#alistair short story

[thethirddoctor]

"Mind you, I'm not wild about computers myself, but they are a tool. If you have a tool, it's stupid not to use it."

#doctor who #third doctor #doctor who fanart #fanart #art #ai #the doctor #bbc doctor who #classic doctor who #the third doctor #short story #dr who brigadier #brigadier alistair gordon lethbridge stewart #gallifrey #nuwho #new who #classic who #dw short story #dw fandom #fan fiction #fiction #funny #comedy #jon pertwee #third doctor jon pertwee #doctorwho #dw rp #dw #science fiction #science

[yav0kl]

first date with Alistair Lowe; your lips, my lips, apocalypse

Pairings: Alistair Lowe x GN!Reader

Warnings: fluffy, first time writing for a fictional character and smth like this, nervous Alistair Lowe, might be OOC

Alistair was nervous, to say the least. He had finally gained the courage to ask you on a date three days ago, to which you agreed. He hadn’t even been on a date before, let alone had any romantic experience. Sure, he knew the basics of dating and going on dates, but he had no idea how to actually initiate it. Either way, he knew it was too late to back out. What kind of guy would he be if he just stood you up? As Alistair stood at your front door, he was reluctant to knock on it. Just then, he was immediately startled by the sound of the door opening, revealing you. If Alistair didn’t believe in god before, he sure did now. You looked ethereal, the black turtleneck that hugged your torso and the sweatpants you had on? It nearly made all his nerves calm down, replaced by a sense of love. Keyword is nearly. Seeing you made him feel even more nervous. You were dressed up so nice, while he just wore a black shirt and trousers, it made him wonder if it was like he didn’t care about the date anymore. At an attempt to break the silence, and try to sound calm and relaxed, he spoke up.

“Hey. You look really nice.”

Despite how his words came out without any stuttering or stammering (which he was extremely proud of), Alistair couldn’t hide the evident voice crack at the end of the sentence. He had been through a lot of things, dark things, humiliating things too, but nothing was more embarrassing than having your voice crack in front of your crush. He thought he just made the atmosphere even more awkward, but the train of thoughts in his mind was stopped abruptly by the sound of laughter escaping your lips. He noticed the way the corners of your lips curved up into a smile, which he found incredibly endearing. Since he was young, he had never found anything endearing or even remotely adorable, because he knew they would one day disappear or their cuteness would fade away, and yet he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about you that way.

“W-was that a voice crack?”

You spoke after you had finished laughing, a wide smile still plastered on your face, as if amused at Alistair's attempt at trying to stay calm but failing miserably. He sheepishly looked down at the concrete floor for a second, a bit embarrassed that you had noticed (very embarrassed).

“Maybe..”

Alistair spoke, cheeks flushed a red hue, contrasting against his pale skin before he bit his bottom lip and looked back up at you.

“Forget that just happened, let’s get to our date.”

Alistair spoke, as if eager to drop the subject since he was so embarrassed about it. Since you both met, you had been the only one that got him to drop his guard and actually get closer to him, along with Hendry of course. Just as he was about to reach out and hold your hand, he hesitated and wondered if he should or shouldn’t. He was snapped out of his trance by the feeling of your hand grabbing his gently, entwining your fingers with his as you gave him a reassuring squeeze, along with a small smile.

“Alright, right after this.”

You spoke, before planting a kiss on his lips. And that was it. Alistair knew it wasn’t even just a simple crush anymore.

He loved you, and yet he didn’t seem worried at all about it.

#alistair lowe #all of us villains #all of our demise #Alistair lowe x reader #reader fanfic #Amanda foods #Christine Lynn Herman #first time writing #short story #Alistair being a low-key sweetheart #fluff

[troublebrewing-if]

The Prince and the Spire

The current ruling House has a long and bloody history.

Reginald braced his hands against the parapet wall of the tallest tower and looked out over the capital city. Below, soldiers wearing the five-petaled white rose that was his house's emblem moved through the nearly deserted streets and a pall of smoke hung over the East End.

He wrinkled his nose; the stench of burning reached even here. It was no great loss, at least. The East End was a warren of slums and gin shops. The fire would allow for a fresh start and nothing of worth had been lost.

From here, he could see the curtain wall that had once encircled the city before it had outgrown it, like a child growing too tall for their tunic. It had been built by an earlier dynasty, one that now was relegated to history. The entire line had been extinguished and his House and his cousins' House had spent decades fighting over the scraps before his grandfather had been victorious and taken the throne.

He frowned. He didn't like to think about the dynasty that had come before or to think that there might be another to come after him and his family. His father had always said that they ruled through divine right, so how to explain the changes in dynasties? Did those fallen monarchs anger God in some way?

Now, civil war had come again and it had been brutal and bloody. He felt as if he had waded through blood, thigh-deep, to gain the throne.

He would do it again. He would drown the city in blood if that is what it took. And God must bless his rule, because he had taken both the city and the crown with it.

He watched the city -- his city -- the freshening wind tugging at his auburn hair.

The door behind him opened, but he didn't bother glancing over his shoulder. Only de Rainault would bother him here, in his sanctuary.

The other man, drawn and pale as a drowned corpse, shrouded in black silk and velvet with no other adornment, came to stand beside him.

"What is it?" the soon-to-be crowned king said. "Can't you see I want to be alone?" He was already tired of the barons' squabbling and petty power grabs, and the crown had yet to be placed on his head.

"Your nephew, the Prince, has been captured," de Rainault said.

"Where is he now?"

The barons who opposed his rule had rallied around his dead older brother's child, supporting his claim to the throne. However, the boy was only five. Seizing the reins of power was in the best interest of the realm, lest unscrupulous regents manipulate the boy king to improve their own positions.

The Prince would prove a valuable hostage and his supporters would be on a short leash as long as he was in custody.

"Swynford is bringing him here, accompanied by a small, but loyal, cadre of his most battle-hardened soldiers with all due haste. He should be here within a day."

"I want him in the Spire."

The Spire, once a tower fortress of that fallen dynasty, was now a prison. His own mother, Queen Alix, had been imprisioned there for a year and a half after she had supported his brother in a rebellion against their father. It was strangely appropriate that his son would soon take up residence there.

"It would be better if the Prince met some accident on the road," de Rainault said.

"Perhaps." The king-in-waiting smiled thinly. "But I think not. The barons already cry that I have stolen his birthright. I won't have them whispering that I have stolen his life as well. Besides, at the moment, he is more useful to me alive."

"As long as he lives, there is the danger that the barons will attempt to install him on the throne."

"I do not intend that he will grow into a threat to my throne. But, for now ... "

De Rainault bowed his head. "Of course, I bow to your wisdom in this matter, my lord."

He smiled again, but there was no humor in it. The Old Spider would say all the right things to his face, but he had no doubt that, behind the scenes, he was weaving his schemes. As long as their goals aligned, he could trust that de Rainault would act in his own best interest.

He waved a hand in dimissal. "I tire of this. Return when the Prince is safely in the Spire and not before."

"Of course, my lord," de Rainault murmured. "I have but one more imposition on your time. Preparations for your crowning have been ... hurried ... but you have not yet chosen a regnal name."

