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nientedal · 3 months

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On Constructive Criticism.

Hey friends. You ever want to leave a critique on a fic, and the author says they like constructive criticism/"concrit," but then you leave your critique and you try to make it complimentary but the author still seems less than thrilled with you? You may have missed the point of "constructive!" Don't feel bad, you aren't alone. Took me until I started writing and receiving feedback to really figure it out.

The key to remember is, "constructive" doesn't mean "nice." It doesn't mean phrasing gently, or doing a compliment sandwich (although those are fine things to do as well). "Constructive" feedback is feedback that would make the story as the author has already written it stronger.

"The execution of this character's decision to do XYZ felt a little bit out of nowhere, to me. Was that your intent? It didn't seem like it was meant to be a big twist, either. Maybe some extra foreshadowing would make it stronger, or some shock on the part of the other characters." THAT'S constructive criticism.

This is NOT constructive criticism: "This character doing XYZ thing really doesn't make for as strong a story as it could. I think he should have done NQD thing, instead. That would have been better."

The first example offers some ideas on how to help a character's decision land better when the reader couldn't tell what the author's intent was. It's possible the reader didn't like the decision and that's why they noticed - maybe some foreshadowing would have helped them accept it better, or some indication that it was meant to be shocking would have validated the reader's surprise & displeasure. But, crucially, the reader did not suggest anything that would require a massive rewrite. Some tweaking, sure, maybe the addition of a few paragraphs. But not a change to the character's decision as a whole, the way the second example suggested. The second example does describe something the reader thinks would make for a stronger story...but it is not something that would make THIS story stronger. It is describing a different story than the one the author has already written so far, so it's just plain ol' criticism. Constructive criticism makes the existing story stronger.

That's the difference. You aren't workshopping. You are commenting on something that is already being written, that is already planned to the point where someone is already posting it. There is a BIG DIFFERENCE between workshopping a story and simply giving concrit! Unless the author has specifically asked for workshop-style help, offering things to do differently from what was already written is worse than useless. Don't.

Rule of thumb: if what you're saying can be boiled down to "I think this cake would be better if it was pie," say something else. The cake is not pie. It's not GOING to be pie. I didn't ask what you think I should bake, I put cake on the table and asked what you thought of this cake. Tell me what would make THIS cake better. Not the pie you were thinking of, and not a different cake you might have liked better. THIS CAKE.

#writing #constructive criticism #concrit #fanfic #fandom #@ my fellow authors... it's also important for us to remember that even constructive feedback isn't always right #maybe the reader simply missed the foreshadowing that was there #maybe they just really really hated the character's decision and would have needed way more foreshadowing in order to accept it #but your other readers were fine #take everything with a grain of salt; don't jump to change things just because someone else thinks you should #*is* this how you want to write it? yes? then leave it #it's fine #someone not liking your work doesn't mean you should change it #just like someone getting upset when you say No doesn't mean you should have said Yes

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carnivalcarriondiscarded · 6 months

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If Howdy and Barnaby ever married, would Howdy wear a ring on only lne hand or get 4 rings for all of his 4 hands? This came to mind so ramdomly aBSJZNSJDN I'm sorry 😭😭

i've been thinking that he'd have two rings for both of his left hands

#or. no probably just one for his upper left to cut down on costs #a whole extra ring would be expensive smh #gotta remember that he's a filthy capitalist through and through...#rambles from the bog #barnaby would present him with two rings while proposing #and howdy would start crying - not out of happiness #but bc of the wasted money. why would barn spend so much extra when he didnt need to #howdy would take him back to the jewelry store to refund one #and Thats how barn finds out his proposal was accepted #'just one?' 'YES just one i dont need two' '🥺' 'why are you looking at me like that'#cut to the very awkward jeweler trying to pretend like theyre not there while barn gets Emotional & then howdy gets emotional #bc the two of them are a fucking feedback loop <3

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 2 years

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A Song of heart and blood - part three | Daemon Targaryen x Targaryen!Reader

Summary: After an horrible prophetical dream, you find yourself traveling through time to try and save your sister, Daenerys, from her fatal ascension to the Iron Throne. During your mission, your heart derives you from your duty and you fall in love with your ancestor

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: smut

masterpost

A/N: I advise you to use a high Valyrian translator for the few words used, to get deeper in the feels

Daemon's fingers began to unlace the laces of your dress, working to remove it while his lips traveled to your jaw and neck, eliciting soft moans from you as he kissed your soft skin.

‘’Daemon.’’ You let your head fall back to give him more room to kiss, your fingers clutching at his muscled shoulder through his thin chemise.

He dragged his lips to your shoulder, kissing it tenderly as began to pull down the fabric of your dress, revealing some skin. Your heart was hammering away in your chest so hard it feels like it's gonna explode.

Why must something that feels so good have to be so wrong?

You ignored the little voice in the back of your head, and slid your hands lower on Daemon’s back and began to tug on his chemise. Getting the message, he released your face and lifted his arms so you could take it off of him. You threw it to the floor behind you and leaned back, taking him and his beauty in, just as he was taking you in right now. You ran your hands over his chest, touching every contour of every muscle of his uncovered warrior body.

