesight, he could not see much beyond the camp’s lit circle. Occasionally the shadows would flare in the distance, blue green magic flickering like the hottest part of the flame.

The shadow curse flickered with power whenever it absorbed the life force of a creature; he recalled seeing the same visual as the curse rolled from Moonrise Towers a century ago, lapping up his friends and allies in bright turquoise flashes.

Something rustled around the edge of the tent, and a shadowy form appeared in Halsin’s peripheral vision. He slammed his hands on the ground in front of him, eyes flashing golden light as he prepared to wildshape on all fours.

“Halsin! It’s just me,” said Astarion, holding two wine glasses in one hand, and a wine bottle in the other. “I’d say I’d enjoy being ravaged, but, well, we’ve had that discussion. And I certainly would not want to be ravaged by those claws.” The vampire wiggled the wine bottle at Halsin’s hands, fingertips glowing with magic.

Halsin released a breath he didn’t know he was holding. It was a relief and a joy to have Astarion’s company. “I’m sorry, Astarion,” he said, sitting back on his heels. His brows knit upward and a meek smile pulled at his lips. “I’m…on edge in this place.”

Astarion joined the druid, folding his legs underneath him and sliding to a cross-legged position with catlike grace. “Aren’t we all,” the pale elf said, with a lilt and a small giggle. “So I felt it prudent to raid the stocks. Better than tiefling vinegar wine, I hope?” The vampire poured a conservative serving of wine in one glass, before looking up at Halsin through his long eyelashes. “It’s so quiet here.. I know you said you don’t imbibe because you turn into even more of an oaf, but we could use some singing honestly. Regardless of how bad it is.” The vampire’s smile was gentle. Genuine.

Halsin held a hand over the glass meant for him. “I appreciate the thought, Astarion, truly, but I will have to decline,” the druid could see the disappointment in the vampire’s face, his ruby eyes rounding with concern. “But I would love your company while you enjoy it. Please, go ahead.”

The vampire’s eyes narrowed, and he tilted his head back. Halsin felt scrutinized.

“It is nothing to do with you, I assure you. I was not being fully truthful with you at the tiefling party,” Halsin explained. He picked up the empty glass with his large hands and twirled the stem in his fingers. A nervous habit. “I do not partake now, because I did so too often, in the past. Specifically, after I lost Thaniel to the shadow curse. Honey mead was my drink of choice.” Halsin looked to Astarion and winked. “As suits a bear. But as for an elf, it left a sickness in me. Once I realized the damage I caused because of its misuse…I decided it was best to forgo it completely.”

Astarion’s expression softened as he nodded, his ivory curls bobbing about his ears. “I see…Well, more for me then,” the pale elf replied, swirling the wine in his glass. He held it to his nose to inhale the aroma, closing his large eyes. “So. This Thaniel. Was he a lover of yours, druid?”

Halsin caught himself from falling backwards out of surprise. “Oh no, quite the opposite,” he said. He shook his head furiously, as if to shake the disturbing thought away. “At my current age, he is like a son, to me. But I have known him since I was a young cub.”

The vampire’s eyes narrowed again, and his bottom lip protruded in a beautiful pink pout. “Like a son? Halsin, if you’ve known him since you were a child, he must be hundreds of years old now. What in the hells do you mean?” He took a sip from his wine, licking his top lip. Halsin caught sight of a sharp fang tip.

The druid studied his hands in thought, before meeting Astarion’s gaze. “Well, I believe Thaniel may be many hundreds, or even thousands, of years older than myself,” he said, with a shrug of his well-muscled shoulders. He noticed Astarion’s eyes darting to them and back to his face with unnatural quickness. “Thaniel is the embodiment of this land. The.. formerly untainted purity of nature is manifest in Thaniel himself. So, as best I can tell, that is why he takes the physical form of a child.”

Astarion studied Halsin’s face over the rim of the wineglass as he took another sip. He pulled the glass away and held it daintily, a slender pinky raised in the air. “A rather apt explanation. As good as any, I suppose. Although nature is hardly innocent,” the pale elf said.

Halsin chuckled and placed a large hand on Astarion’s back. He delighted in the coolness of the vampire’s skin, even through his flowy cream tunic, which was a welcome relief from his intense body heat. “Ah, Astarion, and you say you’re not in tune with nature,” Halsin chuckled again, “While there’s no intention behind her actions, Nature has her own form of fury. You know, storms, earthquakes, and lightning. Think of a child being refused a sweet - their anger manifests in much the same way.”

The vampire nodded, his lips turned downward in thought. Halsin continued. "In earnest, his physical form matters not. But, when I was younger, it was a welcome sight to a loner whose closest friends were animals," Halsin said with another shrug. He leaned back on his hands, his gaze directed at the shadows. "He was... is... my best friend."

Astarion took another sip of wine, swishing it along his palate. “You were bound to be a druid from the start, it seems. But how do you mean, you were a loner? That’s quite a transition to go from that, to being an Arch Druid,” he said, flashing a pointy-toothed grin at Halsin.

The druid shifted the weight of his torso from one hand to the other. He felt especially restless this evening. He took a deep inhale and exhaled slowly.

"I would say that I still prefer solitude, or the company of a select few," Halsin said, smiling with his eyes as he glanced at Astarion; creating a genuine smile had become more challenging. "So when I met Thaniel, it overjoyed me to have a companion with whom I could roam the wilds. We spent many spring days playing in cool creeks and many winter evenings sharing ghost stories around a campfire."

Halsin blinked quickly, willing away the moisture at the corners of his eyes. "But as the seasons passed, and as I grew older and wiser, I realized that Thaniel was not just a boy; he was the spirit of the land. He remained the same while I grew older, and I realized he required protection."

The wine bottle gurgled as Astarion poured himself a small serving into his glass. "And now your path to becoming an Arch Druid becomes clear," he said, raising the glass in a lighthearted toast. Halsin raised the empty glass to meet Astarion’s with a ting.

"You are correct. Thaniel. He… shaped me into the person I am today. And one hundred years ago in this very place..." Halsin's words broke off. He chewed on his bottom lip before he spoke again. "It is my greatest failure, not being able to save him from this curse. One that I cannot abide."

Astarion sat beside the druid, swirling his glass from time to time before taking a sip. After a few minutes, it was empty again. The men sat in silence, facing the broken valley below. Again, the quiet was unnerving, interrupted only by Gale's snoring and the occasional shriek from the shadows. Halsin dug his fingers into the dirt, eager to hear something else, anything.

Then, a gurgle erupted from Astarion's slender stomach. Color rushed to the pale elf’s cheeks, and the tips of his pointed ears turned red. His eyes widened, and his eyebrows raised as he met Halsin’s stare.

The druid couldn’t hold back his chuckle. “Astarion, you could have just said you were hungry,” Halsin said, tilting his head to the side. He then nodded toward the inside of his tent, his braids falling around his ears. The large druid did not bother to stand, but crawled the few feet to lie on his bedroll.

The vampire stared after him, with round eyes and an uncertain expression. “I - well. If you insist. Next time I will,” Astarion said, setting his wineglass aside. He stood slowly, bent over, before ducking inside the tent to kneel beside Halsin’s neck.

Halsin rolled his head to the side.

“Go ahead, Astarion, I am ready,” said the druid with a nod of his chin. He stared at the wall, his jaw set to prepare for the sharp pain. He was glad to offer this to Astarion, who would otherwise surely starve in this cursed land. I wonder how Thaniel fares wherever he is. Is he hungry? Is he safe? Is he… alive? Halsin’s mind drifted out of the tent flap, and into the darkened lands outside.

Astarion’s hands seemed to float in the air above the druid’s body, as though he were a marionette held up by strings. “I- yes. Thank you,” the vampire stammered, before lowering his mouth to Halsin’s neck.

Halsin started at the sensation of cool wetness on his jugular. He forced a smile for Astarion, just in case he looked over, before the druid allowed his thoughts to wander again.

The shadow curse brought an icy coldness, so frigid that temperature ceased to be felt; not unlike the cold-turned-to-numbness that occurred when being bitten by a vampire.

Astarion raised his mouth and bit into Halsin’s neck. The ice now coursed through Halsin’s veins, and he squinted his eyes at the sensation. He felt the numbness radiate from Astarion’s bite and the coolness of the pale elf’s tongue on Halsin’s warm skin. It made the druid shiver, a feeling he hadn't experienced since he first allowed Astarion to feed. He realized the shiver was partly from longing; but of a different form. Halsin longed for the desire he had for Astarion during their past feedings. In this moment, he could feel nothing except a sense of loss.

Astarion cleared his throat and dabbed at the corner of his mouth with his pinky finger. “Er, thank you Halsin. I… appreciate your kindness,” the pale elf said.

Halsin felt the vampire’s cool gaze sweeping across his features. “Of course, Astarion,” he said, giving the smaller elf’s hand a squeeze.

The vampire didn't return the squeeze; he allowed Halsin to hold his hand as his pale head tilted. Halsin met his gaze with another forced smile. His eyelids felt as heavy as his heart in this place. Astarion nodded, his lips pressed together, and lowered his gaze to the ground as he left Halsin’s tent.

Halsin rolled in his bedroll the rest of the night, with his only tent-mate being raw, angry restlessness. It lolled tauntingly about his rumpled bedroll, heavy with desire and the faint aroma of rosemary and bergamot.

*****

The adventurers began their journey in the morning, once again at a loss for the actual time of day amidst the curse's darkness. The disrupted sleep patterns wrecked their energy levels, compounded by the general malaise of walking in such an eerie landscape and the shades lurking beyond the reach of their lights. It left each adventurer frustrated and eager to reach Moonrise Towers, in hopes of finding some answers.

Just a few hours into their tedious hike, commands echoed through the twisted and broken landscape, reaching Astarion and his companions. It sent everyone's heart, except for Astarion's, into a jolting pace. The shouts had been in Common, from humanoids untainted by the curse—a glimmer of hope.

Several in the party nearly dropped their torches in their rush to find the fray, even though seeing just down the pathway was as challenging as peering around a 90-degree corner. After running for several minutes, they stumbled upon the battle.

Astarion had never witnessed such a peculiar gathering of fighters; however, he had read about them. A magnificent and terrifying beast called a drider—a twisted drow-spider hybrid—swung a longsword at the group of humanoids. In his other hand was an intensely bright lantern, which jingled with every swing of his blade. Around his eight legs darted a hyena and several goblins, hollering chants that included the word "Absolute."

“Cultists!” Halsin said, his eye color shifting from honey hazel to molten gold. They glowed with bloodlust, shaking Astarion's nerves when he gazed into them for too long. “Karlach, Lae’zel, with me,” Halsin ordered in a half-growl as his massive back curved upward. “Wyll, Gale, control the bugbear with whatever you have. Shadowheart, I require your shield.” Halsin fell forward, his hands meeting the dirt with such force that dust flew up into the party’s faces. “Astarion, let loose upon them.” In a blaze of gold, Halsin transformed into an enormous cave bear, twice the size of the already sizable wood elf.

Astarion climbed to high ground on a rock outcropping above the slanted pathway, nocking an arrow in his short-bow. What is he planning? Thought the vampire, his lip curled upward. He’s seen us fight; he knows we excel in stealth. What is he doing? Astarion didn't need to breathe, but he did so to maintain a sense of normalcy. In battle, he held his breath to ensure his arrow would find its mark. The pale elf took aim.

Along a ridge opposite him, Shadowheart and Gale climbed, preparing to cast spells. Lae’zel and Karlach each downed an elixir of strength and turned towards the battle. The gigantic cave bear, charging headlong at the half-dozen cultists, nearly knocked them off their feet. Shadowheart dropped her arms in frustration; Halsin was out of range of her spell.

With a tremendous roar, Halsin collided with the drider, knocking it from its spindly legs. The arachnoid creature screeched in anger, and slammed his lantern into the muzzle of the bear, as well as the head of one of its goblin allies. A flurry of arrows erupted from the group of humanoids standing on the roof of a dilapidated building. Astarion loosed his arrow, laced with paralytic poison, and watched as it struck the drider’s sturdy carapace but failed to penetrate.

“Hells below,” the vampire cursed, leaving his elevated position to employ his daggers instead. He stalked the periphery, minding to stay within the safety of light, but kept enough distance from the swinging swords. Does Halsin think he’s the leader since we’re in these lands? Bullheaded oaf! Astarion seethed, sneaking behind a goblin and slitting its throat. He let it fall to the ground with a thud, not even bothering to check its pockets. He maintained visual contact with Halsin, who had galloped off to take another charge at the drider.

The spellcasters climbed from their high ground to be within range, nodding at their new allies as they joined them in the crumbling building. More arrows loosed from their allies’ bows, felling nearly all foes. Lae’zel and Karlach met the goblin and bugbear with their blades, dispatching them quickly.