He didn't have to think it over. He would take the name of their House's founder, a great warrior and conqueror. It was a name worthy of the great dynasty that would follow him, and he would be the first, and greatest, to bear it.

"My regnal name will be King Alistair."

#trouble brewing if #interactive fiction #twine if #twine #char: king alistair #world building #short story #tw description of civil unrest #tw violence #maudeen's prose

[druckkugelschreiber]

You know how when you see an add for something and it makes you not want to buy it? And then you see it more and more and it makes you spiteful and hating it?

That‘s what I have with popular characters (and sometimes ships) in fandom. It’s not like I hate the character but it‘s so fucking oversaturated it makes me prickly and irritated when I see it

#long story short my love for Alistair has not come back from the war and I don’t know if it ever will #maybe if I ever get to write Nydhena’s full story #this isn’t DA fandom exclusive but is sort of is #fandom

[alistairsprayerwarrior]

Showing versus Telling

I struggle a lot with "showing and not telling." Here's some exercises and techniques I've tried to practice this from researching different methods that I just conjured up together (please take with a grain of salt, everyone is different, lol.):

Object Observation: Choose an object in your immediate vicinity and describe it without naming what it is. Include details about its texture, color, size, shape, and any other distinctive features. Basically: have someone else to identify it based on your description.

Character Emotions: Write a list of emotions and for each one, write a short scene that shows a character experiencing that emotion without directly stating what the emotion is. i.e., Instead of saying, "Alistair was angry", you could say... "Alistair's fists clenched, his jaw tightened; his face turned red as he stared at the broken amulet on the floor."

Active Verbs: Challenge yourself to rewrite sentences using more active, specific verbs. i.e., "She walked into the room" (telling) could become, "She strutted into the room, her boot heels clicking against the marble floor" (showing).

Sensory Details: Choose a setting, real or fictional, and describe it using all five senses. What can a character see, smell, hear, taste, and touch in this environment, or moment?

Dialogue: Use dialogue to reveal information about your characters and the plot. Instead of telling the reader that a character is upset, show it through what the character says and how they say it.

In-Depth Character Description: Take a character from your story and describe them in detail. Show their personality through their actions, speech, and appearance, rather than direct statements.

Rewrite Telling Sentences: Take a piece of your own writing or a passage from a book and identify the "telling" sentences. Rewrite them in a way that "shows" instead.

Hope this helps! ✍(◔◡◔)

#writing #creative writing #writing tips #writing advice #writing help #writing resources #writing tips and tricks #on writing #writers #ao3 writer #ao3 fanfic #archive of our own #fanfic

[kathywaller1]

Beware This Boy

  Spirit of Christmas Present: Will you profit by what I’ve shown you of the good in most men’s hearts? Ebenezer Scrooge: I don’t know. How can I promise? Spirit: If it is too hard a lesson for you to learn, then learn this lesson. Scrooge: Spirit are these yours? Spirit: They are man’s. They cling to me for protection from their fetters. This boy is ignorance. This girl is want. Beware them…

View On WordPress

#A Christmas Carol #Alistair Sim #British literature #Charles Dickens #Christmas stories #English literature #Ghost of Christmas Present #Literature #short stories

[coeluvr]

Hello, everyone!

Here is what the update entails:

3 Short Stories

Character Codex [ The ROs and other characters ]

World Codex [ Geography and Arcana (passt the cult ✨️) ]

New look for the Profile section

Updated the variables and slight chapter changes

The Shorts and the Codexes unlock as you play the game so you will have to restart the game and play from the very beginning.

[ Play Here ]

For a more detailed report look below!

• The 3 short stories went under a few changes so it is more cohesive within the game.

For example:

Helios apologizes no matter which route you take in The Lake

There is a bit more about Hunter in the 18th Birthday + the wording was changed + a few choices on how MC feels about their relationship with Hunter

New information in the Birthday Ball short regarding E's family.

• The Character Codex undoubtedly took much more of my time because I kept trying different things lol. I am quite pleased with the RO pages while the others leave much to be desired by me but that will be fixed in the next main chapter update hopefully. I was originally going to add character stories for the non RO characters but I felt bad only doing it for a select few non RO characters so I decided to go with another approach which will hopefully add information into their pages as the story unfolds.

• Regarding the World Codex, it has limited information at the moment but I think it is all the additional information people will need to start speculating in their heads hehe. Again, more information will be added as the story unfolds.

• The profile section felt a bit messy to me so I decided to cut down on words and make it simple and easy to read so that's all.

• I updated the variables for a childhood crush on Hunter and Fadiya + added a new reserved variable which came to replace my old quiet variable which was not being used enough despite it being needed.

Also before when you played the game there wasn't an option to NOT pick freckles/beauty marks so there is one now.

I also added a tiny tiny bit more context to the whole Naima suggesting journal thing + in terms of journal names, I removed the #2 so it is plain Alistair now.

• Fixed some random bugs and typos I cannot remember. If you do find any let me know!

#crown of ashes and flames #interactive fiction

[tales-of-osinia]

"In Scorching Waters" is an +18 interactive fiction fantasy story, featuring adventure, magic, and romance.

Demo coming soon. Inbox open for questions! (Minors, please DNI)

You are a deserter. You want nothing to do with the Kingdom and its army, with battle magic, or with the past life you’ve buried. That is, until one day you return home to find an old friend waiting for you by your doorstep, with a proposition that will have you putting your old skills to use in exchange for valuable information on your long-lost family.

After being taken from your family at a young age, you spent many years of your life honing your magic skills for combat and then serving in the army of the Kingdom of Keth. For a long time during the current war efforts against the Kingdom of Ashara, you had served your nation loyally – willingly or not –, until something made you turn your back on it.

It’s been four years since you started living a quiet, discrete life on an island far away from Keth’s influence. That is, until you return home one day to find Al, an old friend from the army, waiting for you by your doorstep, with a proposition that will have you putting your old skills to use in exchange for valuable information on your family.

The situation, as it stands: Al’s uncle, an important political figure in Keth, has been captured by a group who now hold the power to destroy their family’s political standing within the Kingdom – and that would be a best-case scenario. With negotiations for his release falling apart, Al has gathered a team of people who all depend on and/or would benefit from their family maintaining political power, and is planning to sail across the seas to release said uncle from captivity. They are asking you to join this quest, and in exchange, they promise you nothing short of your greatest wish: information on the family you were torn away from more than a decade ago.

Join in on a rescue mission that will have you sailing through dangerous seas, with mostly strangers for company.

Boost team morale and learn to work as a unit to survive the dangers of the journey, or face the consequences.

Face magically-induced weather events, mystical beasts, human criminals, and more.

Restore your years-long friendship with an old army companion, or push them even further away.

Pursue romance with someone from your new team (with two someones, perhaps), or have a fling with one of the crewmates.

And most importantly: make sure the mission succeeds and you survive to get the information that made you tag along on this journey in the first place.

Play as a man, woman, or non-binary person. Pick your character’s name, gender, pronouns, appearance, and sexual orientation.