In the glow of the moon, you saw the battle scars on his chest, shoulder and his neck; a large red-ish stain of hard ridges scarred tissue – a physical journal of his battles. You felt them under your fingertips, tracing the serpentine white lines. Were those burns?

You opened your mouth to say something, but you couldn’t find the words.

Catching your train of thoughts, Daemon drove your attention elsewhere, pulling you from the door and carrying you to the bed – his bed – before your breasts saw the light and he could take you against that door. His mouth reconnected with yours again as he sat down, his tongue prodding your lips to be let in and brushing with yours as your hands worked the laces of his pants. It was an inconvenient angle – you standing between his legs –, but you followed his lead.

Daemon’s hands slipped under the skirt of your dress, pleased to find your legs bare. He grabbed your thigh firmly, then pulled you down and adjusted your legs on either side of him. The fabric of your skirt had ridden up, exposing more skin than a woman ever should without being wed. He cupped your butt cheeks and pulled you flush against him, pressing his body into yours so you would feel the bulge in his pants rubbing you. You gasped, a foreign feeling that felt like fire coursing through your veins filling your whole body from your core. Was this the dragon’s fire?

Your reaction made Daemon pull away, leaving you breathless and turned on. He chuckled. ‘’Is this your first time with a man?'’

Your cheeks flushed, a silent answer to the prince’s question.

Daemon tried to hide his smug grin. ‘’Let me teach you the pleasures.’’ Your breath hitched as he ran a finger up your folds, feeling your arousal coating his finger.

‘’Ah,’’ you moaned, your face twisted in pleasure.

A raspy chuckle left his mouth, and then he did it again. You began feeling an ache between your legs, but it wasn’t unpleasant. In fact, it was very pleasurable.

Since you were a little girl, you've been taught the importance of your maidenhood and why you shouldn't have anyone who is not your husband take it. Men don't want someone who is not pure and untouched, Viserys always reminded you and Daenerys. But as Daemon's finger slid inside you, you felt no remorse that a man you weren't wed to would be taking your maidenhood.

A shockwave of pleasure shuddered through you as a gasp left your lips, your inner muscles clamping around him and making him prisoner. The fire coursing through your veins started burning hotter and the ache between your legs doubled. Daemon's mouth connected with yours again as you slowly relaxed and unclenched around his finger, allowing him to move inside you in a slow glide.

If his finger felt this amazing, you couldn’t imagine what his–

‘’Kessa,’’ you sighed through a moan, clutching at his shoulders and leaving crescent marks.

You didn’t notice your slip up of high Valyrian, but Daemon did – precisely his cock, who twitched in his pants when he recognized the tongue. He groaned and you moaned louder, grinding into his hand as he added a second finger, the fullness eliciting a curse from your lips.

The fullness didn’t last long, gone before you could feel the entirety of their pleasure.

A whine of dissatisfaction escaping from your mouth as he withdrew them, wetness coated Daemon’s fingers. ‘’Daor. Gaomagon jāre.’’ You gave him a glare, but the prince didn’t react.

You rocked your hips blindly, searching for a similar feeling, jolting when Daemon’s hardened cock pressed against your swollen clit – another new feeling. Your eyebrows knitting together, you tried to recreate the movement, mewling when you got it.

Chuckling at your neediness, Daemon finished working the laces of your dress and pushed it off of your shoulders, uncovering your shoulders and freeing your breasts. They were perfect in every way; soft and heavy, filling his palms as if they were made to fit there. He kneaded them softly, his thumbs brushing over your nipples as he did so, eliciting a moan from you.

A cool breeze was coming in through the open balcony doors, but you couldn't feel it on your skin, the fire burning too hot.

‘’Daemon,’’ you whined, begging him to do something else, the kissing and frotting and fumbling no longer enough. ‘’I- I need your cock.’’ You reached between your bodies, trying to pull him out of his pants, but before you could get what you wanted, you found yourself on your back, a soft gasp of surprise leaving your parted lips.

Daemon shook his head, pressing his hips down on yours, taking back his primal dominance. “If you want to ride a dragon, you have to tame him first.” He leaned down, his silver hair dangling in front of his face. “And believe me, it is not as simple as you might think.”

You slid your hands through his hair, looking right into his desire-filled violet irises. “We shall see, my dragon, we shall see...” An alcohol induced giggle left your lips.

In the middle of the night, a combination of movement and voices stirred you from your slumber. Forcing your eyes to open, you saw Daemon's naked shadow slipping on a silk robe while grumbling some high Valyrian as he walked up to the door to see what in the seven hells was going on at this hour of the night.

You bit back a chuckle.

He opened the door and spoke to a guard standing outside. Had he been there all night? Your cheeks flushed in embarrassment, realizing that he must have heard you.

You couldn’t hear what they were saying, still in a half asleep state. The guard’s reply had been simple, but unfortunate. Daemon nodded at the guard, then closed the door.

‘’What is it, my prince?’’ you asked, sitting up when seeing a frown on his face, having momentarily forgotten about your doings in the queen’s chamber a few hours ago.