The cave bear charged the drider, only to crumple at its legs as the drider’s blade fell between the druid’s shoulder blades. Halsin’s agonized roar, as well as the drider’s maniacal cackle, echoed between the cliff sides.

Astarion surged behind the drider, his anguished scream erupting as he leaped onto the drider's thorax and drove both daggers deep into its back. One dagger slid between the ribs, piercing a lung, while the other struck either the spleen or intestine,. He pulled it to the side to open the wound further. That godsdamned reckless fool.

“Halsin, get up godsdamn you!” Astarion shouted, jumping to the ground as the drider fell. He kneeled beside the Arch Druid, who had reverted to his large elven form. The wound between Halsin's shoulder blades oozed acrid pus—poison. The large elf groaned and shifted slightly; he still had life in him.

Astarion's hands shook as he rummaged through his belt for a healing potion, antidote, or anything. He could hear the clang of Shadowheart's armor as she rushed to their aid. He found a basic healing potion, which hardly healed a burn, let alone a festering wound. The vampire tried to roll the large elf to his side, groaning with the effort of Halsin’s weight and his own trembling fingers. He opened the druid’s mouth and carefully dripped the potion onto his tongue.

The vampire's vision blurred, his focus solely on ensuring Halsin's kept breathing. Astarion only noticed Shadowheart's arrival when he saw a greenish glow enveloping the druid. It was Cure Wounds, a spell he recognized from its frequent use on Lae’zel. Shadowheart cast lesser restoration, and the green pus between the druid's shoulders seemed to dry up as his wound knitted closed.

“Thank you,” Halsin wheezed, sitting up slowly. “Once again, I owe my life to you.” He held out his hand to Shadowheart and firmly gripped her delicate fingers. Astarion scowled beside him, arms crossed. The druid turned to face him.

“And thank you for stabilizing me, Astarion”, Halsin said with a deep bow. Halsin’s eyes were ringed by purple; whether from fatigue or bruises, Astarion couldn’t tell.

“Of course, Halsin,” the vampire replied, offering a curt nod. Does he even care that he could have died? That he didn’t wait for us? For me? Astarion forced air from his lungs in exasperation.

The arch druid did not seem to pick up on Astarion’s unusual lack of verbosity. Instead, he wordlessly stormed toward the bugbear, which had grasped at the dirt. Lae’zel must not have dug her sword in deep enough, this time. The vampire trotted after the druid, with a mix of curiosity and dread building in his stomach as Halsin cast shillelagh, his staff radiating with magic.

The Arch Druid glowered over the bugbear. “What are you doing in these lands?” Halsin said, his voice a desperate, angry bark.

“We will meet the Absolute, praise her!” the cultist said, wheezing against his punctured lung. “Praise Ketheric!”

Halsin took a step back at the name. "Ketheric Thorm is dead and buried. His body locked in the mausoleum,” Halsin said, his words dripping with venom, not unlike the wound he from which he had just been healed.

“Not anymore…” wheezed the bugbear. His gleeful cackle sounded more like a rattle, and he coughed blood as he spoke. “He has risen, he is immortal. Praise Ketheri-” The crunch of Halsin’s shillelagh into the cultist’s eye socket cut his words short.

“Ketheric Thorm is dead,” Halsin repeated. He twisted the staff as if it were inside Ketheric, instead of the bugbear.

Astarion was not sure which turned his stomach more; the squelch of the brain matter, or the transformation of Halsin into someone unrecognizable.

******

Their newfound allies from the battle turned out to be the Harpers. How history repeats itself, Halsin had thought with a frown, although let us hope not completely. After the battle, they had parted ways, but with a newfound hope. Within one more day's travel were the Last Light Inn and the rest of the Harper forces.

Despite the good news, the mood of the campsite took on a somber tone. The battle did not go as smoothly as it should have; they had used their valuable potions and energy for healing. To make matters worse, provisions were low, and Gale prepared the most basic of gruel stews. The party broke bread together around the fire.

Gale sat near Astarion, the wizard having noticed the vampire's foul mood and hoping to lift his spirits, even if it meant becoming the butt of a joke. Astarion scowled at the soup boiling over the campfire.

“Well, thank you again for cooking Gale. But I’m thankful for once to not have to eat, either,” said Astarion. His voice and his half-hearted joke fell flat. The vampire leaned on his knees, his brows furrowed as he stared at Halsin. Scratch sat at Shadowheart's side, his head resting on her feet, whimpering every time a shriek echoed from the darkness. Karlach stood and squeaked his ball to raise his spirits before stepping away to play fetch. A small smile crossed Lae’zel’s face at Scratch’s happy bark, and she finished her stew.

Wyll, seated near Gale, spoke first. “So, Halsin. You’re very familiar with the Harpers then?” he asked, gesturing with his spoon.

Halsin nodded and leaned towards the fire. His dinner had been plums he’d stocked away in his pouch. “Indeed. In that battle 100 years ago, they were my closest allies. Jaheira directed their forces in battle; I directed the forces of the Emerald Grove under my predecessor.”

Astarion sat up with his hands on his knees. “Oh did you, Halsin?” he snapped, tilting his head back and glaring at Halsin through half-lidded eyes. “I’m surprised you were content with playing second fiddle, seeing as how you barked orders at us during the battle.”

The druid noticed that Karlach, Gale, and Wyll shot the vampire a harsh look. Halsin flinched at his words. “I…you are right, Astarion,” he said, with a deep sigh sagging his shoulders. “It was not my place to issue orders. I have not seen this place in a century, and the fury took me at the moment.”

Shadowheart shook her head and glanced at the druid, worry on her face if not on her lips. Lae’zel rolled her eyes, a small “tsk’va” escaping her. Astarion crossed his arms, gripping his own skin with his fingertips. The firelight danced in his ruby eyes; it made his anger seem more intense.

“Oh, you don’t have to tell me that, Halsin. Your loss of control was quite clear as you charged in alone to get yourself killed,” Astarion said. His fangs were nearly bared under his plump top lip. Gale gripped the vampire's knee in response to his words. Halsin’s sensitive hearing picked up his whisper of “Enough, Astarion”.

Halsin’s chest felt gripped by a tangle of vines at the vampire’s anger. He knew Astarion was not wrong; he knew he had been foolish. He was repeating history in his own actions. The large elf shook his head slowly and placed his elbows on his knees. His braids fell into his face.

“That was foolhardy of me, to not wait. Your words are harsh, but accurate,” Halsin said, nodding slightly. “I truly do not enjoy leading battles. Leading… anything, in fact. It is a terrible burden.”

Wyll tilted his head in Halsin’s direction. “But you were the leader of the Emerald Grove, before handing it off to join us,” he said. The warlock’s gentle face was picture-perfect confusion.

Halsin sat up straighter. “That is correct. But that was not my choice. In the battle for the soul of these lands, I was second in command. After we defeated Ketheric, we thought we had won,” the Arch Druid said. “But not long after we sealed him away in his tomb, the shadow curse took hold. No one had seen the likes of it before. No one knew how to react. Then it claimed all those within its reach. Those who had survived the battles now fell to the shadows. The Archdruid, my predecessor… was seized by the curse. I couldn't save him; there was no time. I had to lead the survivors to safety,” Halsin continued. “That was my first day as Archdruid. An inauspicious beginning.”

The party listened in silence. Astarion’s expression softened slightly. He knew this story already; from reading Halsin’s diary.

Halsin went on, "But imagine if I had been faster, bolder, better. Lives would have been saved. More than I care to count. Including that of Thaniel.”

The party was silent; in surprise, or in respect, Halsin wasn’t sure. But he appreciated the silence all the same; it gave an excuse to end supper and depart. “Excuse me, my friends, but I must prepare for our travels tomorrow. If you need me, I will be in my tent,” said Halsin, before slipping away.

*********

After Halsin had left, the vampire received a proper scolding from Karlach, Gale and Wyll. The trio was insistent on kindness; they were all bleeding hearts. Couldn't Astarion understand Halsin was hurting? They had pointed out that he was clearly grieving, and we all make mistakes. But their opinions were split: Lae’zel agreed with Astarion; there’s no room for feelings when lives were on the line. Halsin made a foolish decision to give orders, and she was bitter about following them instead of trusting her own judgement. Shadowheart’s skin had rubbed raw from her chafing armor when she had run to heal Halsin. She, too, harbored frustration about his rash actions.

Regardless of their support or dissent, Astarion didn’t need their opinions. They didn’t know Halsin as well as he did. He felt an intense closeness with the druid, even though it had not quite been a fortnight since he’d met Halsin. But what delicious days they had been, the best he'd experienced in centuries, all without having to sell his body for the Arch Druid's time or affection. Moments filled with combat and comaraderie. Adrenaline and arousal. Intimacy and intelligent conversation. Until reaching the shadow-cursed lands.

A few yards away from Halsin’s tent, he shuffled his feet in the dirt. His hands twisted the strings on his tunic and his gaze fixed on the tent as he lost himself in thought. Since they arrived here, Astarion hadn't once felt the druid's calloused hand around his waist, nor received a playful nudge from his bear form. It made Astarion’s stomach churn, and his chest throbbed as if a stake had been driven through it. Has he lost interest in me? He wondered, feeling the stake twist in his heart.

Thaniel wasn't a lover, but Halsin appeared consumed by his obsession with the boy. The rotten feeling inside Astarion grew. He despised it; he wanted to support this noble, sweet fool.The vampire crossed his arms, his fingertips and sharp nails lightly digging into his skin. He wished he could cold-shoulder the druid in pettiness. But after the bloodshed of the day, Astarion was starving.

The campfire’s light cast his shadow against Halsin’s tent wall.

“Halsin? May I enter?” he asked, his tone soft and meek, filled with apology.

“Yes, Astarion, please join me,” Halsin replied from inside the tent.

Astarion’s mouth curved upward slightly. The druid didn't seem to hate him. He ducked inside the tent and shared the smile with Halsin, who had a book open in his cross-legged lap.

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted company or not,” the vampire said, eyes downcast to the ground. He lowered himself to a sit beside Halsin, his nimble fingers playing with the strings on his tunic.

“Your company is always welcome, Astarion,” Halsin rumbled, looking down at the slender vampire at his side. The druid’s expression was softer than Astarion expected.

“Er…well, thank you, for that,” Astarion replied. “Even when I’m just…hungry?” He winced at his own words. The vampire didn’t come only because he was hungry. But if Halsin wasn’t interested in his companionship or affection, he couldn’t admit that he had tucked tail and come begging for anything at all from the druid.

The large elf closed his book gently. “Oh, of course. I am sorry to not have thought about it earlier,” Halsin said, closing his eyes as well. “I feel well enough to offer my blood; Shadowheart is quite the healer, despite her Sharran loyalties.” The large elf reclined on his bedroll.

“Indeed,” Astarion replied flatly, lowering his torso to Halsin's and placing his mouth on the druid's neck. As he fed, he tried all the same tricks from his first feeding: flitting hands over Halsin's torso, his cool breath on the large elf's hot neck. But Halsin only stared at the tent wall; it was like feeding from a living corpse.

Astarion blinked back the moisture from the corners of his eyes and sat up, wiping blood from the corner of hips lips. Halsin was lost to him. Once was an oddity; twice was a pattern. Again, the druid had shown no arousal, no emotion, no reaction besides a grunt of pain.

“Well, thank you for the last supper, darling,” Astarion said, his voice detached and flat. “I suppose we’re done then.” He shuffled on his knees to sit further away from Halsin, his fingernails picking at the seams on his trousers.

The druid roused slowly, as though it took a moment for Astarion's words to sink in, like rain soaking into parched soil. “Last supper?” Halsin asked, his voice low. He shifted to sit on his knees and rubbed his forehead with his thick fingers. “Done with what? What do you mean?

Astarion glanced over his shoulder at the druid; he didn’t want to face the larger elf completely. “Oh, darling don’t play coy. It sounds like you’ll get answers from your Harper friends tomorrow at Last Light,” he said. “Then you’ll be off on your merry way!” The vampire flipped his slender hands in the air.

The druid met his gaze, his honey-hazel eyes scanning Astarion’s face. The vampire felt as though he were being inspected. “Astarion, what are you talking about?” Halsin asked.

“Please, Halsin, stop with the facade,” Astarion said, waving one hand towards the larger elf. “You know your old friends are here, challenging the Absolutists,” The pale elf’s gaze shifted to his knees; if he looked any longer at Halsin, the mist in his eyes would turn to tears. “You’re obviously closer to the idea of them than to us,” Astarion’s tunic became tight around his shoulders as he rounded them, bending into himself defensively.

He heard the rustle of Halsin’s movement on the bedroll. “Astarion,” the druid said softly, “Have you lost your senses?” He was too gentle. It hurt, this feigned bit of care, and it made the abscess in Astarion’s chest worsen.