Decide your combat magic specialization: play as an Elementalist, balancing the duality of fire and ice to unleash both frost and infernos on your enemies; a Countermage, proficient in shielding and warding yourself and your allies, and in negating magical effects; or an Electromancer, an expert in manipulating charges, currents, and electricity to wield lightning with your bare hands.

Choose how to approach your new companions: be cold, be rude, keep a professional distance, create new friendships, or perhaps do some flirting.

Different romances available: a friend from your old life, whom you estranged after disappearing without saying goodbye; a scholar turned outlaw, disenchanted and hardened after his fall from grace; or a sweet nomad, who despite spending most of their time alone in the wilderness, is the most excited one about the current company. (possible additions in the future)

Al, the Old Friend (Alistair/Alissa) – M/F, he/him or she/her. RO.

Dark brown skin. Coiled black hair, oval-shaped face. Alistair has a short, well-kept beard. Round dark brown eyes, straight eyebrows, long eyelashes, and a button nose. And the perfect posture of someone who has spent all their life training on how to present themselves in front of the masses. Alistair: 5’9, Alissa: 5’6.

Al comes from a prestigious family with a long, respected political history in the Kingdom of Keth, and they have spent their entire lives preparing for an eventual future in politics like the rest of their family. Al was one of the first people you met when you left the academy to join the mage army, and the two of you grew very close over the years serving in the same squad. And then you fled from the Kingdom without saying goodbye.

Possible variations: 1. close friends; 2. close friends and MC was in love with Al; 3. close friends in love, but neither tried to cross the final line. (Note: this choice won’t lock you out of romancing other characters/lock you into romancing Al.)

Kaden, the Outlaw – M, he/him. RO.

Light beige skin. Slightly rectangular face shape, with a square chin, with a cleft. Hooded, upturned brown eyes, with dark upward eyebrows. Starting to develop soft frown lines between the eyes due to constant frowning (both out of annoyance and due to his mild nearsightedness). Shoulder-length, straight black hair, kept partially tied back. 5’11.

Kaden was once a brilliant historian and archaeologist, but he stepped on too many powerful toes in his attempts to disseminate his research. His dismissal from the field, academia, and eventually from the Kingdom’s capital was as quiet and surreptitious as the removal of his publications from bookshelves.

His reason for joining in on this dangerous quest isn’t clear, but it certainly isn’t out of affection or respect for Al.

Castis/Catalina, the Nomad – M/F, he/him or she/her. RO.

Light, tanned skin. Heart-shaped face, with a pointy chin. Almond-shaped green eyes, thick rounded eyebrows, and a straight nose. Freckles all over the face and shoulders. Wavy, light brown hair that reaches a little below the shoulders. Castis: 5’10, Catalina: 5’9.

C is a sweet, approachable person, eager to socialize with anyone who gives them the chance to; it is both odd and impressive that someone who spends all their time alone in the wilderness can have such people skills. Despite being on a quest that may very well send them to their death in waters far away from the woods they are used to, they are very enthusiastic about the adventure to come.

This story is rated +18. It will feature strong language, violence, and (optional) sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.

Once the demo is out (and as it gets updated over time), I'll also be updating the content warnings, which will include a list of potentially sensitive topics.

#interactive fiction #choicescript #if wip #interactive novel #if #dashingdon #in scorching waters if #tales of osinia #tales of osinia: in scorching waters

[zevraholics]

ZevWarden Week 2023

What is it? A week (this year, November 5th - 11th) of creating new content, sharing it, and celebrating the wonderful relationship between Zevran Arainai and Grey Warden(s) of your choice. How to participate: Feel free to follow the daily prompts as inspiration for whatever ZevWarden-related content your heart desires. Fics, art, meta discussions - everything goes! Remember to tag your works appropriately (ie. #nsfw. Also see our full tag list here.) Most of all, have fun!

Prompts:

Sunday, November 5: Tradition and Trying New Things

Monday, November 6: Secrets, Kept and Told

Tuesday, November 7: Fear and Safety

Wednesday, November 8: Work and Pleasure

Thursday, November 9: Bodies and Minds

Friday, November 10: Favourite Things and Pet Peeves

Saturday, November 11: Family, Lost and Found

Tag your content with #zevwarden week 2023 or @zevraholics on your post and we’ll reblog it here.

*Any art found to be whitewashing Zevran will not be shared.

Day 1 - Sunday, November 5 - Tradition and Trying New Things

"It's Antivan tradition to throw coins in such a well as this. Supposedly it brings one luck." Which traditions (cultural, familial, personal) do Zevran and the Warden have in common, and which are different? Are there any that are unfamiliar at first, but one of them shares with the other? What are ways the two of them break with the past, forge their own paths, or maybe even create new traditions?

Day 2 - Monday, November 6 - Secrets, Kept and Told

Morrigan, "Are [the Crows] so powerful simply because they are very good at what they do? Or is there some secret to their power?" Zevran, "If there were a secret, it would only remain so if it were not told, my dear." What secrets do Zevran and the Warden keep from other people? From each other? Are there any consequences of keeping secrets, positive or negative? What truths eventually reach the light of day, and how does that reveal come about?

Day 3 - Tuesday, November 7 - Fear and Safety

"You mean you want to hear about the grueling training? Being locked in an oubliette for weeks at a time? The slavery? The festering injuries? Or are we seeking something more glamorous?" / "Oh, those things never happened to me." There are stand-out moments of fear in the life of any Grey Warden or an Antivan Crow. Share a time one or both of them were terrified. Did they face fear bravely, or did it get the better of them? What was the impact of that moment? Or, share a story about a time the two of them found safety, comfort, or calm. How did that feeling come about? Was it short-lived or long lasting?

Day 4 - Wednesday, November 8 - Work and Pleasure

"Falling down a flight of stairs is an adventure. Falling into someone's bed? Also an adventure. I am assuming what you're looking for are professional anecdotes." How much adventuring do Zevran and the Warden get up to after Origins, either together or on their own? What jobs or titles do they come to have, what anecdotes do they have to tell? Or do they settle down for a quiet life somewhere—either restlessly or happily?

Day 5 - Thursday, November 9 - Bodies and Minds

Alistair, "So those... designs you have all over your back..." Zevran, "They're called tattoos. And I have them in many more places than just on my back, my friend." What stories do Zevran and the Wardens' bodies tell? How have their bodies changed over time? How do they carry themselves, or use gestures or mannerisms? What about a time when they ran, swam, fought, or enjoyed other physical movement? Or focus your work on a part of the body - eyes, hands, hair, scars.

Day 6 - Friday, November 10 - Favorite Things and Pet Peeves

"I fancy many things. I fancy things that are beautiful and things that are strong. I fancy things that are dangerous and exciting.Would you be offended if I said I fancied you?" What are Zevran and the Warden's favorite things about each other? How did they discover those favorite things—slowly over time, or in one particular moment? What things get on their nerves about the other person? Is this something they make an effort to change, or does their partner just have to learn to live with it?

Day 7 - Saturday, November 11 - Family, Lost and Found

"Surely your life has not been so idyllic? People like you and I are not the product of happy lives of contentment, after all." Maybe the Warden resonates with that particular line from Zevran, maybe they don't. What does being part of a family mean to the Warden and Zevran? Does the answer change across different points in their lives? If they regard each other as part of a family, is there anyone else involved in their family? (Friends, other lovers, biological or adopted children, elders?)