The Queen had woken up screaming in agonizing pain, blood soaking her bedsheets. A huddle of handmaids accompanied by Maester Orwyle had rushed to her bedchamber upon hearing her screams, alas there was nothing to be done.

She had lost the baby.

The castle was in complete chaos.

The handmaids were running around to change the sheets and clean the queen’s bedchamber, ridding it of all traces of blood while she was guided to a warm bath to clean herself as she cried by herself. The king was in mourning in his corner – again –, having flashes of his past wife, Aemma, whom had gone through a few miscarriages herself. The princess was in conflict with herself, a part of her wanting to go to her old friend’s side to comfort her. They may have had a falling out, but she still had a place in her heart. In the Hand’s tower, Otto Hightower was in his office, thinking of the sorrowful news he was going to have to tell in a few hours to the members of the small council.

According to the whispers, the maester didn’t understand how nor what made this happen. It was beyond his medical knowledge. How could someone who is perfectly healthy in the course of their pregnancy have a misscarriage in the middle of the night?

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Daemon hung his head low, battling an interior crisis. Albeit sad for his brother, the loss of the future heir was in his favor as it strengthened his claim to the throne.

For you, the miscarriage of Aegon II had a whole other meaning. It meant that your mission was accomplished, that your sister was saved from her fated end. It also meant your time here was over and you could go home]. As great as going home sounded, you felt a bittersweet feeling in your stomach. Going home also meant saying goodbye to Daemon.

Without saying anything, you reached out, snaking an arm around his shoulders and cradling his head against you. A heavy breath left his lips as he pressed his face in your shoulder. You held back your tears, cherishing this moment knowing it would be your last with him.

The glow of the sun was coming in through the windows when you woke up this time, casting a golden glow in the room. Beside you Daemon was sleeping soundly, his facial features soft and relaxed as soft snores escaped his parted lips. They say Targaryens are closer to Gods than men; they might be right because, when you look at Daemon, his beauty is surreal – godlike.

His chest was rising and falling slowly, the thin sheets covering his body resting very low on his pelvis, below the sparse trail of silver hair, and not doing much at covering his dignity. Before last night, the sight of a man’s genitals would have made you blush, but right now it made you want to tear the sheet and, as Daemon had put it, ‘ride the dragon’.

With a lump in your throat, you retrieved your dress from the stone floor, wishing you could stay a bit longer. If only it wouldn't put so much in jeopardy...

‘’Geros ilas, ñuha zaldrīzes.’’

You wiped a tear as you slipped out of Daemon's bedchamber, ignoring the guard standing outside. The same one who heard your sounds of pleasures during your tangle in the sheets.

Fortunately, the castle was almost empty when you made your way through the corridors and stairs, only seeing a few servants. After last night’s event, everyone was most likely still asleep – or mourning. You had almost made it through the courtyard, when you were interpelled by none other than Otto Hightower.

Fuck.

‘’Ah, I was hoping to speak to you before your departure. I'm in luck, I see, catching you just as you are sneaking off.’’

You nodded your head in greeting. ‘’Lord Hightower.’’

The man stood tall, ‘’The night has been eventful, hasn't it?’’ he added, staring you down.

His judging eyes made you self conscious of the tangles in your hair and your rumpled dress. There was no hiding that you had spent the night in Daemon’s bed.

‘’I have heard of the queen's loss. Please send her my deepest condolences. I cannot imagine the pain she must be going through.’’

Otto gave you a single nod. ‘’I will. Speaking on the matter, I am not making any accusations, but how much of a coincidence is it that the evening you have dinner at the castle, something happens to the queen?’’

His words didn’t surprise you. You should have guessed he was going to try making a connection between you and the queen after he caught you coming out of her apartment last night. Your lie had not slid through as well as you had hoped.

Remaining calm was your best chance at getting away with it. ‘’You claim not to be making accusations, but your words contradict, Lord Hightower,’’ you pointed out, speaking intelligently. ‘’Please be more precise. Are you, or are you not accusing me of something?’’

‘’Pardon me to be wary of you, but you haven't given much information on your doings in King's Landing. One doesn't travel from Essos without any intentions. That is, if you did travel from Essos.’’ Otto raised a questioning eyebrow. ‘’I have spoken to a contact of mine who has lived her whole life in Essos and she has never heard of the name ‘Stormborn’.

‘’Essos is an immense landmass. With all due respect, it is impossible for your contact, whomever she is, that she knows everyone.’’

The scheming man hummed. ‘’As Hand of the King, I am only doing my duty. For what we know, you could be a charlatan, a threat to the crown.’’

‘’See me the way you want, Lord Hightower. My intentions with Prince Daemon have nothing to do with Queen Alicent – or anyone living here.’’

Otto laughed. ‘’Perhaps Prince Daemon should put as much effort into his marriage as he does with his whores. Lady Rhea has never set foot in King's Landing in their twelve years of marriage, but he invites his mistress to a dinner with the king. That’s an outrage to Lady Rhea’s honor.’’ There was venom and spite in Otto’s voice, pressing on his words with the intention to provoke you, to hurt you.