“No, I certainly haven’t, but you have!” said the vampire. He could feel the color rising to his cheeks; Halsin’s fresh blood circulated within him. Astarion shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut. “Over this Thaniel boy. Over this curse. You’ve less self-control than a beast!”

Halsin rose to his knees, his large form blocking the candlelight within the tent. He cast a shadow on Astarion. “Do not compare me to a beast, Astarion,” the druid replied, his voice almost a growl. Astarion felt the druid's forceful exhale on his pale skin. Halsin sat back on his haunches. “People see me in battle, or see my size and don’t think I can get hurt.. or have feelings.”

Astarion felt his eyes widen, and the moisture overflowed. Cool tears streamed down his porcelain cheeks. “I.. am sorry, Halsin,” he said so softly it was almost inaudible. “I am aware you can get hurt. Too aware.” The vampire’s voice sharpened, and he met Halsin’s eyes. The druid’s thick brows knit together upon seeing Astarion’s tears. “But today, it appeared as though you had forgotten that. You’re so willing to sacrifice yourself that you don’t see that you don’t have to.”

Halsin seemed to deflate at Astarion’s words like a drinking bladder emptying its contents. “I…must not lose focus until everything is put right. I’ve wasted too much time already - and nature has suffered.” He moved closer to Astarion and placed his broad hand on the vampire’s knee. Astarion chose not to react to his touch; he had to focus on fighting back his tears.

A bitter laugh escaped his lips, which startled Halsin. “Oh darling, I didn’t peg you as self-centered, but here you are, making this about yourself,” Astarion said, seething as more tears streamed down his cheeks. He met Halsin’s fragile gaze with ferocity. “Do you think that one person could have stopped the goddess Shar? Really?” He gestured forcefully toward the open flap of the tent while maintaining his accusatory stare at Halsin.

The druid cast his gaze to the shadows outside the tent. His expression shifted several times as they sat in silence. Astarion could only assume the first was offense; but his last expression seemed to be understanding.

Halsin's hand remained on the vampire's knee, gripping snugly, his wide thumb rubbing gentle circles on Astarion's kneecap. “There was no one else to blame,” Halsin said finally, breaking the silence. “And, if I centered my rage at myself, I could not lash out at others in anguish. I could cage the bear and let it wound itself against the bars…”

Astarion's fingers shook as he gently placed his hand on top of Halsin's. “Come now Halsin,” he said, letting go of the pet name, “You’re older even than me. You know as well as I do that the world is cruel more often than not. You helped me understand that being cruel to oneself won't improve matters.” Astarion meant every word; Halsin's kindness and affection had been a soothing balm for his anxieties, keeping him from seeking affection through means he'd rather avoid.

Halsin met Astarion’s gaze and raised his hand to the vampire’s cheek. His large thumb wiped away the cool tears. “You possess more wisdom than you give yourself credit for, Astarion,” he said, tilting his head as he smiled. A deep exhale escaped the druid's lips, and the sigh ruffled Astarion's curls. "I offer you my apologies."

Astarion momentarily forgot himself, savoring the warmth of Halsin's palm as he leaned into it. The touch provided a brief reprieve from the gnawing pain of no longer occupying a special place in the druid's heart. After a moment of allowing himself happiness, the pale elf pulled his face away from Halsin’s gentle hold. “I.. appreciate that darling,” he said, an airy laugh escaping his lips. “Because, foolish as I am, I'm still here with you... despite your loss of interest.” He lifted his wine-red gaze to meet Halsin's, searching for any hint of intent in the subtle expressions that played across the druid's face. What he found was utter confusion.

“Dear heart, what are you talking about,” Halsin asked, his hand falling from Astarion's cheek to his pale, slender neck. His thumb traced the vampire's bite scars with tenderness.

"Oh, please," Astarion began, his hands gesturing at himself with a hint of flippancy. "Just acknowledge that I'm just a pretty distraction to pass the time whilst our ‘fates are aligned’.” Cool tears welled up in his eyes once more, then ran down his cheeks again, like raindrops sliding off a marble sculpture. They sparkled in the gentle candlelight of Halsin's tent.

Halsin's mouth opened, his tongue twitching as he searched for words that eluded him. “Astarion, I am deeply grateful to Silvanus for allowing our paths to cross, but-” The druid’s words were cut short.

“Yes, yes, and 'it was delightful while it lasted’,” Astarion interjected, his head jerking to the side as tears cascaded down his cheeks, dripping onto Halsin's calloused hand. “But tomorrow you’ll find Thaniel, and then you'll whisk him away into the woods, leaving me to..” Astarion choked back a sob, which soon wracked his shoulders. “I'll be abandoned.”

Before Astarion could react further, he found himself pulled tightly against Halsin's broader form. The druid's thick arms enveloped the vampire's torso, his legs parting as he drew Astarion closer. Astarion was almost entirely ensconced in Halsin's embrace. “My dear Astarion,” Halsin began, his voice a deep, gentle rumble emanating from his chest. “You won't be abandoned. I want to be with you. I-"

Astarion attempted to pull his torso away but found it was a futile effort. He shook his head in frustration. “Don’t fill my head with that nonsense, druid,” he said, sniffling to clear his runny nose. “Not when I have nothing to value; only burdens to carry.” Despite the embarrassment of his tears, he looked into Halsin's kind eyes. He needed to know for certain what Halsin wanted.

“Astarion, that is untrue. You spoke such wisdom moments ago: we can rely on each other whenever our burdens are too great,” Halsin said, his voice almost a whisper. “I want to help you with yours…” The druid squeezed his arms around Astarion, coaxing a whimper from the smaller elf. “I care for you,” Halsin continued. He smiled at the pale elf - a genuine one, radiating from his kind eyes.

Halsin hooked his large finger under Astarion’s chin, to bring the vampire’s gaze to his. “Astarion, my heart does not stir lightly, and yet…it soars just to look upon you. I value you beyond measure. Think of the times you have fought beside me in battle, your prowess with arrow and dagger are invaluable; you have saved my hide more than once. And of the many evenings your company brought great comfort to me when we sit together and read. I treasure your astounding intellect, even when your well-thought arguments are against my own! And I can always depend on you to bring laughter to my lips, as sure as the sun will rise each day. Those moments are all so precious, so valuable to me…I want to never be without you.”

Astarion closed his eyes, allowing more tears to fall. The sensation of soft, warm lips on his cheek made his eyes flutter open. Halsin’s lips traveled up from his cheek, to kiss the corners of Astarion’s eyes; to kiss away the vampire’s tears. To kiss away his fears.

“Regardless of any burdens you have, Astarion,” Halsin continued, saying the vampire's name like a song, like a hymn, a prayer of tenderness and care. The druid's lips met Astarion's other cheek, kissing away his salty tears. “And despite the challenges ahead… Astarion, dear heart. My heart.” The druid paused and placed another kiss on the pale elf’s forehead.

Astarion's plush, pale lips parted, but he had no words, no witty response, no wry observation. He simply gazed at Halsin, his eyes shimmering with renewed hope.

A moment passed; thick with tenderness and desire. And when Halsin pressed his mouth to Astarion’s cool lips, only a surprised, pleased whimper escaped the pale elf. Halsin’s kiss was so very soft. Deliciously tender, as he pulled Astarion’s lower lip between his own. Passionate, as he suckled it gently before pulling away. Halsin did not slip a greedy tongue into Astarion’s mouth, like the lustful kisses the vampire had known over the years.

He placed another chaste kiss on Astarion’s now-reddened lips before pulling his own just far enough away to speak. “I am here with you now, Astarion. And I will always return to your side.”

#astarion/halsin #halsin/astarion #astarion x halsin #halsin x astarion #halstarion #ursaminor #astarion fanficton #halsin fanfiction #astarion fanfic #halsin fanfic #halsin romance #astarion romance #baldurs gate fanfic #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfic #baldurs gate 3 fanfiction

[acillianproblem]

By Eileen Cartter

The Oppenheimer star hit what could be his final red-carpet appearance for the foreseeable future in a sheer Saint Laurent look that would melt the polymer right off a Ken doll’s torso.

Shortly before Cillian Murphy and his fellow Oppenheimer cast members walked off a London red carpet on Thursday in solidarity with SAG-AFTRA joining the WGA on the picket line, the actor debuted his biggest fit yet: a black-pinstriped Saint Laurent suit worn open over a gauzy sheer shirt, with a gold-tipped bolo tie, high-waisted trousers, and a pair of the brand’s Wyatt boots—or, as they’re known ’round these parts, “the Rolex of Chelsea boots.”

Photos of Murphy—whose ice-blue eyes could gouge a diamond—attending various Oppenheimer premieres over the last week have already garnered meme cachet online. But this look—and his facial expressions while wearing it—seemed to signal that he (and his stylist, Rose Forde) had saved the best for last. (The London event could be his final red carpet for a while; per the strike, SAG members cannot participate in press tours or events.) Throughout the truncated promotional run, the actor’s fashion choices have emitted a certain “nuclear Kenergy” in stark contrast with his bubblegum confrères over in Barbie Land, which has become Oppenheimer’s spiritual counter-realm. In other words, Cillian Murphy, who portrays the titular “father of the atomic bomb” J. Robert Oppenheimer in his film, has sort of been dressing like the Anti-Ken.

Where there’s Ryan Gosling, in his pastel cotton-candy-pink and blue-raspberry-hued Gucci suits, there’s also Murphy, in his brooding, pseudo-sexy YSL. (Inside you are two wolves, as they say.) At Oppenheimer’s first premiere in Paris, Murphy arrived in a custom Prada tan shirt and matching short tie—not unlike a World War II-era khaki summer service uniform, making it nearly period-appropriate given Oppenheimer’s milieu—with a dark jacket worn, chicly, with just the top button buttoned. During a rainy photocall in London’s Trafalgar Square, Murphy wore Margiela shades and a staunch Studio Nicholson cardigan over a simple white T-shirt, tucked into another pair of high-waisted trousers; he wore a similar look, this time with a nubby red cardigan and Ray-Bans, the next day.

Though the Barbie vs. Oppenheimer style rivalry held strong, the movies’ respective stars—in another show of solidarity—have expressed nothing but excitement for their fellow thespians’ efforts. “I mean, I’ll be going to see Barbie, 100 percent. I can’t wait to see it,” Murphy told IGN this week. “I think it’s just great for the industry and for audiences that we have two amazing films by amazing filmmakers coming out the same day. Yeah, you can spend the whole day in the cinema—what’s better than that?”

#cillian murphy #oppenheimer #gq magazine #men’s fashion #wga strike #sag strike

[meltthefrozenheart]

Frozen/Frozen 2: Arendelle Past is a giant "What If" of what would've happened if Frozen played by the rules + a catiunary tale for the future of the characters?

In King Agnarr story, all the main characters play the roles of Elsa, Anna, Hans and Kristoff in the first Frozen, and there are a series of foreshadowings for that:

The Northuldra leader is white-haired, head of a population that tends to live isolated (Yelana: "We only trust nature"), yet opens the "gates" of the Enchanted Forest to Arendelle, and we see him riding Nokk (that Elsa now rides);

King Runeard is red-haired, a greate and respected figure whose uniform comprehends gloves (like all the uniforms Hans wears), but also father to a young and naive Prince Agnarr that admires him deeply (like Anna expectation for a prince charming);

Iduna appears as an unexpected figure for Agnarr, part of that mysterious population (which is similar to the Trolls), yet unique, away from the crowds (like Kristoff), spending time on her own with Gale the Wind Spirit (similarly to Sven);

When the plot progresses and we finally see the Truth about Arendelle, not only we see the missing pieces the parallel the events of Frozen, but also how darker and sadder these events were compared to Anna & Elsa main story:

King Runeard schemes against the Northuldra were much greater, planned a long time before the Celebration for the Dam (which recalls Elsa's Coronation), a mastermind that cared only to impose himself over others and distrusted magic, as the most classic of Disney Villains. His actions brought to a battle that enraged the Spirits and brought to the total isolation of the Forest through that magical mist. In comparison, Hans had to constantly adapt himself in order to come closer to eliminate Elsa and become King of Arendelle, if we also consider that his chance was limited by the gates being open for just one day, and then an eternal winter that risked to kill everyone and destroy Arendelle;

Iduna & Prince Agnarr love story truely started when they reached Arendelle, they didn't know each other before that, yet she saved him anyway with Gale's help. Of course, this meant she had to leave her people and culture behind, hiding she was Northuldra, most importantly because Agnarr became King of Arendelle. Similarly, Kristoff chose to help Anna because the eternal winter threatened his ice business, yet him and the princess started slowly to fall in love, and when she got cursed by Elsa's powers, he did all he could to help her, bringing her back to Arendelle so she could be saved by Hans, even if it meant leaving her forever because part of two different worlds;

What strikes me thinking to what happened in the first Frozen is how its outcome is more of an happier resolution thanks to the relationship between Anna & Elsa, uniting those two words through their love, but also showing a better solution:

Instead of anyone dying like the Northuldra leader and King Runeard did, Elsa was saved by Anna and Hans arrested and sent back to the Southern Isles;

Kristoff had a chance with Anna, who accepts the mountain man as he is, without needing to lose his identity to fit in that role;

Arendelle was freed from the eternal winter by Elsa, instead of the unfortunate faith of the Northuldra and Arendellians soldiers trapped inside the Enchanted Forest for 34 years by the magical mist;

Here an important quote used by both Jennifer Lee and Chris Buck:

Jennifer Lee: Frozen I and Frozen II to me are one complete story and that’s really where we stay.