#zevwarden week 2023 #zevwarden week #zevwarden #zevran x warden #zevran arainai #zevran #dragon age #dragon age origins #dragon age fanfiction #dragon age fanart #zevraholics anonymous

[rinadragomir]

My thoughts on the couples included in Better in Black for those who care

I expect you to write down yours so work work

📍Wessa

You know, as a dedicated Jessa stan I wanna say that it's okay~ Because these two were together for 50 years or sth, there's still some things to add. We might watch them in their 30s, 50s, 60s. I guess at this point both camps have around the same amount of content. Plus I'll have Jessa in twp so I'm in peace 🌱

📍Clace

All my first thoughts are over here. I'm a Clace defender, I'm their oldest stan, I'm a veteran👩‍🦳 So I feel like I have a right to say that...it was kinda unnecessary. We've witnessed every step in their relationship so far, beginning of it in TMI, gentle transition to adulthood in TDA and Tales of Shadowhunter Academy, adulthood in SOBH and proposal. So if the story isn't about their wedding then WHAT THE HELL IS IT ABOUT REALLY? And we know that they won't get married until twp.

📍Anna & Ari (Arianna!)

Hey🥺that is nice, we've seen so little of them in chain of thorns and I've loved them since their debut in 2018 in that short story. I'm very biased when it comes to TLH, cause I'm their mother. So YAY🌱they have a long way to go, Anna still needs to change a tiny little bit for them to be healthy, so I'd love to witness it

📍Jordelia

We all have known about it, because Cassie kinda promised us their story a while ago. Wedding runes scene, honeymoon, kids, mortgage etc. Go kids, slay, serve, eat and so on, I'm excited for u!

📍Sebastian & Seelie Queen

🤨🧐🤔👁👁

Yeah... That famous Sebastian &Fanbase. Like... I'm conflicted, because it's useless and doesn't make any sense even tho it might slay. Listen up, I'll show you.

Lots of people defend it by saying that it might be important for Ash's background in TWP. But... No it's not. Because this is exclusive book made for few people who were lucky and financially stable enough to get it. It won't be posted online. So most people won't read it unless someone leaks it. So there's no point for that story to be important for the plot, therefore it has nothing to do with it.

And it's definitely not "one of the most beloved" couples. BUT LIKE... WHAT IF IT SLAYS? Toxic, unhinged romance, what if I'll love it? 🤡

📍Jemma

So you see the problem? Because it's the same as Clace. What else might she add, because there's nothing. SoBH ended like yesterday. We know exactly where they live rn, their daily routine, their plans. So there's nothing to add between SOBH and twp. What will it be about? Hard to say, but I hope Cassie will come up with sth interesting for them.

📍Thomastair (why did Cassie say Alistair instead of Alastair, I'm lost help me)

Yay🥺slay, serve, eat and leave no crumbs, go, kill it idk you're doing great boys, there's so much to add and explore because they've just started dating. I'm so excited ^-^

📍Kierartkina

That is fine. No matter what I think about their relationship, because in my point of view Cristina and Kieran fell in love because Cassie said so apparently, I still don't mind them being there. Because there's also lots of things to discuss and explore. I hope the story will be soft and warm☀they've just started their advantage so it definitely makes sense

📍Sizzy

Even though we've had lots of them in TMI and Shadowhunters Academy I still think they deserve to be here. They are famous (I guess? 👁👁) and I'd like to know more about their plans for future. Simon was still a teenager in the stories collection and now I'd love to see him as a grown man being in relationship with the woman he loves.

📍Luke & Jocelyn

👁👁🤨🧐🤔👀

Well... That was... Unexpected. I guess... I've just never met their fandom but I hope it's huge af, because I don't know why else would they be here. Sophideon, Gabrily and Charlotte with Henry were supposed to be here, let's be honest. But since they're here, I do think Cassie is able to make a decent story. I expect it to be bittersweet, angsty and somehow heartwarming. I think there's nothing to say except let's wait and find out.

OVERALL I think it's pretty fine. Maximum 7/10 from me. I was ready to face the worst, but it turned out to be... Fine. So it's fine☺🌱

#seasons of shadowhunters #tsc #sobh #tlh #cassandra clare #chain of thorns #wessa #jemma #arianna #anna lightwood #ari bridgestock #jordelia #sizzy #kierarktina #thomastair #tda #tmi #the wicked powers

[thethirddoctor]

Doctor Who and the Banter Brigade

Brigadier: "Doctor, I don't think I've ever seen you so quiet. Something on your mind?"

Doctor: "Oh, just contemplating the mysteries of the universe, Brigadier."

Brigadier: "Well, don't strain yourself, Doctor. We wouldn't want you collapsing from all that deep thought."

Doctor: "Ha! Very amusing, Brigadier. But I'll have you know that I have a mind like a steel trap. It's just a bit rusted at the moment."

Brigadier: "Yes, I'm sure. But let's hope it doesn't snap shut on you one of these days, eh?"

Doctor: "Oh, very droll. You know, Brigadier, sometimes I wonder if you're more suited to the music hall than the military."

Brigadier: "Oh, I don't know about that, Doctor. I've always had a way with a rifle."

Third Doctor: Brigadier, have you ever considered that your militaristic approach to problem-solving may not always be the best option?

Brigadier: Doctor, have you ever considered that your whimsical approach to problem-solving may not always be the best option?

Third Doctor: Well, I suppose there's a time and a place for whimsy.

Brigadier: And there's a time and a place for discipline.

Third Doctor: Ah, but too much discipline can lead to rigidity.

Brigadier: And too much whimsy can lead to chaos.

Third Doctor: I prefer to think of it as "flexibility."

Brigadier: And I prefer to think of it as "order."

Third Doctor: I suppose we'll just have to agree to disagree, Brigadier.

Brigadier: Indeed, Doctor. Though I have a feeling we'll continue to have these spirited debates.

Third Doctor: And I wouldn't have it any other way.

#the doctor #doctor who #bbc doctor who #classic doctor who #the third doctor #short story #dr who brigadier #brigadier alistair gordon lethbridge stewart #gallifrey #nuwho #new who #classic who #dw short story #dw fandom #fan fiction #fiction #funny #comedy #jon pertwee #third doctor jon pertwee #doctorwho #dw rp #dw #science fiction #science #open roleplay #the good doctor #unit hq #united intelligence taskforce #thread: calling unit

[blue-rose-soul]

lucifer and alistair interactions in the kid alistair au?

"What in the unholy hell is that!?" Lucifer demanded, turning to the sinners for explanation.

Warped, darkened wood and animal skeletons stood in stark contrast to the elegant reds and golds that made up the rest of the hotel, the scent of rot and decay lingering around the bar. The unholy abomination looked like it had been sliced out of some backwoods horror show and plopped right in the middle of his building.

The voice that answered was not the voice he expected.

"Just some of the renovations we had done!"