‘’Who Prince Daemon wants to bed is none of your business,’’ you defended, trying not to react to him calling you Daemon’s mistress. ‘’As for the dinner, the king himself invited me. I doubt he would have invited me if he did not want me at the table.’’

That last conversation with Otto confirmed your suspicions: someone had been spying on you. A woman, he had mentioned. Knowing that information, you had no other choice but to leave. Your life and the future were in danger. Men like Otto are bottomless. He won't stop digging and investigating until he found your true identity.

At the inn, you packed your small amount of belongings into your traveling pouch and left the last of your coins to the owner, thanking her for the room. She wished you well and, hood over your head, you headed to Blackwater bay through the Muddy Way where the fishermen and shipments boats were.

Traveling clandestinely was dangerous for many reasons – especially for a woman –, but you had no other choice. You weren’t wealthy enough to own a boat. This was your only way to get to Volantis.

You found a shipment boat who was crossing going east to the Narrow Seas and was planning to get on it, but a red dragon flew around over the bay. Caraxes screeched and your heart clenched in your chest, tears brimming your eyes.

Taglist: @taylordaughter @gillybear17 @liltimmyst @eos-princess @Kaitieskidmore1 @instabull

House of the Dragon/Game of Thrones taglist: @anastasiaxsworld @lollypopcrazylover @fin-never @dkathl @ayamenimthiriel @nerdy4itall @rraindrops @glors3 @beelanie @hc-geralt-23 @sweetybuzz25 @uniquenightsheep @kaywsworld @i-yam-awesome @caspianobsessed @kelssssxd @dilfsarebetterthanyou @missyviolet123 @leakycauldrns @brezzybfan @khaleesihavilliard @vexedvalerie @lollaa-puff @my-dark-prince @chevelledahuman @caspianobsessed @ayamenimthiriel @yor72 @mirandastuckinthe80s @newtsniffles @cleverzonkwombatsludge @justaproudslytherpuff @ren-ni @green-lxght @anginoguera @bubblebuttwade @comicsol1999 @rockerchick05 @baelavelaryonwp @tnu-ree @beccawinter @alexisabirdie @persage @hayleighloatx @kindaslightlyacidic @perdynerd @elsyyie @puffycreamcakes @thirsty4nonlivingmen @naty-1001 @xannybabyxx @katiepie67 @kjones375 @moshpot24x @hc-geralt-23 @lovelynerdytraveler @saturn-sas @zgzgh @sssjuico10 @tabloidteen @timetoten @deekaag @wondxrgurl @queenofshinigamis @aerangi @strmborns @astridyoo15 @Wehi02 @daemonslittlebitch @queenbeestuffs @severewobblerlightdragon @agentstarkid @msliz @cayleecook38 @yoyopolloobamadaddy @hayleighloatx @vane1999-blog @smptxx @fairyfolkloresposts @yassi-world @todaywasafairytale07 @ESobilal @otomaniac @zgzgzh @thebeardedmoon @golden-library @kikyrizuki @hnslchw @camy85 @winxschester @khaleesihavilliard @domoron @ididliquorice @lover-of-helios @lover-of-helios @shine101 @tanyaherondale @mikariell95 @Katelyn15m @serrendiipty @lantsovheiress @gilliananderfuckme @shine101 @tetgod @beggarsnotchoosey @vainillasmil157 @kizzyxren @clayzayden@memeorydotcom @Harryshousewhore @kodzuvk @tnu-ree @omgsuperstarg @futuregws @blackravena @ashlatano7567 @winxschester @mysteriouslydelightfulchaos @xxlaynaxx @uh-no-actually @secretsthathauntus @lemiqa @pilarxxxaguayo @emmavan39 @stargaryenx @erylilly @bbblackmamba @rainedrop97 @Hc-geralt-23 @dreamer087 @gothicgay14 @ashlatano7567 @superkittywonderland @justaproudslytherpuff @evesolstice @buckysmainhxe @mouldyfrog @padfootsvixen @scarletmeii @drusillaravenclaw @softtina @Jelly-fishy-babie @evesolstice @Thelilacmourning @dkathl @kaywsworld @tetgod @padfootsvixen @xannybabyxx

#daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen smut #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #hotd imagine #hotd #a song of heart and blood #what do you think will happen next?#all feedback (comments) is accepted

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jakeperalta · 7 months

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it is actually so unfair how being quiet is treated as a character flaw that needs fixing in every area of life

#every single school parents evening and uni review session and work reviee meeting the feedback has been #oh yeah i'm smart and hardworking and everything is great but i'm too quiet and need to talk more #like my boss even said she knows it's not actually necessary for a writer #like exactly! i know that i'm quiet but that's why i'm not trying to have a career in sales or something #literally i sit at home at my computer and read and write stuff and my minimal communication with others is written #why do i need to be loud!!!#i've had the same feedback for 20 years at this point it's like can we not just accept that some people are just quiet and not try to fix it #talking

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nerevar-quote-and-star · 4 months

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Okay, here are my current notes on the Markarth Incident. This is more of an evolution of thought rather than a final product, 'kay? 'kay. XOXO

4E 174 – The Empire recalls all Legions from the far corners of the Empire to participate in the final assault against the Aldmeri-held Imperial City. Every town and city not on the frontlines is left with a skeleton garrison.