Chris Buck: But most importantly, in the end of the day, Frozen 1 and Frozen 2 work together to form one complete story.

I admit these common statements are quite true when we get to analyze how close and parallel these two movies are, but also how Agnarr & Iduna secrets serve as connection between the real reasons behind the sisters isolation (when they were still alive) and the impact of the story of the first Frozen (started by their death).

But, the way I see it, this narrative concept is even more important if viewed under a different light: it reveales to us a Cautionary Tale whose lessons could be an important base for a Frozen 3. Most importantly, the Frozen 2 ending could be viewed both as a closure and as open to a continuation, even more if we look at how F2 acts as a “direct continuation” of the 1st movie ending (with a three years jump, but still):

Hans is treated as an old memory that should be mocked and forgotten, and yet he constantly comes up, most importantly because he’s still alive compared to King Runeard and still quite an unclear figure during the events of the first movie. Still, being a prince (or, at least, part of a royal family) means clearly being “out of place” in F2, most importantly if we consider that his being the 13th in line of the Southern Isles, a completly different kingdom located the opposite direction of the Enchanted Forest;

Kristoff spent the movie trying to propose, and when he finally succeds and Anna says Yes, she also becomes Queen of Arendelle. When we consider the previous drafts that featured his doubts about living in Arendelle AFTER he proposed, than the change they made, leaving more space and focus on the sisters, seems a door willingly left open, most importantly if we remember how Iduna had to sacrifice even her true self in order to stay in Arendelle with Agnarr; 

Anna is a natural leader, but are we sure she can actually handle the same level of pressure Elsa was used to? Her unique personality is one of her main strenghts, and being “just” Anna always meant being less considered than her sister. Having her future-husband Kristoff, Olaf, Sven and General Mattias on her side is great, but it wouldn’t surprise me if her role became heavier each passing day, like magic was a burden for Elsa;

Elsa has connected herself with the Spirits and Ahtohallan, but what does truely mean being the Fifth Spirit? Most importantly, if we consider, (despite many claims) that Elsa is still a human being gifted with magic, than is she truely undefeatable as it seems? And seeing how exposed the Enchanted Forest is and how easily the Spirits can become dangerous, is it as easy as it seems at first impact?;

#Frozen #Frozen 2 #Frozen 3 #Anna #Elsa #Kristoff #Hans #Queen Anna #Queen Elsa #Prince Hans #Arendelle #Enchanted Forest #Southern Isles #King Runeard #King Agnarr #Queen Iduna #Northuldra #Ahtohallan #Trolls #Gale #Bruni #Nokk #Earth Giants #Olaf #Sven

[ao3feed-rhaenicent]

#ao3feed #fanfic #rhaenicent #alicent hightower #rhaenyra targaryen #hotd

[brookstonalmanac]

Events 4.6 (after 1940)

1941 – World War II: Nazi Germany launches Operation 25 (the invasion of Kingdom of Yugoslavia) and Operation Marita (the invasion of Greece). 1945 – World War II: Sarajevo is liberated from German and Croatian forces by the Yugoslav Partisans. 1945 – World War II: The Battle of Slater's Knoll on Bougainville comes to an end. 1947 – The first Tony Awards are presented for theatrical achievement. 1957 – The flag carrier airline of Greece for decades, Olympic Airways, is founded by Aristotle Onassis following the acquisition of "TAE - Greek National Airlines". 1958 – Capital Airlines Flight 67 crashes into Saginaw Bay near Freeland, Michigan, killing 47. 1965 – Launch of Early Bird, the first commercial communications satellite to be placed in geosynchronous orbit. 1968 – In the downtown district of Richmond, Indiana, a double explosion kills 41 and injures 150. 1968 – Pierre Elliott Trudeau wins the Liberal Party leadership election, and becomes Prime Minister of Canada soon afterward. 1970 – Newhall massacre: Four California Highway Patrol officers are killed in a shootout. 1972 – Vietnam War: Easter Offensive: American forces begin sustained air strikes and naval bombardments. 1973 – Launch of Pioneer 11 spacecraft. 1973 – The American League of Major League Baseball begins using the designated hitter. 1974 – In Brighton, United Kingdom, ABBA wins the 1974 edition of the Eurovision Song Contest with "Waterloo", the first of a joint-record seven Swedish wins. 1984 – Members of Cameroon's Republican Guard unsuccessfully attempt to overthrow the government headed by Paul Biya. 1985 – Sudanese President Gaafar Nimeiry is ousted from power in a coup d'état led by Field Marshal Abdel Rahman Swar al-Dahab. 1992 – The Bosnian War begins. 1994 – The Rwandan genocide begins when the aircraft carrying Rwandan president Juvénal Habyarimana and Burundian president Cyprien Ntaryamira is shot down. 1997 – In Greene County, Tennessee, the Lillelid murders occur. 1998 – Nuclear weapons testing: Pakistan tests medium-range missiles capable of reaching India. 2004 – Rolandas Paksas becomes the first president of Lithuania to be peacefully removed from office by impeachment. 2005 – Kurdish leader Jalal Talabani becomes Iraqi president; Shiite Arab Ibrahim al-Jaafari is named premier the next day. 2008 – The 2008 Egyptian general strike starts led by Egyptian workers later to be adopted by April 6 Youth Movement and Egyptian activists. 2009 – A 6.3 magnitude earthquake strikes near L'Aquila, Italy, killing 307. 2010 – Maoist rebels kill 76 CRPF officers in Dantewada district, India. 2011 – In San Fernando, Tamaulipas, Mexico, over 193 victims of Los Zetas were exhumed from several mass graves. 2012 – Azawad declares itself independent from the Republic of Mali. 2017 – U.S. military launches 59 Tomahawk cruise missiles at an air base in Syria. Russia describes the strikes as an "aggression", adding they significantly damage US-Russia ties. 2018 – A bus carrying the Humboldt Broncos junior ice hockey team collides with a semi-truck in Saskatchewan, Canada, killing 16 people and injuring 13 others.

#Events

[assetmaintenancesolution]

Food and Beverage Industry: Enhancing Presentation with Dry Ice Fog Effects

In the world of food and beverages, presentation is everything. The way a dish or drink is presented can make the difference between an ordinary dining experience and a memorable one. The food and beverage industry continually seeks innovative ways to elevate presentation and create a lasting impression on customers. One such innovation that has been making waves in recent years is the use of Dry ice fog effects. In this blog post, we will explore how the food and beverage industry is enhancing presentation with the mesmerizing and captivating dry ice fog effects.

I. The Magic of Dry Ice Fog

Before we dive into how the food and beverage industry is using dry ice fog effects, let's understand what makes this technique so captivating.

Dry Ice Fog Basics: Dry ice fog is created through the sublimation of solid carbon dioxide (dry ice) when it comes into contact with warm water. This produces a dense, low-lying fog that has a mystical and almost ethereal quality. Its thick, billowing appearance is visually stunning and immediately draws attention.

Temperature Effects: Dry ice fog is extremely cold, which can enhance the sensory experience. The contrast between the icy fog and the warmth of the food or beverage being presented creates an intriguing juxtaposition that engages the senses.

Aesthetic Appeal: The visual impact of dry ice fog is undeniable. It can be used to create a dreamy, mystical atmosphere that captivates the audience. The fog can be colored to match the theme or branding of the event or establishment.

II. Elevating Food Presentation

Dry ice fog effects are taking food presentation to the next level, adding a touch of drama and allure that can transform an ordinary meal into a memorable experience.

Dish Enveloping: Placing dishes in a bed of dry ice fog can create a striking visual effect. The fog envelops the plate, adding an air of mystery to the meal. This is particularly effective for dishes with a smoky, grilled, or charred element.

Chilling Effect: When serving cold dishes, such as seafood platters or sushi, the use of dry ice fog not only adds visual drama but also maintains the freshness of the food. It keeps the dishes at the right temperature while creating a visually stunning display.

Interactive Desserts: Many high-end restaurants are using dry ice fog to create interactive dessert presentations. For example, a dessert placed on a bed of dry ice fog can be garnished with a sauce that, when poured, appears to cascade and flow like a magical waterfall, creating a captivating and delicious spectacle.

III. Enhancing Beverage Presentation

The use of dry ice fog effects is not limited to food; it is also making a significant impact on how beverages are presented.

Smoky Cocktails: Dry ice fog is a staple in the craft cocktail scene. It can be used to create smoky, mysterious cocktails that not only taste incredible but also look like a work of art. The fog adds a theatrical element to the drink presentation, enticing customers to try something new.

Frozen Fantasies: Frozen drinks and cocktails can be enhanced with dry ice fog to create an otherworldly experience. The fog billows out as the drink is poured, creating a sense of anticipation and wonder for the customer.

Sensory Stimulation: The use of dry ice fog engages multiple senses. It's not just about what you taste but also what you see, hear, and even feel. The icy fog envelops the glass, adding a tactile element to the beverage presentation that enhances the overall experience.

IV. Safety Considerations

While dry ice fog effects are undoubtedly captivating, it's important for the food and beverage industry to prioritize safety in their use.

Proper Handling: Those working with dry ice should be trained in its safe handling, storage, and usage. Dry ice should never come into direct contact with food or beverages, as ingestion can cause frostbite.

Ventilation: Adequate ventilation is essential when using dry ice fog. The carbon dioxide gas produced during sublimation should be dispersed to prevent any risk of asphyxiation.

Food Safety: Hygiene and food safety standards should always be maintained. Dry ice fog is a visual enhancement and should not compromise the quality or safety of the food and beverages being served.

The food and beverage industry is all about creating experiences, and dry ice fog effects are proving to be a game-changer in this regard. By adding a touch of magic and mystique to food and beverage presentation, establishments are not only delighting their customers but also setting themselves apart from the competition. However, it is crucial to balance the allure of dry ice fog with safety and hygiene considerations to ensure a positive and unforgettable experience. As this innovative technique continues to evolve, we can expect to see more establishments in the food and beverage industry incorporating dry ice fog effects into their offerings, delighting their customers, and creating a lasting impression. So, the next time you dine out or enjoy a craft cocktail, keep an eye out for the mesmerizing dry ice fog effects that are enhancing the presentation in this dynamic industry.

#food #foodporn #foodie #foodphotography #foodstagram #yummy #foodblogger #foodlover #delicious #follow #like #healthyfood #homemade #dinner #tasty #photooftheday #foodies #restaurant #cooking #lunch #picoftheday #foodpics #instagram #healthy #chef #dry ice

[sciencespies]

NASA Finds Mars Meteor Impacts Left Craters and Shook Planet

https://sciencespies.com/space/nasa-finds-mars-meteor-impacts-left-craters-and-shook-planet/

NASA Finds Mars Meteor Impacts Left Craters and Shook Planet

Scientists thought the InSight spacecraft had recorded some major marsquakes, but with another NASA mission’s help, they found what had really shaken up the red planet.

An animation using data from NASA’s Mars Reconnaissance Orbiter depicting a flyover of an impact crater on Mars that was made on Dec. 24, 2021 by a meteoroid impact. White flecks of water ice surround the crater. Animation by NASA/JPL-Caltech/University of Arizona.

On Christmas Eve last year, Mars shook.

The exquisitely sensitive seismometer on NASA’s InSight lander dutifully recorded the burst of seismic vibrations and then dispatched the data, a gift of science, to Earth the next day.

The InSight scientists were busy celebrating the holidays. When they studied the tremor in detail in early January, it looked different from the more than 1,000 marsquakes that the stationary spacecraft had recorded during its mission to study the insides of the red planet.

“It was clearly a seismic event, and it was a big seismic event,” said Mark Panning, the project scientist for the InSight mission. “And we were excited about it right away.”

In scientific papers published Thursday, scientists using data from two NASA spacecraft reveal that the seismic event was not the cracking of rocks from the internal stresses of the red planet. Instead, it was shock waves emanating from a space rock hitting Mars. The discovery will help scientists better understand what is inside Mars and serves as a reminder that just like Earth, Mars gets whacked by meteors too.