Lucifer spun on his heel, thinking for a moment the voice had come from thin air before his eyes dropped to the lanky, scarlet-clad child standing in the middle of the lobby. The boy grinned up at him, hands tucked behind his back with a microphone-topped cane in his grasp.

For a moment, Lucifer felt a twinge of pity. It was a fact of life that, sometimes, children died. The clothes were polished but a bit dated; a red button up with black shorts held up by suspenders, socks that reached his knees and shiny black penny loafers, and a cute little black bow tie. The kid must have died quite a while ago. What had done him in, Lucifer wondered? Illness maybe? Abusive or neglectful parents? Perhaps a tragic accident? It didn't matter. He was in Hell. He was a sinner, no different than any other.

Sadly, even children weren't free of malice and cruelty.

"Wha- What is this? Who is this?" Lucifer asked, gesturing to the boy with his cane. "You an errand boy or something?"

"Goodness, no!" the child laughed, puffing his chest out proudly and tugging at his bow tie. "I just happen to be the host of this hotel!"

Lucifer turned to Charlie.

"This is a joke, right? Seriously, what's this kid doing here?"

He didn't miss the way the kid's eyebrow twitched, though that creepy smile never faltered.

"Uh, no, it's not a joke, Dad," Charlie said, stepping in and placing a hand on the kid's shoulder. "Alastor's been a huge help to us at the hotel."

There was a slight pause as the kid's eyes flit between Charlie and Lucifer and then... The boy's smile softened, his eyes became less severe. His cane vanished as he wrapped his arms around Charlie's, beaming.

"I saw Charlie's idea for the hotel on the picture show and I just knew I had to help! Being with Charlie is the most fun I've had in a long, long time!"

The expression on Charlie's face melted, her eyes swimming with emotion as she turned away from her father towards the brat.

"Oh, Alastor, that's so sweet!" With her free hand she patted him on the head, right between his little pronged horns.

Lucifer swore the kid shot him an impish smirk.

"Alastor's been a such huge help with the hotel," Charlie continued, gently extracting her arm from Alastor's grip so she could lead Lucifer over towards the parlor. "Without him, we'd never have been able to pretty it up this much, and we wouldn't have such a nice place to share stories and secrets and intimate feelings!"

Irritation bubbled in Lucifer's gut as Charlie gushed over the brat. He knew he was being a bit silly; it was just a kid after all. It was just... He hadn't seen Charlie in such a long time, and he couldn't help but be a bit greedy for her attention. He soaked in her affection as she wrapped him in a hug, forcing himself to relax a bit and then-

"Happy to be of service!"

Lucifer jumped as the kid appeared between him and Charlie in a plume of black fog. He stumbled, landing on his ass with an undignified yelp as the kid snickered.

"Charlie's ideas are strange, but that's what makes them wonderful!" the brat chirped, latching onto Charlie's newly freed arm. "Anyone would be lucky to be a part of her project from the very beginning like I was!"

Okay, that was definitely on purpose, and Lucifer definitely caught that snotty little smirk the brat shot him that time! With a growl, he pulled himself to his feet, openly glaring at the rotten little creep.

"Didn't your parents teach you any manners, you little brat!?" Lucifer snarled, jabbing a finger at the kid. The kid's eyes narrowed, lips curling into something resembling a snarl.

"Dad, relax!" Charlie cut in, and the kid's expression relaxed instantly. "He's just playing around. C'mon, why don't I introduce you to everyone else?"

As she turned towards the rest of her little gaggle of condemned souls, the little red-haired brat shot Lucifer a sharp glare over his shoulder.

Then the little shit stuck out his tongue.

Lucifer seethed.

Oh, it was on!

#ask #anonymous #Hazbin Hotel #Kid Alastor AU #Lucifer Morningstar #Charlie Morningstar #Alastor #my writing #ficlet #this is really more just the first meeting but I have some thoughts for a brief continuation #tomorrow though 'cause I really shoulda gone to sleep a while ago whoops

[twochildreninamoteldemo]

what’s on your personal list of “must reads” for wincest? i have a feeling you’ve got good taste

- @spn2006

i wouldn't necessarily say i have a must-read list as in everyone has to read something, because everybody has different taste, especially when it comes to sam and dean's dynamics (both sexual and otherwise), but the fics that i would heartily recommend that fall into my reading of supernatural (or adjacent to it) go as such, keeping in mind that I am a samgirl, pretty much only care about early seasons, and enjoyer of the family horror of the show:

The Ballad of the Invisible Boy + Two Headed Boy by @dollyluxed

If i had to pick any fic as a must-read for a samgirl cestie, this would be the one. the yearning and desperation speak deeply to the isolation of samdean's youth, especially how sam feels it, and dollylux isn't afraid to get inside the beast of teen angst, which makes it feel really lush and visceral. the 90s nostalgia is excellent (disclaimer: i was born after the 90s, but it made me feel like i was there without being corny), and the way the story is told through several vignettes feels a lot like the show itself. these kind of snapshot short films of how samdean's codependency develops through this unspoken tension over the years. the stanford era portion has a scene i think about every time i listen to joni mitchell (check out the soundtrack for this duology too; it's excellent), and the season 1 section ties together the story in a way that fits well with the show. a slow burn, really beautiful story, and i love the illustrations. i would also recommend dollylux's shorter works for amazing smut:)

@applecrumbledore 's fanficography

The first of Roni's fics I read were "Dream fuckery" and "Drywall dust" (the latter the first of a 4-part preseries story), and the balance of angst, sexual tension, and humor blew me away. It keeps the tone of supernatural, which a lot of fics don't (which is fine), but this was super cool in that it felt extremely natural, and very fun to read. I haven't been updated in all my fanfic reading lately, but I loved the beginning of Pine Sweat, their time travel fic, and "try asking," their pov outsider fic, is fucking hilarious and exhilarating. they have lots of creative ideas from preseries to late seasons and it never gets old!

Gospel Truth by @cowboyified

A case fic with an accute sense of shame embedded within angst, a really great sense of description, and perfectly inspired by art by @thegoodthebadandtheart for the reverse bang a couple years ago. the aesthetic of both frauke's work and the fic itself feel real, both the openness of the great plains and the claustrophobia of incestuous pining. definitely a modern classic.

"Buy You a Mockingbird" by candle_beck

the dark pov outsider fic to crown all others. candle_beck is an amazing writer and i also recommend all their work, but this one in particular stands out because of the horror of the dramatic irony of the story--what the reader knows, but the pov character does not. it's incredible to see everything unfold, and a realistic if bleak interpretation of another classic trope (which i won't name for spoiler's sake).

"Other Brothers" by @homo-pink

another incredible pov outsider fic with this beautiful sense of empathy and also a hint of adrenaline thrill. sam's cheeky and sassy and smart, and dean's cute and so in love. pov outsider weecest has the potential to be disturbing or sweet, and while this teeters the line, i think it falls into the latter category in a way that doesn't feel too saccharine.

"Three Days on the Rack" by keerawa, read by Reena Jenkins

I'd highly recommend listening to this via podfic! reena is great and there's a lovely cello cover of fade to black by metallica that plays in the interlude. anyway, the fic is an orpheus and eurydice-adjacent story about sam trying to get dean out of hell--but it's a torture fic. i love the way it describes hell, i love the way we see dean in the depths of alistair's apprenticeship, i love sam's strength. another gorgeously dark gem.