The Reachmen of Western Skyrim chooses to capitalize on this movement. The Reachmen populate an area of Western Skyrim, Eastern High Rock, and Northern Hammerfell. Although they appear similar to the Bretons of High Rock, they are wholly distinct, worshipping gods completely detached from those of Breton culture. During the Second Era, they once ruled Cyrodiil as the Longhouse Emperors; in recent history, they have lived subject to other races, primarily the Nords, who rule much of the Reach. More often than not, Reachmen are second-class citizens, though very rarely have they received decent though not preferential treatment from a Nordic Jarl.

When the Empire recalls their Legions, the capital of the Reach, Markarth, is left functionally undefended. A Reachman leader, Madanach, takes this opportunity to seize the city and install a Reachmen government in place of the Nords. Madanach declares himself King of the Reach and succeeds the Reach from Skyrim. Contemporary Imperial documents show that Madanach sent emissaries to Emperor Titus Mede II in an attempt to have the Reach recognized as its own Imperial Province wholly separate from Skyrim. Titus Mede appeared to have taken this into serious consideration, though he was unable to give it his full attention as the Empire was planning their attack on the Imperial City.

Conflicting reports on the time frame of the Reachman takeover exist. Reports vary between the takeover beginning in Fourth Era 174 and 177 when the conflict was over. Contemporary Imperial and Forsworn documentation claim that Madanach’s rule was relatively stable, saying he was fair to the Nords, his people ousted from power, and allowed them to remain in the city so long as they recognized his government. It is said that live around Markarth continued in the same way as before, though under the Reachmen rather than the Nords. It may be important to note that Nord landholders who “mistreated” their Reachmen servants were put to death.

The Nordic perspective (as shared by Jarl Igmund in Fourth Era 201) claims that the Reachmen takeover was violent, leading to a chaotic period in which Nords were heavily discriminated against and no civil cooperation between races.

[Madanach’s version of events MAY be closer to the truth. N.B: During his rule, he seems willing to help a group of dissident Blades in exchange for a favor.]

The White-Gold Concordat is signed 11th of Sun’s Dusk, Fourth Era 175; Surviving veterans of the Battle of the Red Ring return to their homes, including large populations of Nordic legionnaires. Talos worship is outlawed. Talos temples are closed, though many continue to worship him in private. Ulfric Stormcloak takes offense to the banning of Talos worship, viewing it as a central aspect of Nord culture. His father, Hoag, the Jarl of Windhelm and Bear of Eastmarch, does not legalize Talos worship despite Ulfric’s religiosity. It may be that he wishes to avoid a conflict with the Empire. Jarl Hrolfdir of Markath, in exile by Madanach’s government, promises Ulfric and his supporters religious freedom should they take back the Reach from the Reachmen. This is in blatant disregard of the White-Gold Concordat.

Ulfric leads a militia across Skyrim to the Reach where they took back Markarth. A few Reachmen leaders were imprisoned, though others were killed, along with most of their warriors, though some were driven off into the surrounding wilds. The survivors in exile began to call themselves the Forsworn. They attack Nords and the Empire indiscriminately due to anger and feelings of betrayal.

Most of the Reachmen leaders are killed. However, allegedly at the request of the Silver-Blood family, Madanach is taken prisoner and held in the depths of Cidhna Mine. The Forsworn claim that the Nords, under Jarl Hrolfdir and Ulfric Stormcloak, took back the city through an excess of unnecessary violence, putting to death or imprisoning anyone who had even spoken to Madanach or said his name. It is also said that the family members of those who were deemed to be against the Nords’ rule were imprisoned or killed, even down to young children. Purported Imperial propaganda puts forth that Ulfric himself killed everyone in Markarth who would not join his cause.

It is true that there was bloodshed and death of innocents during the retaking of Markarth. The factuality of this claim can be traced to those Reachmen who survived the incident, sharing their experiences twenty-five years afterward.

Jarl Hrolfdir was assassinated during attempted peace talks with the Forsworn after the retaking of Markarth. It may be that the incident only grew violent after this point due to Nordic retaliation.

Why would Ulfric and Jarl Hrolfdir use that much unnecessary violence and brutality against the Reachmen if they intended to negotiate with them afterward?

Perhaps Igmund instigates the brunt of the violence against the Reachmen following his father’s death.

Jarl Hrolfdir was marked for death by the Dark Brotherhood. It is unknown who performed the Black Sacrament on the Jarl. It is possible someone from outside the conflict placed the contract on Jarl Hrolfdir’s head as a means of sewing chaos between the opposing sides (it could have been Igmund or Raerek [crack theory; maybe the brother was trying to Lion King his way into power and failed miserably? Or one of them opposed making peace with the Reachmen], or perhaps it was the Aldmeri Dominion?). Regardless, the Jarl’s death is the probable instigator for the deaths of many of the Reachman remaining in Markarth.