Mars lacks plate tectonics, the sliding of pieces of the crust that shapes the surface of Earth. But marsquakes occur nonetheless, driven by other tectonic stresses like the shrinking and cracking of the red planet’s crust as it cools. The largest marsquakes are modest by Earth standards.

The December shaking registered as among the most powerful that had been recorded, at a magnitude of 4. But it did not occur in the tectonically active region where most of the bigger quakes have been observed.

Most crucially, the Christmas Eve seismic event was the first time that surface waves — vibrations traveling along the outer crust of rocks at the surface of Mars — had been detected. For all of the other marsquakes, InSight’s seismometer had only observed what are known as body waves, vibrations traveling through the planet’s interior.

That the epicenter was not close — more than 2,000 miles from InSight — added to the mystery. That suggested a quake that was not only large but shallow.

“It was difficult to determine why we had surface waves,” said Philippe Lognonné, a professor at the University of Paris who serves as the principal investigator for the seismometer.

Before and after satellite images of the Amazoni Planitia on Mars revealed scars from a recent meteor strike, a seismic event observed by the Mars InSight lander on Dec. 24, 2021.NASA

This remained a mystery until two months later when scientists on a different NASA spacecraft — the Mars Reconnaissance Orbiter — discovered that this seismic event was not a marsquake after all.

It was instead the thunk of a space rock hitting Mars.

It was not a tiny space rock either, estimated at somewhere between 15 and 40 feet in diameter, said Liliya Posiolova, the orbital science operations lead at Malin Space Science Systems in San Diego, which built and operates two of the Mars Reconnaissance Orbiter cameras.

The impact released the energy equivalent to somewhere between 2.5 and 10 kilotons of TNT, Dr. Posiolova said. (The atomic bomb dropped on Hiroshima at the end of World War II was the equivalent of 15 kilotons of TNT.) It left a crater wider than a football field.

During a NASA news conference on Thursday, Ingrid Daubar, a planetary scientist at Brown University who leads InSight’s impact science working group, said a meteor this big enters Earth’s atmosphere about once a year.

“We see those pretty regularly,” Dr. Daubar said. “But because Earth has a thicker atmosphere, asteroids of this size burn up and are generally pretty harmless.”

Scientists including Dr. Panning, Dr. Lognonné, Dr. Posiolova and Dr. Daubar reported the findings in two articles published on Thursday in the journal Science.

When InSight — a shortening of Interior Exploration using Seismic Investigations, Geodesy and Heat Transport — landed in November 2018, scientists expected to observe not only marsquakes but also a few meteor impacts a year. Instead, for more than three years, they saw no meteor strikes at all in the seismic data.

That indicated a shortcoming in their knowledge of the Martian crust and in the computer models simulating expected seismic signals.

Last month, scientists reported identifying four small meteor strikes within a couple hundred miles of InSight based on chirps of sound as rocks entered the Martian atmosphere.

Now, they also know of larger meteor strikes farther away.

In early February, Dr. Posiolova and other scientists were working to take a three-dimensional, stereo image of a part of Mars. They already had one image of the region from a few years ago, and now they were taking a second image from a slightly different angle.

But the second image included a big blotch, a blast zone of disturbed dust radiating outward more than 10 miles that had not been in the first image.

It was so big that it was visible in daily global weather images taken by another camera on the orbiter. “Then we pretty much start marching back from that February image,” said Dr. Posiolova, the lead author of one of the Science papers.

The blotch was present on Dec. 25. But not on Dec. 24.

She said she remembered in the back of her mind that InSight had recorded one of its bigger seismic events on Christmas Eve. “It was like, ‘Could this be it?’” she said.

It was.

Higher-resolution images showed that the meteor carved a crater about 500 feet wide at the center of the blast zone and even kicked up water ice from below the surface. That is the closest to the Martian equator that ice has ever been spotted.

Now that they had definitively identified the seismic signals from a meteor impact, the InSight scientists went back through their data to see if any earlier marsquakes were actually meteor impacts.

Indeed, the shaking of a magnitude-4.2 seismic event three months earlier, on Sept. 18, looked similar. So the orbiter’s cameras looked around that epicenter, located about 4,600 miles from InSight, and spotted a crater there about 426 feet in diameter.

Dr. Posiolova said these were, by far, the two largest new craters that the orbiter has spotted during its 16 years studying Mars. The two impacts are unlikely to be related, Dr. Panning said; that they occurred only a few months apart was lucky, random chance.

Connecting the seismic signals with freshly carved craters offers a sharper view of the planet’s internal structure. Dr. Lognonné likened it to a movie. The Mars Reconnaissance Orbiter provided the images while InSight recordings are the soundtrack.

“You are able to better understand the movie than with just the sound or just the picture,” he said.

Dust covering the InSight lander’s solar panels has reduced its power output. NASA experts say it has four to eight weeks left.NASA

Dr. Lognonné said the current models work well for the crust of Mars, but not as well for the deep mantle. “This is unique data to get more information on the interior of Mars,” he said.

One of the possible surprises is that the surface waves appear to be traveling at roughly the same speed through the crust of the northern hemisphere as the southern hemisphere.

The topography of the northern half of Mars — what may have once been covered by an ocean — is much lower than the southern highlands. But the velocity data suggests the crustal rocks in both hemispheres are of similar density. On Earth, the crust beneath of the oceans is denser than the crust of the continents.

“We are beginning to sort of uncover the mystery of this dichotomy,” said Doyeon Kim, a planetary scientist at the Swiss Federal Institute of Technology in Zurich and the lead author of the Science paper describing the InSight findings.

The Science papers are the latest findings from a busy year for the InSight mission even as the spacecraft is dying because of dust piling up on its solar panels, cutting off its energy supply.

During the NASA news conference, Bruce Banerdt, the InSight mission’s principal investigator, said that the expectation was that the spacecraft would fall silent in the next four to eight weeks. “That’s a sad thing to contemplate,” he said.

A regional dust storm in the southern hemisphere did not directly pass over InSight, but it did kick up more dust into the atmosphere that eventually settled on the solar panels, further reducing the power output, Dr. Banerdt said.

“We had cut off the seismometer for a few weeks,” he said. “We’re now operating the seismometer again, only one day out of four at this point to conserve our power. But even at that relatively small amount of use, the batteries are still slowly being depleted.”

In another paper published in the journal Nature Astronomy on Thursday, scientists used InSight’s seismic data to study Cerberus Fossae, a highly fractured, 750-mile-long region where most of the seismic rumblings of Mars originate.

Heat from magma from a volcanic region to the west is heating the crust there, said Simon C. Stähler, a seismologist also at the Swiss Federal Institute of Technology and lead author of the Nature Astronomy paper.

“You are basically causing this weakening, this local weakening, which allows quakes to happen,” he said.

The InSight scientists are also studying a magnitude-4.7 marsquake in May, the largest detected during the mission. That one appears to be an actual marsquake, because no crater has been seen near the epicenter, which lies close to Cerberus Fossae.

Once InSight shuts down, there again will not be any seismometers operating elsewhere in the solar system. But a spare seismometer built for InSight is being modified to be sent to the far side of the moon in a few years, and NASA’s Dragonfly mission to Titan, the largest moon of Saturn, will also carry a seismometer.

“Planetary seismology is an ongoing field,” Dr. Panning said.

#Space

#Space

[trigonsdottir]

Dawn of New Valyria @Ao3

An AU where Jon and Dany are rulers of New Valyria. A brand new empire that spans across Essos. After the Long Night, Daenerys releases her claim on Westeros and the 7 Kingdoms are all independent. Dany keeps the Crownlands and names the city of Kings Landing as the Capitol of her new empire.

Dany and Jon get married and have babies. Drogon also starts laying clutches of eggs. This series is basically a telling of events of Jon and Dany establishing New Valyria and brining magic further into the world again.

Written in the format/pov of a Scribe, like the "Fire and Blood" book by GRRM.

Dawn of New Valyria - Table of Contents

Section I: The Seeds of Spring

Section II: Blooms of Summer

Part i - The New Triarchy

Part ii - The Tyroshi Provocation

Part iii - TBD

Preview: In the wake of Lightbringer, the Darkness was destroyed. Queen Daenerys bathed the Great Other in Dragonflame and in one swift strike, Jon Snow pierced his black heart. Thus, the Cold was sundered and our saviors brought forth the New Dawn.

Afterward, Westeros began a time of renewal and peace. With the threat of the Great Other extinguished, Queen Daenerys felt the need for a conquered Westeros was no longer necessary. Aegon the Conqueror’s Song of Ice and Fire had been fulfilled. The 7 Kingdoms were independent once more. New laws and pacts were forged to uphold peace between realms. Many noble Houses fell to the Cold and others rose in their place. Ancient blood-feuds were forgotten and the previous generation made way for the new. A Great Spring that would bring a Summer Without End.

#daenerys targaryen #jon snow #ao3 asoiaf #house of the dragon #house targaryen #ao3 #mah stuff and thangs

[bumpscosity]

kys

Star Tours – The Adventures Continue is an attraction located at Disney's Hollywood Studios, Disneyland, Tokyo Disneyland, and Disneyland Paris. Set in the Star Wars universe, Star Tours – The Adventures Continue takes passengers on a turbulent trip across the galaxy, as droids C-3PO and R2-D2 attempt to safely return a spy to the Rebel Alliance.

The Adventures Continue features locations and characters from Episode I – The Phantom Menace through Episode IX – The Rise of Skywalker, unlike its predecessor, which mostly took place after the events of the original trilogy (Episode IV – A New Hope through Episode VI – Return of the Jedi). The attraction opened on May 20, 2011, at Disney's Hollywood Studios, on May 20, 2011, at Disneyland, on May 7, 2013, at Tokyo Disneyland, and on March 26, 2017, at Disneyland Paris.

In 1998, Disney began planning to upgrade Star Tours as part of the release of the upcoming 1999 film Star Wars: Episode I – The Phantom Menace, the first film of the new prequel trilogy. There would be new flights, with passengers going to the Boonta Eve Classic Podrace on Tatooine. Captain Rex would still be a part of the new version and the droids in the queue line would be working on engines and podrace components. Plus, this version would be in 3D, with glasses resembling Anakin Skywalker's goggles. However, there was a big situation. Changing the story to focus on Episode I would make the attraction outdated fast, as two new upcoming films would feature new characters and locations. Officials chose to wait until 2003 when production began on Revenge of the Sith before remodeling Star Tours.

In April 2005, at Star Wars Celebration III at the Indiana Convention Center in Indianapolis, creator George Lucas confirmed that a Star Tours II was in production. In May 2009, /Film reported that filming for the new version of Star Tours was underway in West Hollywood, California.

During pre-production, one of the locations that Imagineers wanted guests to visit was the ice planet of Hoth while it was under siege by Imperial walkers. However, the idea was quickly scrapped because it would interfere with the attraction's placement in the Star Wars timeline. According to Imagineer Jason Surrell, after the Hoth battle idea was replaced with an encounter with the planet's native fauna (e.g. tauntauns and wampas), the concept was presented to George Lucas. Lucas, although liking the idea, requested that the battle scene be used instead, even if it meant disrupting the series' canon. Lucas offered the possibility that there was perhaps an earlier scuffle between Rebel and Imperial forces on the planet before the events in Episode V – The Empire Strikes Back unfolded and that they "later decided to build a base there figuring the Empire wouldn't think the rebels would return to that same location." The Kashyyyk sequence was suggested by John Lasseter. Industrial Light & Magic was responsible for the extensive computer-generated imagery seen throughout the attraction.

At the 2009 D23 Expo in Anaheim, Walt Disney Imagineering announced that Star Tours at Disneyland and Disney's Hollywood Studios would be closed in October 2010 for total renovation and would reopen in May and June 2011 as Star Tours – The Adventures Continue. The updated ride system would consist of high-definition video, a Dolby 3D high-definition screen, an improved motion simulator, as well as several other newly added special effects. A short teaser trailer was shown at the expo featuring a podracing scene similar to that from Episode I – The Phantom Menace. An accompanying teaser picture depicted a red-colored "StarSpeeder 1000" spacecraft.

In May 2010, Disney announced exact dates for the closure of Star Tours at both parks, both earlier than the originally announced October 2010 date. Star Tours closed on July 27 at Disneyland and on September 7 at Disney's Hollywood Studios.

On June 11, 2010, at the "What's Next?" presentation, Disney announced that the re-imagined attraction would take place between Revenge of the Sith and Star Wars – Episode IV: A New Hope and would be named Star Tours – The Adventures Continue. They also premiered an image showcasing the StarSpeeder 1000 flying through Coruscant.

On August 12, during Celebration V, Disney showed a preview 'commercial' of what guests may expect to see, including visits to Endor, Bespin, and Alderaan.