"Skin Like Fear" [orphaned]

I can't speak much on this one because I don't remember it super well, but it's a take on samdean after sam's hell trauma, something not very touched on by the fandom, and the horror is super well done, it's a great fic. obviously dark, deals with rape aftermath, proceed accordingly.

"show me again, shame takes hold" by objectlesson

if you can't tell yet, i really love preseries fics. this one is a lesbian femchesters AU, butch dean i love u foreverrrrrr. as you can tell by the title, more angst, more shame, etc etc. i was catholic what can i say. there's a lot about the ambiguity of sexuality and gender in this fic too.

and that's it! some of my other favorites are "Tomcat," the Caged Desires series, "The Truth in His Bones," and Brothers, but those i wouldn't necessarily rec on a wide basis because the first one is specifically about transmasculinity, and the second 3 deal with dom!dean/sub!sam dynamics in a pretty sharp way that everyone may not sit with right. that being said they're wonderful and sexy (and the last two, rather sad). let me know what u thought of this list!

#fanfic recs #wincest #samdean #a prayer for which no words exist #letters #spn2006 #fic recs

[alistairs-raven]

Lunar Eyes

The story of why my Alistair and Hattie designs have mirrored dead eyes.

Story also available on AO3

No triggers. PG

I truly hope you all enjoy it!

---

It was his first day at Gracey Manor, or rather it was the first for everyone. Hundreds of spirits had been summoned to the house and they had quickly made themselves at home. Some of them sat together and talked, while others danced and sang. There were shy ghosts as well, who found quieter places in the house. He was one of these spirits, and he had found the attic most to his liking.

The Hatbox Ghost was his name or simply Hattie by his friends. He was a short man, made even shorter as he braced himself against his cane. Upon his balding head was a tall top hat that made him more noticeable, but his most unique trait was the hatbox that gave him his name. Hatbox’s mortal life had ended when he was murdered by an axe to the neck, and now his head had a nasty habit of falling off. To the delight of his visitors, it would land in his hatbox before returning to his shoulders. 

In stark contrast, there was another spirit who shared his space in the attic. To some she would appear a fearsome presence. She stood tall in the wedding dress she had lost her life in, and her visibly beating heart glowed in her chest. It was for this trait that she came to be known as the Beating Heart Bride. But to Hatbox, she was Emily, his closest and dearest friend.

As the day’s guests left and the house became truly theirs, the happy haunts were free to simply enjoy each other's company. The sounds of the other ghosts moving about and laughing was distant, which suited the pair in the attic just fine. Emily smiled happily as she heard the sound of his cane on the hard wooden floor as he approached. Ever a gentleman, the man set his hatbox down and tipped his hat to her. As he did, his head fell into the hatbox, causing Emily to giggle as she returned the greeting, taking her long gown in her hand before bending into a curtsy. 

“I wasn’t sure at first but I think I’m going to like this place.” Hatbox answered the question before Emily could ask it.

He saw the visible relief upon her face as she replied. “I like it here as well. We have a home now.” For so long they had been wandering spirits. Always together and forever in close sync, tragedy had bound them together. 

Gently setting the candle and bouquet of flowers she held onto a nearby table, Emily turned to gaze out the window. Outside the full moon shone bright against a clear night. Hatbox came to her side and took her hand. She looked at him, pleased to see his head had returned to his shoulders. Some may have liked when his head peaked out from his hatbox, but she knew he preferred that it stay attached. She squeezed his boney hand, enjoying the peaceful moment. They were quieter ghosts. Not much needs to be said when one knows another soul so well. 

“They’re dancing downstairs.” Hatbox broke the silence. “They’ve been dancing all day down in the ballroom.” “Do you think we should go down and join them?” Emily asked. After such an eventful day she would be surprised if he did.

Hatbox laughed. “No, I want to stay up here. But I do think dancing sounds very nice.” He set the cane against the wall and took Emily’s other hand in his. 

The pair danced together as the light of the moon cast their shadows across the room. They could have danced together until the end of time and Hatbox would have been happy.

But like mortal life, everything has an end, and the night they danced was the last time Hatbox ever saw Emily. 

Decades passed, generations of mortals came and went, and the happy haunts continued their joyous fun. No one seemed to notice that Hatbox left the mansion and never returned. No one except Emily. She waited for him, the glowing heart in her chest dimming. One day it went dark and the Beating Heart Bride faded away. 

—

When Hatbox returned to Gracey Manor few remembered him, but those who did were overjoyed. He quickly found himself overwhelmed by ghosts and mortals alike wishing to see him. Wishing for some quiet, he returned to his preferred spot in the attic only to find it inhabited by a stranger. 

Constance was her name. At first sight she could have been mistaken for Emily, but Hatbox knew immediately this wasn’t his soul mate. She was a cold, cruel woman who in life had killed multiple husbands. In her hand she carried the axe used for the crimes. The sight of it made Hatbox’s neck hurt, and he kept as much distance as he could from her. 

“I can’t find Emily, have you seen her?” Hatbox found himself wandering the hallways that night, asking everyone he could find if they’d seen her.

“Yes, I’ve seen her. She was looking for you.” The Host Ghost was the first to provide some much needed answers. He had been one of the few to recognize Hatbox when he returned, and he inwardly kicked himself for not realizing earlier that this was the man to ask about anything in the mansion. 

“Oh wonderful! Where is she now?” Hatbox asked, his grin wide. It slowly faded as Host rubbed his chin, seemingly having trouble remembering. 

“To be honest, I’m not sure. It’s been awhile.” “How long is awhile?” Hatbox’s voice mirrored his growing irritation.

“Years I believe. I’d have to check the records for the exact time.” Host’s voice was emotionless as he merely spouted facts. 

“YEARS?!?” Hatbox felt his temper flare.

Host raised an eyebrow, an impressive feat for a man who had a skull for a face. “Yes, that’s what I said. She was like you, just left without a word. I assumed she’d stopped waiting and finally went off to find you.”

Hatbox was shaking. Should he leave again and go after her? Or should he stay and wait for her to return? His soul felt hollow and the shaking caused his head to fall into the hatbox he carried at his side. Host patted the headless man on the shoulder.

“You returned after all these years. Perhaps she will as well?” He tried. Unfortunately offering comfort was not his forte. 

Hatbox didn’t know how to respond so he simply settled for “I’m going to return to the attic.” “Be careful up there.” Host warned. “The woman up there is a scary one. We keep her up there because she’s a bit of a buzz kill.”

“Thanks…” Hatbox’s cane thudded against the floor as he solemnly made his way up the stairs. His head had just returned to him when he entered the attic to find Constance gone. Perhaps she had decided to wander the mansion as well. She seemed the type to be where the people were-

Constance jumped out from where she’d been hiding and swung at Hatbox with her axe. The motion did nothing to a ghost, but unfortunately it startled him enough that he leapt back and his head fell off once more. The woman laughed darkly. “Oh, you’re going to be fun.” She shoved past him and he watched as she made her way down the stairs and disappeared, leaving him alone. If only he could lock her out for good. 