The Imperial Legion shows up not long after the city is retaken. They are seemingly thankful that Ulfric’s militia took back the Reach. When Ulfric lets them into the city, he asks that they recognize the free worship of Talos that Jarl Hrolfdir had legalized in the Reach; otherwise, the Legion would be fought off. The Imperial Legate (or general?) present at the time okays Ulfric’s request, effectively breaking the White-Gold Concordat. Again. Not long after, the Thalmor discovered this and took issue with this breach of treaty. They give the Empire an ultimatum: disband Talos worship in the Reach or prepare for the Great War to be renewed.

Ulfric and his followers are arrested and imprisoned by the Empire as Talos worship is again banned. The Empire must crack down on cases of Talos worship across the province. In consequence of the incident, the Thalmor gain access to Skyrim for their Justiciars through an Embassy. This is allegedly to enforce the terms of the White-Gold Concordat after it had been broken by the Nords in Fourth Era 176/7, but on an underground level, this allows the Thalmor to hunt, capture, and torture suspected Talos worshippers. The coming of the Thalmor Justiciars to Skyrim is technically a domino effect caused by Ulfric’s demand for free and open Talos worship.

Jarl Hrolfdir’s assassination happens during Ulfric and his supporters imprisonment. It may be possible that it was Ulfric OR one of his men who performed the Black Sacrament (though how could they do this while in an Imperial prison? Ulfric had to smuggle out his eulogy for his father’s funeral – what is the Imperial prison smuggling system like? Could any of them have had access to a dead body? Smuggled in or that of a fellow prisoner?). Whoever performed the Black Sacrament on Jarl Hrolfdir is the root cause for the retribution killings of the Reachmen. (Perhaps it was Thonar Silver-Blood?)

Ulfric is an uncooperative asset to the Thalmor, not because he ever cooperated with them in the first place, but because he is the (unintended) reason they have such a strong foothold in Skyrim now.

#yes I know the timeline is conflicted by different parties #but since tes lore is conflicting all the time i reserve to take what makes sense to me and run like oblivion #ulfric is at fault here not because he crazy killed people but because he was a stupid guy in his late 20s and he didn't get subtlety yet #i guess? also how long after his imprisonment/torture by the dominion was this? dude's head was HOT #kinda thought igmund would be the funny choice here but nah a silver blood makes more sense #everyone here is an idiot except hoag who had the good sense to NOT be a part of this #this is important now because leara is going to markarth in keeping count act ii and I HAVE ALWAYS WANTED HER TO MEET MADANACH #saw a thing comparing madanach to nerevar indoril as they both were the only ones to unite the warring tribes/clans/house of their people #i also need to take a crash course in reachmen and figure out what the HECK cael's deal is #neither cael nor the markarth incident were supposed to be in keeping count AND YET HERE WE ARE #gladly accept feedback and thoughts but also please don't hurt me lore is too messy and he said she said what even the crap to get mad abou #I didn't know you were keeping count #ulfric stormcloak #markarth incident #forsworn #the great war #the elder scrolls #tes #skyrim #mod post #stuff like this is why I don't do lore posts #lore #meta #maybe? dunno ANYWAY #aldmeri dominion #madanach

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lilyoffandoms · 5 months

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My January Challenge Masterlist

I’m challenging myself to draw a little something for each prompt for @choicesjanuary2024. I started back in December and have fallen behind a bit but I’m gonna keep at it as best I can. So this is for me to keep track of all the ones I’ve completely finished.

Day One: Mal x Daenarya Silhouette (Blades for @storyofmychoices)

Day Two: Detective Lilah Rose (CoP for @storyofmychoices)

Day Three: Winter Princess (Nightbound for @ladylamrian

Day Four: Leaf, King of Birds (TCH)

Day Five: Lancelot x Guinevere Silhouette (Guinevere)

Day Six: Tatum x Aubrey Silhouette (FA)

Day Seven: Ethan (OPH for @peonyblossom)

Day Eight: Kieran (TCH)

Day Nine: Aerin x Raine (Blades for @oh-so-youre-a-nerd, abandoned sketch)

Day Ten: Nora Rose (CoP for @inlocusmads)

Day 11: Tyril Starfury (Blades)

Day 12: Saini Rusanen (ID for @aallotarenunelma)

Day 13: Sebastyan Thorne Case File (CoP)

Day 14: Trystan x Nora (CoP based on this by @inlocusmads)

Day 15: Mal Volari (Blades)

Day 16: Nia Ellarious (Blades)

Day 17: Kajsiab (Alpha)

Day 18: Imtura Tal Kaelen (Blades)

Day 19: Luca O'Rinn (ID for aria-ashryver)

Day 20: Aerin x Raine (Blades based on this by lovehugsandcandy)

Day 21: Together We Win (Blades MC)

Day 22: Eva Archer (WTD MC for @dutifullynuttywitch)

Day 23: Lilah Rose (CoP MC for @storyofmychoices)

Day 24: Wallace (Blades)

Day 25: Letter from Dad (CoP based on this by @inlocusmads)