By September 24, two new characters were revealed for Star Tours – The Adventures Continue. The first one was Ace, the new pilot, and the second one was the Aly San San spokesdroid, voiced by Allison Janney. During D23's "Destination D" event, Disneyland Resort President George Kalogridis stated that the new ride would feature 54 possible different experiences.

On October 26, Tom Fitzgerald, Executive VP and Senior Creative Executive of Walt Disney Imagineering, stated that while "Ace" was supposed to be the pilot of the StarSpeeder 1000s, by the time riders actually take off, the pilot would be C-3PO. Fitzgerald also mentioned that Captain Rex, the former Star Tours pilot (but within the series' timeline, the future pilot), would also make an appearance somewhere on the new version of the attraction. Anthony Daniels, who played C-3PO in all the Star Wars films, returned to portray the character in three mediums; live-action suit, motion capture, and Audio-Animatronic voice.

Fitzgerald revealed on February 11, 2011, that more characters would be encountered on the ride, including Darth Vader, Boba Fett, Imperial Stormtroopers, "Jumptroopers", Admiral Ackbar, Yoda, Princess Leia, and Chewbacca. He confirmed on April 1, locations that guests could visit on the new attraction. Destinations include Tatooine, Coruscant, Hoth, Naboo, Kashyyyk, and the Death Star as it orbits Geonosis.

The attraction in Orlando began soft openings on May 14, with the official opening at midnight on May 20, 2011. The attraction in Anaheim began soft openings on May 20, with the official opening in the morning of June 3, 2011. Tokyo Disneyland's Star Tours attraction closed on April 2, 2012, and reopened as the revamped attraction on May 7, 2013. Disneyland Paris' Star Tours attraction was the final incarnation to change; it closed on March 16, 2016, and reopened as The Adventures Continue on March 26, 2017.

In 2012, Star Tours – The Adventures Continue was awarded as the most "Outstanding Attraction Refresh" by the Themed Entertainment Association.

At the 2015 D23 Expo, it was announced that a desert planet called Jakku from The Force Awakens would be added to the attraction. The new adventure became available beginning November 16, 2015. The mineral planet Crait from The Last Jedi and Batuu, the remote outpost forest and mountain planet from Star Wars: Galaxy's Edge, were added to the attraction on November 17, 2017. The ocean moon Kef Bir from The Rise of Skywalker was added to the ride on December 20, 2019, the film's release date.

In January 2020, the Disneyland location received a single rider line due to heavy crowds.

The exteriors of all four Star Tours attractions are different in their respective parks. The attraction in Florida is inspired by an Ewok village on the forest moon of Endor, whereas the California, Japan, and France versions are modeled after a Tomorrowland-esque space port.

According to the opening crawl that preceded the attraction's inaugural opening; after the Dark Times began, Captain Antilles had dispatched C-3PO and R2-D2, the series' protagonist droids who were placed in the custody of Antilles by order of Bail Organa near the end of Revenge of the Sith, to assist in the inauguration of the spaceline. The seemingly close relationship between the Rebel Alliance and the Star Tours agency, caused the Galactic Empire to believe that both entities were in a partnership, and thus has monitored the agency's actions over the years.

Similar to the functionality of the previous Star Tours attraction, The Adventures Continue places guests in the role of space tourists en route to a predetermined destination. The queue is designed to resemble a spaceport terminal: posters advertise voyages to different planets, and a large LCD screen informs riders of flight statuses, planetary weather forecasts, and advertisements promoting the benefits of booking flights with Star Tours. The screen displays information in spoken basic language and Aurebesh. The queue is populated with Audio-Animatronic characters, including C-3PO, R2-D2, and two Mon Calamari officers, that interact with one another and to guests. Entering the cargo bay, Captain Rex from the original attraction can be found, who in accordance with the timeline has not been used yet, and is therefore being sent back to a factory as defective. He occasionally has a power surge and delivers a line from the original attraction. Two G2 droids interact with guests as they conduct their tasks. The more outspoken droid processing the passengers' luggage on a scanning system reveals the luggages' contents to the guests waiting in the queue. Many references, gags, and in-jokes relating to Star Wars, Disney, and Pixar films are made via the contents of this luggage. Guests then retrieve their 3-D "flight glasses" and are directed by a flight agent to 4 gates in Disneyland and 6 gates in Disney's Hollywood Studios, Tokyo Disneyland and Disneyland Paris where they wait to board.

Television monitors show C-3PO, who has been assigned to maintenance on the StarSpeeder 1000 that guests are about to board, inadvertently getting trapped in the cockpit after the ship's captain leaves. Following this, Aly San San presents safety instructions to the guests. Once the doors to the StarSpeeder 1000 open, guests enter one of several ride simulators. After the doors close, C-3PO complains to R2-D2 (who is stationed on top of the ship) about the misunderstanding, but is ignored when the StarSpeeder 1000 begins to take flight with C-3PO in it.

#this is the second time that I’ve woken up to an anon telling me to kms in my askbox #be original do something creative #anyways anyone else wanna send asks maybe Stanley parable related or just whatever related #sassy speaks #asks #anon #suicide tw #fr tho I went to bed SUPER late last night and this wasn’t there how pissed did I make you that you sent an ask past like 2 in the morning L #LMAO

[lisinfleur]

Bedtime Secrets

The request:

Author’s Notes | I love sweet requests like this for our sweet prince. He deserves some happiness after all. Universe | Vikings Pairing | Ivar x Reader Info | Viking Age AU, requested by anon for 5CW Ivar II, posted for HTGI Event. Words | 1146 ⁑ Warnings: None

From the beginning, you thought that marriage would be a disaster. Not that he wasn't a blessed man, nor you had anything against his condition - as some would meanly say. But you could see he wasn't exactly planning to get married when your father brought the idea to the table where your fate was sealed beside king Ivar the Boneless from Kattegat.

"A pledge of allegiance and long bond," your father said. What better way to tell a king you trust him than offering him your best and bigger treasure?

Definitely not what you wanted for your life. Like all the other women of your age, you wanted to find somebody to love.

You weren't unaware of your condition: as a landlord's daughter, you knew your marriage would much probably be arranged to grant your people's best life, but you asked the gods many times that your marriage would come to join you to a man that would, at least, allow you to reach his heart.

How would you reach anything inside those cold and sharp blue eyes your father delivered you to?

Your marriage was poorly consummated the night it happened. Ivar was an occupied man. Tired from hanging with the Earls, Kings, and other guests of your marriage - which was absolutely bigger than you ever thought your party would be - he touched you a single time.

Nothing but seal the union the ring on your finger had represented.

But the gods decided to send him a message - or strike him right in the middle of his face: You fell pregnant with a single touch of his body. His seed grew roots in your womb from that single moment the two of you shared and then, you saw it change in his eyes.

He didn't become the most loving of the husbands, but his blues weren't that cold for you anymore.

As your father told you, Ivar was a man of his faith, and the idea of having a marriage visibly blessed by the gods was enough to warm his heart towards you.

You were spoiled and covered with the best through your whole pregnancy. You had servants all over you. Anything would stop to tend for your needs.

You never had really tried to approach your husband, afraid he would reject your feelings or make you feel silly for being so emotional. But his reaction to your pregnancy was changing it into you.

And when you gave birth to a beautiful little girl, your walls were completely crumbled by Ivar's teary eyes.

Watching your husband holding your little girl in his arms was the most tender moment you ever saw in your life. His kisses to her forehead, his words whispered to her ears, every single detail of him crushed the fear of your heart by showing he was so much more than his fame would speak about him.

He was ruthless in battle, but his hands were tender to touch your little girl's blankets. He could be a monster to his enemies, but he was the warm embrace your daughter would sleep so easily in.

Little every day, you discovered your husband was as much a loving man as he was a fierce warrior.

Perhaps your dreams became true before you could really notice.

Perhaps there was a chance for you to reach that man's heart.

Not the ruthless king, nor the fearless warrior, but the loving father you watched sitting beside your little one's crib, telling her stories, waving his hands, and making sounds just to get more giggles from your baby girl.

You'd been attracted by the growls in his voice and your baby's loud giggles. And your eyes watched as he told her stories from the gods, playing with his hands your daughter tried to reach for a while. Then the stories became calmer as the little one laid down, watching Ivar's movements from inside her crib.

Soon, he was whispering a low song. And you watched as your little girl embraced her blanket, falling asleep peacefully at the sound of his voice.

Ivar stayed there for a long while, caressing your little girl's face. His rough fingers marked by swords and daggers were so gentle when touching her face. His face, usually so hard, was so tranquil. And his eyes were placid lakes instead of those sharp blades of ice you remember seeing the first time you've seen each other.

Maybe there was space for you there. Perhaps your fear to approach was keeping you from reaching your dreams in his arms.

You dared.

Your steps entered the room slowly, and you sat beside Ivar, catching his eyes almost immediately.

His gentle touch reached your face. His fingers caressed your chin, sliding as you leaned your face into his warm palm.

"My beautiful wife," he mumbled.

Sweet words you had never heard from him, maybe because you never approached enough to hear him speak.

"You came into my life unwarned. I even thought it was a mistake to bring such a delicate treasure into my mess. But look how silly and wrong I was."

Your eyes found his. To your major surprise, his eyes were full of love, his touches were full of tenderness, and you saw yourself leaning into his arms, laying your head against his chest, feeling as Ivar embraced you warmly.

"You're my gift from the gods. And you brought joy into my life. I couldn't be more grateful."

You lifted your face and gently placed your lips over his, kissing him slowly, receiving a tender answer you never thought you would ever get from him so freely.

Smiling was almost inevitable.

"My loving husband," you mumbled. "I'm the lucky woman the gods chose to be by your side. I'm the one who's grateful over everything."

Your eyes watched his lips curling in a beautiful scene you'd seen so few times since you'd known each other.

Ivar was smiling at you, almost like a shy boy, flattered by your words.

"You're so humble, my queen. And it just makes you shine more in my eyes. Come," he said, getting up and holding you by the hand. "Let us close the hall and retire for this day. I wanna spoil my queen tonight and maybe make our joy even bigger, who knows?"

He was clearly saying he wanted to be with you.

To produce more children, which were the joy of his life.

Your heart filled with happiness, and it was your time to smile at him.

"Then may the gods bless me tonight, husband, so I can bring you more joy than you ever thought you could have."

You would remember to thank the gods for your blessings. Ivar was everything you could ever want and, in the end, your dreams couldn't really show you how good would it be to be loved like you were.

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[yostresswritinggirl]

Antinomy

Part 1; establishing grounds. VIBE

"Do you know the spiritual meaning of 11? What about in numerology? You'll find it quite intriguing, funny even... until it starts making sense." You've witnessed and harnessed the way and days he had grown to be; this fic enumerates the trials of the 11th before he became a Harbinger under your care. From strangers to mentor to friends to love- Childe made a grave mistake, now you’re once again strangers.

Pairing -> Childe x Harbinger!Fem!Reader

Word Count -> 3277

Themes -> Friends to admirers, slow burn, mentor, fluffy, suddenly ANGST

Series -> #Sojourner Specials (600 Followers Event) Part 2

Warning -> Blood and injury, decent? amount

The biblical meaning of number 11 comes from one's understanding that it is associated with things that would be considered imperfect, a disorganization of systems, and the disorder or chaos of things. The 11 carries a vibrational frequency of balance. It represents male and female equality. It contains both sun energy and moon energy simultaneously yet holding them both in perspective separate-ness. Perfect balance.

act i. first sighting

The first you've heard and the first you've seen the likes of him was long before you were anyone important in the organizational structure of the Fatui. You were a simple agent making rounds around Snezhnaya's city borders, nothing more, nothing less.

During these parts by the winter forest of Morepesok where time seems slowed down as the snowflakes flutter without urgency, it reminds you of what home feels like, and you felt more free to delve into a sense of relaxation away from other chatters from your co-workers.

You were ready to lean on a tree and just dissociate from the world of stress you had put yourself into— and then you heard a distant cry, accompanied by the pants and howls of wolves. Your body immediately lunged forward, finding your ankles sinking deep into snow as you trudged through the terrain as fast as you can. A child, a literal child somewhere in the forest getting chased by wolves.

When you've arrived by the scene, you registered a tuff of orange hair almost topple you over as they smack into your body, a startled cry eliciting from them as you throw him behind you in quick succession, your polearm manifesting to throw off the wolves that had locked in on the sight of him, "Go! Get out of here!" You urged at the sound of his silence as you carefully swung the first hit on the lunging wolf, being a tad too late to hit it with the edge's blade only for it to be knocked to the side by the shaft. At the sight of the battle you finally relieved a sigh when you heard him and hope that he knows his way back. But your work was not cut yet, you thought as you realized how the pack of four now encircles you with hungry gazes and drooling jaws.