Hatbox made his way to the window, his head returning as he set the hatbox down. He reached out with his hand and gently touched the cold glass. That night felt like it had just happened. How could it have been years? Outside the moon emerged from behind the clouds. It was a full moon, just like that night, and the irony made Hatbox’s dead heart hurt even more.

The sounds of the other ghosts became background noise as he got lost in his thoughts. He was only brought out when the grandfather clock rang midnight, and the chime echoed powerfully throughout the manor. As he listened he noticed the lights above him sway. With the last chime of the clock they went from yellow to bright purple. 

Hatbox didn’t have much time to ponder before he felt strange. It was like he was being pulled away from the manor once more and he panicked. No! He couldn’t leave. He needed to stay in case Emily returned. He resisted the pull but it quickly became too strong. In his ear he heard a cruel laugh that sent a chill through him. 

“Don’t fight it. You’re already suffering, it will only hurt you more.”

“Who are you?” Hatbox tried to sound strong against the dark, echoing voice.

The laugh got more boisterous. “Why, I’m you. Or rather, I am a better you. A you that is without grief.”

Hatbox felt himself fading. He no longer felt in control of himself. “What have you done?!” He shouted, the words failing to come out of his mouth. The dark entity must have heard it anyway because he responded. 

“You can leave the mansion. It’s what I desire, so I’m taking control.”

“No!” How was this even possible? “No, no, no!” Hatbox cried out again and again as he became merely an observer. 

—

Alistair Crump smiled out the window at the full moon. In the glass he could see his reflection and his smirk disappeared. The face was his but more skeletal, with no lips or eyelids. His eyes were now colorless and his hair was longer. He hoped he wouldn’t have to spend the rest of eternity looking like this. 

Stepping away from the window, the man picked up the hatbox and made his way out and down the stairs. He had just reached the bottom when Constance jumped out at him, swinging her axe with glee. Alistair didn’t even blink and instead he looked up at her with squinted eyes. “A bit more respect would serve you well. I don’t tolerate such foolishness.”

Constance blinked at the reaction, or rather the lack thereof. She opened her mouth to speak but seemed to change her mind and instead moved past him to return to her place upstairs. Alistair rolled his eyes and continued making his way through the manor. 

Alistair knew the Gracey manor well. He had spent well over a century ruling over it after all. The exit wasn’t far, but he couldn’t help wanting to have a little fun. He had a natural desire to be noticed and instead made his way to the ballroom. 

As always it was packed full of ghosts. The organ was playing, there was dancing, and of course there was an endless feast. Normally it would have been cleared out as he arrived, but now the party simply continued as he was welcomed as one of them. 

“Well if it isn’t the Hatbox Ghost, finally out of the attic.” Alistair recognized that voice and turned to look at the hitchhiking ghosts. He disliked these three because no matter what he did they never seemed bothered. But they had been quite useful to him. At least, in another afterlife.

“If I had known you three were going to be here I’d have stayed up there.” Alistair growled through his lipless teeth. 

“Uhhh” Phineas seemed too dumbfounded to say real words, but Ezra did it for him.

“Are you feeling okay, Hattie?” “Yea, I know you’ve been having a hard time looking for Emily.” Gus chimed in.

“Who’s Emily?” Alistair asked. The dumb faces he got in response made him sigh. Choosing to move on he made his way past them to the table. The lack of pillows on his favorite seat caused his hackles to raise for a moment before he remembered this wasn’t ‘his’ Gracey Manor. The ghosts here were a leaderless, chaotic lot. The thought made him sick.

“Leave and go back where you came from, then.”  Hatbox’s voice was faint in his mind but Alistair still heard him.

“I told you, we will be leaving.” His thoughts became words that Hatbox could hear. Alistair turned to leave the ballroom, suddenly no longer feeling the need to be here. He still needed to keep up appearances, and if he couldn’t rule over and torment the other ghosts what was even the point.

As he made his way to more quieter halls, Hatbox spoke to him once more. “Your name is Alistair.” 

“How do you know that?!” Alistair stopped in his tracks, his attention going completely to internal conversation. 

“We’re sharing a mind. I can see everything.” Hatbox explained. “Alistair Crump. You own a manor on the other side of the country.”

“Two can play this game, I see your memories as well.” Alistair didn’t like anyone knowing personal information about him. This seemed to be an unfortunate side effect of his spell. “I see you were a weak man with very little. But a woman foolishly fell for you anyway. Her name was… Emily.” Outside their minds an evil smirk crossed the man’s face. “She agreed to marry you but then someone murdered you both.”

Hatbox had long since come to peace with their deaths. It was nothing he could change, and as ghosts they still had eachother. At least, they did. Alistair chuckled as he saw the thoughts flash through his mind.

“She gave up on you. You left the manor and abandoned her.”

“That’s not true!” 

“Then why did you leave?” It was a genuine question disguised as a cruel one. Alistair couldn’t find anywhere in his memories why Hatbox had left, only that he had. 

“I don’t know! One moment I was happy, and the next almost 50 years had passed.” His voice shook as he added. “I would never have abandoned Emily.”

Alistair’s laugh echoed through their minds as he enjoyed the pain Hatbox felt. “For love he lost his head now this man spends his days cold and dead.”

Hatbox didn’t need to ask to know what he was talking about. He’d seen the graves. In fact, he’d seen all this man’s crimes. It filled him with disgust to know that in another time he could be like this. “You deserved to be banished.”

“I deserve revenge. I deserve respect and admiration from those too weak to seek it for themselves. My ritual failed, but once we get out of here that won’t matter.”

Alistair continued down the halls, his cane echoing as he slammed it down harder than needed to. He was almost out of here. He was finally going to be free from this wretched manor. 

He just needed to get past the seance room.

The man quieted his steps as he entered, hoping that this late at night Madame Leota would be more dormant, having spent the entire day reciting spells. He seemed to be in luck, because she didn’t seem to notice him until he was almost to the other side of the room and out the door when she spoke. “Where are you going, Hatbox?”

Alistair tried to sound friendlier. Tricking her would be far harder than the three idiots from earlier. “I’ve been looking for Emily. I wonder if she’s outside looking for me.” 

“Emily never left.” 

Inside of their shared mind, Hatbox suddenly came to attention. “Never left..?”

“I see…” Alistair responded aloud. “Well, regardless I need to step outside.”

“Do you think that’s wise?” Leota asked. “I remember when you left before.”

“You do?” Hatbox asked silently and Alistair asked aloud.

“Oh Hatbox, I should have told you before. When I summoned you here, your soul arrived different then the others. It wasn’t… complete. Part of your soul was here, and another was somewhere else. As a result, you couldn’t stay. You were cast out of the manor. But Emily is a bound soul. Without you, she faded away.” 

Hatbox tried to process as he was overcome with grief. He cried out in anguish, the sound so loud that Alistair had a hard time forming his own response. “His- My soul isn’t complete?! And you call yourself the world’s greatest medium.” 

Madame Leota recognized that voice. “Crump?!?” 

It seemed the game was up. “I decided banishment to my manor wasn’t for me. And so I’m here now, but don’t worry. I was just seeing myself out.”