Day 26: Marianna Howard (DaD OC for noesapphic)

Day 27: Ash Clark (ID OC for @aallotarenunelma)

Day 28: Trystan (CoP for @stars-are-within-me)

Day 29: Gabriel Rose (CoP based on this headcanon)

Day 30: Casey MacTavish (OPH MC for @jerzwriter)

Day 31: Trystan x Gabriel (CoP)

#straight up stealing jerzwriters idea of this masterlist lol #choicesjanuary #choicesjanuary2024 #my art ish thing #i polish nothing #i don’t accept criticism or feedback #from anyone that ain’t a friend #or mutual #i’ll ask if i want it form any of the rest of y’all #definitely don’t want it if you come at me on anon

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hatekawa · 9 months

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Do you mind if I have a message to the Anons? (you can just ignore this ask if you don't wanna post it)

My Dear Anons and everyone here present

Plz Let Kawa Cook and Chill a little

As you could see from the last posts, she didn't had a nice time lately, so she deserves to just sit and enjoy her drawings If she will be ready to show us some of her gorgouse work, she'll show it

Guys plz remember that asking Artists "When will be the next chapter of this and that", "What are you cooking there" isn't always a good thing, there are a lot of us here, it can make the artist tired and it (in my opinon) doesn't really help to get more motivation if everyone is asking these questions

Guys! Some mistery from the Artist side is good! It will hype us more!

(Again Kawa, you can just ignore this Ask if you are not comfortable with answering it, I hope that you feel a little better then before)

Okay, so.

Today was my first day in a new school. Im very anxious about this. New people, new surroundings, new stuff to learn and new responsibilities.

Because of my school year starting, I'll have less time for myself which means less time to draw and write :(

Im planning on some stuff for you, but I dont wanna tell you what it is. I want you to have a surprise & its much less pressure for me!

& I dont mind asks, comments, dms, requests or questions. I like when you talk to me!

Just please be patient with me, and thank you!

HAVE A NICE DAY/NIGHT/ANYTHING!!!!!!🩵🩷🩵🩷🩵🩷🩵🩷omg the hearts are so pretty what yhe hell

#ask #ok time for stuff im too embarassed to say out loud #the whole attention and kind feedback makes me feel accepted and important even which i dont feel on daily basis #i do realize its internet and not real life which makes it impossible for me to get attached to but its still very nice #im flustered when you guys get hyperfixated over my stuff or when you create something because i inspired you #its just.#so cool to see you make stuff #also im not joking. asks dont make me feel pressed or anxious at all #btw the thing im working on is smiliar to arcane crossover :)#i hope i will finish it LMFAO my ass just cant focus on finish one thing at a time /hj

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katiefratie · 2 months

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Mole connections so true Adaine Is that something? Probably not but maybe!

#dimension 20 #fantasy high #fhjy #fhjy spoilers #im accepting feedback at this time ahdnahsnajjsan #go off adaine

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bby-deerling · 2 months

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since i've seen people doing this...

#cilles ramblings #i accept honest feedback 🤭

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danses-with-dogmeat · 9 months

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R is for -- Raul Tejada

Ah, Raul, what an absolute legend for beating MacCready in the polls. I couldn't believe it, but once again, I am not complaining. I love him, I love writing for him, and just... these types of prompts for him make me feel all giddy.

Gramps deserves some lovin', what can I say?

And here is the 2k event masterlist, for your browsing pleasure!

Pair: Raul x F! Six

Dialogue: “Don't stop."

Word: Relief

Rating: NSFW (but not super explicit)

Category: Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 1.4k

“Really? Wow, I can’t believe you remember all that…When it was, what, over a hundred years ago or something?” Without putting too much thought to the action, Six leaned her head against her companion’s shoulder as her eyes stayed transfixed on the smoldering fire they’d prepared.

“Well, more like 200." He let out a dry sort of chuckle, and the movement jostled Six's head slightly. "Doesn’t seem as long ago as it was, though. And what can I say? Memories like that... They stick with you. Family, you know?”

“I don’t actually.” She was quick to answer him.

“O-oh, right, sorry ‘bout that, boss.” Raul stammered, and Six felt him tense.

“No, no, sorry, I meant that more as a joke.” Six laughed a bit, and she felt Raul’s shoulders relax from their previous stiffness as she kept her head leaning on him.

“It may sound bad to say," She continued, "but… I feel like I don’t really need to be sad about not having a family.” Six seemed to say it without thinking, the words just flowing out freely like Raul’s ears were a natural sort of irrigation path. “I mean… I have you.”

Raul shifted as he looked down at his companion, and though she was still staring ahead, into the glowing coals of their leftover fire, he could see the truth of her words shining through in her expression.

“Me?” He asked, and it came out as little more than a breath.

“Yeah, Raul.”

He smiled at the way she said his name, feeling like a giddy colegial again, even after so many years.

“I feel like, with you, I have everything I need.”

He could only blink at that, unsure quite how to respond to something so sweet, directed at him.

It's been awhile...

Six shifted against him, sitting up and turning so that they could meet his gaze.