The moments after that was filled with song and dance as you fought hard to overcome the might of four ferocious beasts, the polearm swiftly twirling in your arms to counter attacks from all sides. You twist your arm behind, lodging the tip of your spear in the throat of the wolf before delivering a kick to the head of another one lunging from the front. You made quick work to disengage your spear from the dead wolf, but the two idle wolves had noticed this as they lunged in coordination.

Now bloodied and bruised, exhausted from fatigue and frostbite, your final wolf to slaughter was inches away from your face. Its jaw had locked around your weapon in muffled growls and you can only keep him there with your arms losing its strength. Your blood sprayed around the battlefield of once white snow as the third wolf's sharp canines had lodged itself around your leg before you killed it through a stab.

You humored yourself with a wry laugh at the thought that it would leave a pretty nasty scar. The amount of blood you lost is already taking its toll at your consciousness and the last thing you saw before you finally succumbed to oncoming death was the wolf's awaiting maw, and a prickle of ice.

You only wish then that the kid you saved, only a few years younger than you, had left the forest in safety.

act ii. second assignment

Zapolyarny Palace was a magnificent architecture that towered all other manmade structures in the nation of the Cryo Archon. Now you, the most recent addition to the Harbingers roams these hallways regularly with agents following your trail. Lady Columbina, the 10th Fatui Harbinger, wields a peculiar job within the ranks of the organization.

It was years after the incident in Morepesok on which you came out with a nasty scar on your leg, but a proud Cryo Vision stuck to the side of your torso. When you donned it after the Tsaritsa had called for your presence (she must have sensed the bestowal of the elements) and reported your rounds during that mission, the Cryo Archon's piercing gaze had softened in intensities that washed over your whole soul with the warmth you would not expect of her element. Ever since then she had regarded you with attention to spare, your potential and line of work exposed, and had you easily rising up the ranks at the guidance of the 9th. Despite the gruesome and painful trials you had to go through before you can proudly walk on your own.

The informant by your side had handed you a thick folder earlier and you had been pacing around the hallways the whole time you had been investigating the contents. Said agent feebly and awkwardly following you as if expecting you'd walk away or disregard him for his absence. It was stupid from a bystander's perspective, but you were too focused on work to worry about it.

Well, focused, because you were interrupted by the sounds of clashing and sparring by the quadrangle within the Palace. You stopped your pacing and look up to see a batch of agents training with a few skirmishers in routine. A majority of them easily getting body slammed to the dirt floor in martial combat, and some are working on weaponry. But at the very middle is where your eyes linger with a flash of familiarity—

A tussle of orange hair unhidden by the Fatui hood clashes with a giant of a man, weapons and Vision drawn at the sparring. The agent moves with quick succession, and you can see Pulcinella getting overpowered pretty quickly. As expected of his form, of course, but he still bit back with his delusion now equipped. Cheater, you scoffed to yourself, as the orange-head agent still managed his footing to strike consecutively at the bigger man.

You watched on for a little while longer as the orchestration of the match continued. Your observant eyes clearly noticing how the Harbinger could barely leave the area he had been standing on as he was barraged by blades from every direction, fully defensive. The match ended indefinitely when the Harbinger had noticed you, and quickly ended the match as an escape to his obvious downfall. "Halt," his voice reverberated from the sheer authority it brought and the agent stopped only a few centimeters from slicing the gloved hand in front of him, "We have a guest."

"Hardly," you scoffed at the end of your temporary entertainment as you sauntered over to the edge of the veranda, waving your hand dismissively at the training agents that had kneeled to greet you. With this they all went back to their training away from your side to give the privacy of a talk, except for one person. You can feel his intense stare even if it was hidden behind the standard protocol Fatui mask. You wondered if he had recognized you, "Pulcinella." You nodded.

"Columbina, it has been a while," he made a move to swipe the sweat at his forehead and you murmured an affirmation at his statement. It HAS been a while since you had lingered in the Palace, much less the country. As the head of the information brokers department of the Fatui, you're frequently found in missions beyond the headquarters where you soldier your subordinates in field missions. At this thought, you felt conscious at the fact that you still had your dancer outfit on.

To avert your embarrassment you shifted your attention to the agent with a tilt of your head. You swore you saw him gulp as subtly as he can. "This is Ajax," at the mention of his name, he had bowed his head, hand across his chest in greeting. "He has the potential."

Your mouth formed into an 'o' at the mention of the special word, eyes slightly widening at the intonation as you continued to look at Ajax. When he raised his head to meet yours once again, you found yourself averting in newfound fluster. "You mean to tell me..."

"Yes," the way you gingerly placed a hand to quietly hide the redness of your cheek had Ajax amused, the edge of his mask hiding the slight quirk of his lips. "The Assembly ceremony would be called upon soon."

act iii. 3 pm assembly

The 3 PM Assembly comes before the Dusk Convention which is not the current point of the information. You've only been in it once and it was in a different circumstance, yet your nerves still stayed the same, if not more perfectly hidden than the first occasion.

Ajax, now dubbed Tartaglia alias Childe, stood kneeling by the steps of Your Majesty's throne at the information of his ascension to the ranks of the Harbingers. He was the final piece to the puzzle, and his addition to the ranks meant multiple things. The start of the war against the divine, the Tsaritsa worded after Childe has received his Delusion from Pedrelino.

He almost seemed starstrucked- dazed after the chance meeting of finally seeing the great Tsaritsa face to face. You gulped as the words of the first continues upon mention of his new arc of training in honing his skills and exposure to the ways of the Harbingers. Next to you, in silent and slight comfort, Innamorata simply touched elbows with yours without sparing a glance as she stared straight on. You smiled at the gesture.

"During the phase of your training, you shall be commandered by the Harbinger that had come before you. And she will be your last test to show that you had earned your ascension," Childe followed the trail of Pedrelino's sight as he spun to watch the end of the line up of the Harbingers.

A figure layered with multiple chiffon and flowy cloths and yet seemingly underdressed in the winter nation steps on the red carpet of the throne room, a spear polearm manifesting as she twirls her hand to catch it mid-integration, the action suddenly producing a blast of icy wind enough to reach him and make him stumble.

Childe felt the tingle of excitement twitch his fingers at the apparent power difference. When they both finally made eye contact, masks off and irises laid bare, a petrifying glint of amusement lies within them both. The female offers a toothy grin as she lodges the spear's point into the ground, the metal clanging through the room in piercing reverbs.

"Meet Columbina, the 11th Harbinger, your last mentor."

act iv. counting crows

It had been a while, a very long while, since you had gone stationary in a nation. Much less Snezhnaya. While it is home the removal of your olden routine to put yourself in the shoes of a mentor had really been maddening you, more so with the inclusion of your line of work still in operation and a certain someone as your trainee until who knows how long.

Your brows furrowed as you watch the annoying caws of the crows overhead, four of the black birds making symphony as if to rejoice over your repeated victory. Underneath your thin shoe laid a gasping Childe who was just as irked at the piercing interaction.

You had just finished a 'spar' or what you could call an opportunity of ascension. When you explained to the newest addition as to how his true ascension works (which involves beating your mentor in a fair fight) he had been nothing but a thorn on your side with his repeated requests to spar. He was really, really adamant for a fight, something you had come to realize a day after he ascended to your care.

"Shoot them down," you ordered as the man finally got his grips enough to stand once again, his outfit filled with marks of dirt and obvious footprints from your numerous kicks to make him stay back. At the order he shoots you an amused grin, as if to say 'really?' but succumbed when you continued eye contact.

"Master Columbina," Childe started as his bow and arrow materialized. You knew full well just how inefficient he is when it comes to bows compared to other weapons, and you tasked him such challenge to use it more under your supervision, topping his oath to master it already. "Do you know what four crows mean? I'm not really adept with crowology but I'm pretty sure they have significance in numbers."

The first shot fires and kills one. The action had startled the other birds and they scrambled to flap away, but Childe was already materializing three new arrows to fire at once, this quirked your eyebrows in amusement. Something he noticed and smirked at, eyes still focused as he fires his shots- one missed. "Four crows may mean many things," you watched as he desperately chased the crow with a barrage of arrows and you had to stop yourself from laughing at his failed attempts, "It could mean birth of a male newborn, highly unlikely. Aaand, wealth and prosperity, and finally..."

His arrow finally pierced the poor vertebrate, an emphasized sigh of relief escaping his lips as he whips his head to look at you for affirmation that you had seen his victory. You gave an amused yet soft smile, his eyes twinkled in double-layered delight, "New beginnings."

act v. his siblings

Childe had a mentor once, who fuelled the flame of his reckless spirit through countless beatings and repeated dangerous encounters. When he was given an opportunity of once again being under an official mentor, with his newfound lust for battle, he was extremely ecstatic over the idea. But unfortunately, as he walks around with you through the familiar streets of Snezhnaya, it was not all fun and games as he'd expected it to be.

"You look so disappointed for someone who just received one million mora under their name." Appropriate to the occasion, you don now a traditional Snezhnayan winter attire yet with details that alerts everyone of the price of the genuine fur that's stitched on the edges of the lining. It was over the top since you had developed an immunity.

"I didn't expect being mentored to be a killing machine requires knowing about taxation and interest rates," was his childish grumble. Which received a frosty laugh from you. You had reiterated again and again just how powerful money is to a nation just as information, which Pedrelino and you operate in order. Thankfully Childe was ever so smart to pick things up easily (if it was viewed as a challenge) despite his early recruitment into the Fatui that surely would have hindered his education.

You opened your mouth to reiterate over the fact that perhaps his main concern would be in the issue of debt collection when a scream had resounded through the crowd, one of which belongs to someone Childe would recognize, you thought as you observed how he had perked up and looked around. When his eyes settled on a direction, you suddenly realized a crowd of five coming your way, you immediately took a step away as three younger figures latched onto him and started chatting him up like there's no tomorrow.

You hummed to yourself as you watched with hands intertwined behind your back. From what you can hear and gather, they were his siblings, all five crowds with one probably missing. One seemingly older to the 11th yet not donning the same striking orange hair spots you and offers a sorry smile at the inconvenience, observant, you thought as you flashed a polite smile too. He's probably Andrei, the one who's the same age as you, if you remembered his oversharing correctly.

"Big brother, please join us! We haven't seen you for so long, we're preparing a huge feast for mother and father's anniversary, it would be really good if you can attend!" Wow, these children are really good at bargaining. You can already see Childe's resolve crumbling the more they fluttered their eyelashes with such doe eyes.

Whether a plea for help or look for approval, his ocean orbs had found his way to you, begging that you be at least a considerate Harbinger to offer him this once in a lifetime break. You were about to open your mouth (to let him be, of course, you're not the heartless Harbinger everyone had generalized the ranks to be) when suddenly all six pair of eyes had fallen on you. It wasn't the same tantalizing or spine-wracking gaze the Tsaritsa holds, but the attention made you gulp either way.

"Hi," your voice reached a sudden meekness neither you nor Childe expected nor heard before.

And suddenly you found yourself around a table with plentiful dishes scattered all over it, your crowd of five (seven if you count you two) had turned to a staggering, solid 10 as the whole family had forced invited you into their abode to share the meal. Thanks to the nature of your work and training, your social skills commandered any suspicions or questions off easily, and you behaved just like a girlfriend meeting her boyfriend's family for the first time.

Childe watched as you clenched your jaw and offered a hooded, tilted glare when you met eyes. He gulped. That look looked very much like Scaramouche.

act vi. sixth nation

Childe barely knew the world beyond the frosted wasteland, past the outskirts of Snezhnaya. Yet from the stories his father had adopted to him ever since he was able to remember, he views the world outside with a sense of familiarity, longing and relieving satisfaction. It was such a pure look you felt like barfing from the intensity of the innocent aura it held in comparison to your line of work.

His eyes would then land on you where you once again don your master dancer outfit, yet unlike your homeland, this setting matched it better. The sun at Fontaine hits the golden sequins at a certain angle to make it glitter, and the thin white veil that hovers over the back of your hair flutters gently in the soft breeze that comes by. You'd look angelic if you wore more white, he bites back the words when you met his eyes.

His first look at your line of work and his first visitation outside of the nation. And into the land of entertainment. This was your main land of operation and the way you dwelled with the citizens brings about a sense of replicated home at the nostalgia. Many recognized you as a simple entertainer and many of the citizens look upon Childe with intrigue and wonder.

"Based on my network, this would be his last stop," you adjusted the bangles that holds on to the thin cloth that runs over your arm, "Again, we are here to observe and get information, not look for a fight."

"Yes, master." He grumbled flatly but his eyes were wide and wandering the marble walls and statues that littered the nation. He's distracted, just like a true child. "What's the name of that rogue vigilante again? The one that keeps busting down the doors of the Fatui headquarters everywhere."

You hum, hand wrapped around his wrist as you guide his distracted self through the crowd.