“And… I’m sorry, for everything that you’ve lost, that you had to leave behind. But I hope… I hope that having me in your life makes it a little easier.”

She looked away now, and-- was that un poco de rosa rising to her cheeks?

Raul felt… captivated, his eyes unblinking as he took in the lovely sight of his partner–

His boss, he had to remind himself.

There is no way she could see me that way. Románticamente. She just said she sees me as family.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, mija.” He said, in placement of everything he truly wanted to reveal to her.

This... this is más fácil.

What she feels for him now; how she depends on him, how she views him, it should be enough.

After all this time though, time on his own… Raul felt ready for something more with this woman, but if it meant losing what they have? If she refused him? Maybe, like the few others he’d thought of pursuing in the past hundred years or so, she’d turn him away, maybe with that same hint of disgust upon her face, that quality of ‘what were you thinking?’ in her voice.

Raul didn’t think he could handle something like that, couldn’t go back to his measly shack and his workbench, todo solo. Not now, that he knew what it was like to be with her.

Sure, he complained and he sassed, he still worked and was in danger a hell of a lot more than he had been on his own, but… He was living, now. Not just wallowing in his memories, living in the past, or living in a prison– in more than one way– like when she found him.

“Really?” Six breathed, and he felt the spill of warm air over his face, just now realizing her close proximity to him.

How come she hasn’t flinched yet? Most women flinch– most gente, even– can’t stand to be so close to someone like me.

“I feel… Just the same, only, well…”

Raul could see the way her heart picked up written upon her face. Six was about to tell him something that would change everything, but…

She never quite had the chance, as something possessed the ghoul, some confidence her words had forced into him, something her closeness brought about, and he leaned forward the couple inches it took to press his lips to hers.

A small noise escaped her, surprise, he hoped, and not–

Disgust, revulsion, fear, anger. Sólo elige uno, could be any. Or multiple, even.

His own fear was dashed from him, though, as Six wove her hands around the back of his neck and pulled him closer.

Sparks flew behind Raul’s closed eyelids as he felt her press so wholly into him, as she tilted her head and her soft, perfecta, lips kneaded over his. His, that he’d been so self-conscious about, that he feared might even hurt her, with their roughness. If it did though, Six made no mention or motion of it, and before he knew it, Raul found his– equally bruto– hands sliding over her waist, pulling her body closer to his, delicately weaving his fingers over her loose-fitting sleep shirt, lifting the fabric ever so slightly to graze his warm fingers over the smooth skin of her torso.

As one exploratory hand moved to caress her back beneath her shirt, Raul felt Six gasp against him, her body tensing beneath his touch in a way that jolted him out of his mindless bliss, back into reality. Without another thought, he pulled back and away from her, his hands and lips both vacating her body with rash haste.

“Mija, Six… I…”

Does an apology even begin to cover this?

Maldito idiota--

“Shh.” She filled the space that he'd made between them without hesitation.

No, alternatively, Six’s hands never left their place over Raul's shoulders, and even now, they sought to pull him closer, her fingers insistent where they pressed into the thin fabric of his jumpsuit.

“It’s alright, Raul.”

She’d whispered his name this time, and despite all his cautionary thoughts, Raul couldn’t stop the tingle down his spine from reaching another place, one he was more ashamed of, as he felt his jumpsuit seem to tighten below his hips.

“Don’t stop.”

Raul heard the words, and then, Six’s lips were back on his.

Even the coals of the fire had darkened and cooled now, and the pair were utterly lost in one another. Months of buildup, of feelings unspoken and actions un-acted upon, and all of it being released on this one fine, cool night beneath the stars.

Raul’s mind only came back to him when Six’s fingers set upon the zipper of his mechanic jumpsuit, pulling it down without an ounce of reproach, and he couldn’t find it in himself to stop her. At this point, Six knew what she was doing, she wanted this, as much as he did.

And mierda, but that was a wondrous thought.

So, he allowed her to tug the fabric from his arms, to haul it all down, down, until his chest was exposed to her. Only then, did she pull her lips from his.

Breathless, Raul opened his eyes, seeking any semblance of apprehension or disgust from her as she saw his ravaged skin in its gross entirety, but no such expression crossed her face.

No, only that same such wonder that he felt as he looked at her, as he thought of her. She drank him in, like a clear, blue oasis in the middle of the blistering heat of the Mojave, and her lips quickly followed suit from her eyes. Tentatively, but more for his sake than her own, it seemed, Six kissed down his neck, then to his chest, as her arms smoothed over his skin in a reverent sort of way. A way that made him want to worship her in return.

The touch was… shocking, to say the least, but the weight off his shoulders, the fear, it was all lifted away as she pressed her hands to his chest, encouraging Raul to lay back on the rough blanket they’d laid upon the sand, and continued her cariñoso actions over his skin.

Raul allowed himself to close his eyes, to soak in the feeling of her touches, unabashed and unashamed. More than he could say of his own views of himself.

It was aliviando, to forget his own biases, and to free himself of what he’d thought she might say or do when he told her the truth, when he made it clear how he cared for her.

It wasn’t something he was used to, but perhaps, that too could change.

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