"Diluc Ragnvindr, and try to remember it this time please."

To be continued.

Accidentally posted so now it's a freakin two parter.

@zelos-simp @legionqueensav @moaa @dandelion-dreams @snackgod @rxsalinee

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #childe x Reader #genshin impact oneshots #exile.flower #sojourner special #followers special #diluc was here #god i hate myself #why did i accidentally post this #female reader

[hafanforever]

Princess Protection Program

Throughout the two main Frozen films, part of Elsa and Anna’s bond of love is shown with how they desperate they become to protect one another. However, the ways that they protect each other are true polar opposites.

In Frozen, Elsa thinks that to protect Anna, as well as everyone else, she must stay as far away as possible, without any sort of physical contact made between them, especially by Elsa first. But in Frozen II, Anna thinks that to protect Elsa, she must stay by Elsa all the time and never let Elsa out of her sight, while also making as much physical contact with her as possible, even if Anna is always the one to make the first move.

In Frozen, young Elsa demonstrates her way of protection after she accidentally strikes Anna and nearly kills her. Following this, Elsa becomes crippled with fear over the instability of her powers, believing that they are only dangerous and harmful. So she consequently chooses isolation from everyone she loves, including Anna, presuming that being completely isolated would protect them from any further harm her magic could do. As she spends 13 years trying to control her magic with little success, Elsa refuses to have any sort of contact with Anna, especially physical contact, since she fears that she might accidentally harm or kill Anna if another disastrous event occurred.

Once her coronation day arrives, Elsa is not only determined to suppress her powers to protect Anna, but also her people in hoping that they won’t discover she has been keeping such a big secret. After they are accidentally revealed following an argument with Anna, the first thing Elsa does is run away, and she keeps on running once more Arendellians discover her secret.

Although this is an excellent example of showing how running from problems don’t always, if ever, work, Elsa feels she has no other choice. She is unique for having these ice and snow powers, but she doesn’t know anyone else who has them, has answers about them, or can teach her to control them.

Therefore, Elsa doesn’t know any other way to solve her problem except to entirely remove herself from society and live all alone.

When Anna discovers Elsa at her new ice palace, the sisters are briefly happy to see each other. But Elsa rebuffs Anna’s suggestion at mending their bond, saying it is because she is only trying to protect Anna and tells her to stay away for her own safety. Upon Anna saying that Arendelle has become trapped in an eternal winter, Elsa panics and accidentally strikes Anna in the chest. Realizing that she has harmed Anna again, Elsa continues to insist that Anna leave, and when Anna refuses to go without her sister, Elsa resorts to creating Marshmallow in order to forcefully throw Anna out.

Then when Hans captures Elsa at her palace and brings her back to Arendelle, she insists that she must be set free since she is a danger to the kingdom, though she in unable to remove the winter. Not knowing that Hans plans to frame her for treason upon learning that Anna is dying from her frozen heart, Elsa breaks out of the dungeon and tries to flee back to the mountain. She ends up getting caught in the whiteout caused by her increasing fear, and when Hans appears and tells her that she can’t keep running away, Elsa only pleads with him to take care of Anna.

In Frozen II, Elsa still occasionally tries to protect Anna, but this time, Anna is the one with a goal to protect her sister. This is first displayed when Elsa makes up her mind to find the voice calling her by going to the Enchanted Forest. When Anna objects to Elsa going alone, Elsa initially refuses to let Anna come, saying that her powers can protect her, but Anna does not have that advantage. Before they depart, Pabbie tells Anna that he fears Elsa’s powers may not be enough to help her, and Anna vows not to let any harm come to Elsa.

From that point on, Anna remains determined never to let Elsa out of her sight, showing that she feels that she must remain by Elsa’s side at all times in order to protect her. When the group finally reaches the entrance of the Forest and the mist covering it, the sisters take hands and Anna makes Elsa promise that they do their journey together. During another attempt to propose to Anna, Kristoff stumbles over his words, including saying “In case we die...” This causes Anna to panic, and she hurries to find Elsa, saying out loud that she promised she wouldn’t leave her sister’s side. Once she finds Elsa, Anna rushes to her, asking if she’s all right. Soon afterwards, the group is swept up in Gale’s tornado, then she keeps Elsa in her vortex while she drops the rest. Anna shouts to Gale to release Elsa, and then she again makes sure her sister is all right after Elsa stops Gale and makes the ice sculptures.

Shortly after meeting the Northuldra tribe, and Lieutenant Mattias and his soldiers, Bruni appears and sets the Forest ablaze. Elsa rushes to put it out, and Anna follows her, endangering her own life when she starts inhaling and choking on the flames. When Kristoff is riding Sven and calls out Anna’s name upon seeing her in danger, Elsa hears him and sees where her sister is. So she puts out enough flames to create a clear path for Kristoff and Sven. The duo immediately race over and Kristoff pulls Anna up into his arms, then Elsa calls out to him “Get her out of here!”, after which Anna objects and calls back to her sister. (Now this moment shows me that Elsa very much trusts Kristoff to protect Anna and get her to safety whenever she (Elsa) is unable to do it herself.) After Elsa settles and befriends Bruni, she reunites with Anna, and they briefly chastise each other for putting the other person at risk and not being careful.

Later, as the sisters and Olaf continue north, they discover the remains of their parents’ wrecked ship and that they were on their Ahtohallan when they died. In the following scene, the girls’ different ways of protecting each other comes into play. While both realize that Ahtohallan is the next stop on their journey since it holds all the answers about the past (as Iduna told them years ago and sang from “All Is Found”), Anna says that they go to Ahtohallan together...but Elsa disagrees.

Like I said in “Split Decision”, Elsa decides that she must go to Ahtohallan alone, and that Anna cannot come with her because of the risks that would come with both of them crossing the Dark Sea. Anna objects to this, pleading with Elsa to remember their promise to do it together, particularly because of the “All Is Found” lyrics warning that one will drown by going too far into Ahtohallan, and that she wants to make sure Elsa won’t meet that fate. Though they tell each other that they can’t bear to lose one another, and Elsa understands why Anna wants to come, she refuses to change her mind since Anna would be more at risk trying to cross the sea (which, again, alludes to her earlier line that Anna does not have powers to help/protect her). So much like when she created Marshmallow to throw Anna out of the ice palace and stay away from her (Elsa) for her own safety, Elsa again resorts to forcing Anna away to safety by putting her (and Olaf) inside an ice boat creation and making a path on which the boat can slide.

The difference between these moments, though, is that Elsa does not do this out of believing that her powers make her a danger to Anna, but because she fears that Anna would have a greater chance of dying while trying to pass through the Dark Sea. And Elsa is proven right when she herself gets knocked down by the waves, struggles to swim in the rough, choppy waters, and uses her powers to overcome other obstacles. When the Nokk appears, things get more complicated for Elsa when it attempts to drown her, which forces her to use her magic to fight back until it finally calms down.

As I said in the aforementioned analysis, Elsa facing the Nokk while crossing the sea proves that she was correct about why she and Anna could not go together, and what she said before about her powers being able to protect her while the same could not be said for Anna. Elsa would not have been able to take care of herself by working to get past the big waves and fighting the Nokk if she had to do it with Anna, too. Because Anna lacks powers of her own, successfully crossing the Dark Sea and taking on the Nokk at the same time is not something she would have been able to do at all.

Now Elsa and Anna’s methods of protecting each other differs primarily, of course, because Elsa is magical, so it makes the most logical sense for her to protect others by isolating herself from them. Pushing that aside, it is also due to the fact that the two sisters have opposite personalities; therefore, they have opposite ways of displaying protection towards other people.

Like I’ve said before, Elsa is an introvert. She is reserved, closed in, and reluctant to talk about her feelings. She is somewhat antisocial and prefers having more of her own personal space. She is sometimes uncomfortable having intimate physical contact with people unless it is people she loves and to whom she is very close. As an introvert, Elsa is also very independent and individualistic. When she makes up her mind to go to the Forest, find the voice, and restore Arendelle, she wants to do it on her own, not merely because she doesn’t think anyone can help her, but because she wants to achieve what she needs to do and not let anything distract, hinder, or prevent her from doing so. She does not want to worry about being responsible for others in case any danger could occur. This would explain why she initially refuses to let Anna come along, with the argument that Anna doesn’t have her own powers for protection. It’s not that Elsa simply wants Anna to stay behind where they both know it is safe, but she doesn’t yet know what dangers she will have to face. So she did not want Anna tagging along since Anna could cause distractions or slow her (Elsa) down if she got in any danger since Elsa would have to protect her.

On the other hand, Anna is an extrovert. She is very open, expressive, and does not hide her feelings or anything else about herself. She is very gregarious, social, and thrives being in the company of other people. She loves to talk and befriend people, and never hesitates to make physical contact with them, particularly hugs. As an extrovert, Anna also actively depends on people and seeks to help them with their problems. When she makes up her mind to come with Elsa to the Forest, she wants to help because she doesn’t think Elsa should try or will be able to do everything entirely on her own. She doesn’t care, or at least is not afraid, about what dangers the trek will bring because she has proven what kinds she has faced without any magic of her own. While Elsa thinks that Anna coming along would distract her or slow her down from accomplishing her mission, Anna instead thinks that she could help accomplish the mission a lot faster than if Elsa went alone, not to mention they should go together to protect each other from any danger.

Essentially, the way Elsa and Anna protect each other is just how they would want to be protected themselves based on their personality types. Elsa likes to have her own space, so she protects her sister by giving Anna enough space where she can be safe, away from her (Elsa). But Anna likes to be in the presence of people, so she protects Elsa by staying with her as much as possible so she can personally make sure she is with her if danger strikes.

In the end, both girls learn important lessons about how they protect each other and their own personal limits. Although she likes to be independent, Elsa accepts that she can’t do everything on her own, that she does sometimes need help, specifically from Anna. Likewise, although Anna still wants to help people, she accepts that she always can’t always do so by being by their sides, that she needs to give people their space and boundaries, specifically Elsa. They both realize how much they need each other, even if they can’t be together all the time.

Despite being apart for the last part of their journey, Elsa and Anna still resolved the conflict between Arendelle and the Northuldra together, just as Elsa promised they would. 😉😊❤️

#Frozen analyses #Frozen 2 analyses #Disney #Disney Frozen #Disney Frozen 2 #Frozen #Frozen 2 #Elsa #Anna #safety #protection #my stuff #mine

[ao3feed-rhaenicent]

#ao3feed #fanfic #rhaenicent #alicent hightower #rhaenyra targaryen #hotd

[brookstonalmanac]

Events 1.11 (before 1940)

532 – Nika riots in Constantinople: A quarrel between supporters of different chariot teams—the Blues and the Greens—in the Hippodrome escalates into violence. 630 – Conquest of Mecca: The prophet Muhammad and his followers conquer the city, and the Quraysh association of clans surrenders. 930 – Sack of Mecca by the Qarmatians. 1055 – Theodora is crowned empress of the Byzantine Empire. 1158 – Vladislaus II, Duke of Bohemia becomes King of Bohemia. 1569 – First recorded lottery in England. 1654 – Arauco War: A Spanish army is defeated by local Mapuche-Huilliches as it tries to cross Bueno River in Southern Chile. 1759 – The first American life insurance company, the Corporation for Relief of Poor and Distressed Presbyterian Ministers and of the Poor and Distressed Widows and Children of the Presbyterian Ministers (now part of Unum Group), is incorporated in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. 1779 – Ching-Thang Khomba is crowned King of Manipur. 1787 – William Herschel discovers Titania and Oberon, two moons of Uranus. 1805 – The Michigan Territory is created. 1861 – American Civil War: Alabama secedes from the United States. 1863 – American Civil War: The three-day Battle of Arkansas Post concludes as General John McClernand and Admiral David Dixon Porter capture Fort Hindman and secure control over the Arkansas River for the Union. 1863 – American Civil War: CSS Alabama encounters and sinks the USS Hatteras off Galveston Lighthouse in Texas. 1879 – The Anglo-Zulu War begins. 1908 – Grand Canyon National Monument is created. 1912 – Immigrant textile workers in Lawrence, Massachusetts, go on strike when wages are reduced in response to a mandated shortening of the work week. 1914 – The Karluk, flagship of the Canadian Arctic Expedition, sank after being crushed by ice. 1917 – The Kingsland munitions factory explosion occurs as a result of sabotage. 1922 – Leonard Thompson becomes the first person to be injected with insulin. 1923 – Occupation of the Ruhr: Troops from France and Belgium occupy the Ruhr area to force Germany to make its World War I reparation payments. 1927 – Louis B. Mayer, head of film studio Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer (MGM), announces the creation of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, at a banquet in Los Angeles, California. 1935 – Amelia Earhart becomes the first person to fly solo from Hawaii to California.

#Events