“I will send you back. And keep a better watch on you this time!”

“Not without punishing an innocent soul.” Alistair laughed darkly as he felt once again he had the upper hand on the medium. 

“We shall see.” Leota began chanting, much to Alistair’s surprise. He hadn’t expected her to so willingly endanger another soul, which meant she thought this spell would work. 

“You told me his soul doesn’t belong to the manor. It won’t stay!” Alistair tried to manipulate the medium with her own words.

“Hatbox… Hattie, you have to choose.” Madame Leota’s words reached the grieving man trapped in his own mind. “Is this your home?”

The Hatbox Ghost thought back to that first night at the Gracey Manor. How Emily had called it their home now. If that’s what she had wanted, then that’s what he wanted as well. He missed her so much. He felt so hollow with the missing part of him. “Emily, this is our home.” 

“Quiet. All of you, quiet!” Alistair demanded, for once fear evident in his voice. He cried out and suddenly Hatbox was back in control of his body.

Hatbox almost fell and lost his head immediately but quickly found his legs. He looked around, recognizing the seance room. There was Madame Leota, floating in her crystal ball. But her attention wasn’t on him. He followed her gaze and he felt his dead heart jump.

There was Alistair Crump being held aloft by Emily. He writhed in her grip, trying to tear her hands away from his neck but she held him firm. 

“EMILY!” Hatbox was too elated to care about anything else. “EMILY HOW.?” “You chose to be here.” Leota spoke calmly behind them. “Your soul belongs here now and therefore, so does your soul mate.”

“You all make me sick!” Alistair snarled, still trying to get free. 

“Bring him over here, let me have a good look at him.” Leota couldn’t help the amusement in her voice as Emily brought him over and pinned him down on the table. He looked different than she remembered. His lips and eyelids were gone. His right eye was an intense yellow, but the left one was dead. Pale, like the full moon that gave him his powers. Behind him, she could see that Hatbox hadn’t been left unmarked. In an inverse, his right eye was dead and ghostly. “I’m sorry this had to happen, but I promise he will not escape this time.” 

“Don’t lie to them. This will not be the last time we see eachother.” Alistair promised as he was chained to the table by purple light. He continued to glare at Hatbox, the ghost who shared part of his soul, until he vanished. Banished back home to Crump Manor, this time they all hoped for good.

Emily turned to Hatbox, tears in both of their eyes. They embraced, her heart beating loudly against him. Decades had passed, and most had forgotten their bond. But it still burned as strong as ever. Hatbox never wanted to let her go but finally she loosened her embrace and said “Let’s go upstairs where we belong”. 

Hatbox nodded, tears wetting his eyes and face. “Thank you, Madame.” He tipped his hat to the medium.

—

Nighttime continued in the Gracey Manor. Most were oblivious to the night's happenings. As far as everyone was concerned, everything was normal. Except for Constance, who tried to tell everyone who would listen that “they” kicked her out of the attic. “We’ll just find somewhere else for you later, don’t worry.” The Host Ghost told her dismissively.

In the attic, two ghosts held hands. Emily touched Hatbox’s face, which was now changed by the pale eye. She didn’t care and told him not to worry either as she kissed him on the forehead.

In a strange way, the dark man had reunited them. Hatbox wanted to forget him as he danced with his beating heart bride once more. But as they slowly swayed together, he felt his dead right eye water. He tried to rub out whatever was in his eye when he realized they were tears. Far away, in another manor, Alistair was sad. It seemed they were bound together as well. Perhaps he was correct when he’d said they’d see eachother again some day. But for now he let those concerns fade away into the night. 

-----

Written with my friend Draco in mind. I enjoy our conversations.

#alistair crump #hatbox ghost #the haunted mansion #emily #beating heart bride #hitchhiking ghosts #ghost host #heartbox #constance #my writing

[coeluvr]

You're so wonderfully devious. Your IF is so well written. I've played through it once several months ago, lost track of it, then found it again 🤗 but seriously, the complex emotions you pull out of me is what makes me keep coming back.

There's no time to not grieve for the MC. And your time jumps make it so no matter how much time has passed for MC, we don't get that relief. It makes me wonder if the MC feels that way all the time for the last 9 years if the grief we experience is just as intense. So I absolutely adore how you give MCs the ability to name a journal Alistair and to have a tattoo to keep them with you.

I don't know what to do with Rosea. I think the only way to hurt Luceris is by hurting the ones they love, Lancelot and Helios. But then this cycle of revenge continues and warps, and it's this massive spiders web because when you hurt Lancelot and Helios, then you hurt Farah, Vincent, and Hunter. It makes even more people want to put a stop to MC's machinations.

I know we're going to see it in writing, but the generational guilt on these kids [cause fuck they are basically still kids] heads is crushing.

The adults trying to alleviate guilt by saying "Mc is protected as consort" and has the "freedom to do what they want" is a poor consolation prize. They can't get rid of how they were complicit in MCs trauma.

Somehow, you have me litterally insane, tinfoil hat and all, do you play a kind MC so everyone can see how unhinged Luceris idea was? Because I'd love to play this game as quiet and kind MC, one who's forgive and try to move on, but when MCs twin died, I became just as crazy as Luceris. Now I have to be okay with the fact that I'm playing the long game of revenge and whatever that looks like.

Anyway, thank you for your work. It's amazing and I can't wait to see what happens next.

My toxic trait is I like being called evil or devious or anything insane. 🥰 Thank you for your kind words! 💗

Honestly, the time jumps do serve that purpose. Mainly because I think MC gets a little better each time jump but then something happens and it brings back what they felt that night in Vesphire.

For example, the time jump to meeting Fadiya is kind of supposed to be like "well at least someone wants to be friends with our baby" and that feeling is kind of hopeful, at least to me. With the 1st short story, I wanted to cement that feeling since it's like "world against MC but this little kid is here!!" and again it's hopeful. Chapter 2 is softer too with Fadiya, there isn't much angst until the very end where it's like "ah right, shit still sucks." and a part of the healing that the player might have felt just dies lol.

Chapter 3 is kind of different but technically MC is doing "better" or well coping better so there has been some progress on their part albeit it can be unhealthy.

I've gotten the "Oh this is kinda rushed" comment a few times but I don't think I could've taken these first few chapters more slowly since it is supposed to be kind of like a blur to MC. In my head, chapter 3 is when things are more slow for them but now they're leaving on a trip so...

I think revenge (that isn't like "get power throw him into jail") will always come with the loss of people. The only reason Luceris didn't lose people is because he didn't really have anyone to lose except for Lancelot and we all know how that's going. (Ikram doesn't count, if she refused he could just get another military general and been like okay. Don't be friends with your boss people. /j)

A Luceris that had Farah wouldn't have done that ever because she would have left him so yeah! It's normal to be stuck between what to do when you have people you care about who actually have somewhat of a normal moral compass.

Easiest way is to simply not have anyone (unless they're 100% in love with you and would throw away all their morals just for you ofc) and well maybe I can help with that! 🤭

The adults are insane and the kids are burdened with the problems that their parents are to blame for. I love the whole "burdened by the sins of your parents" trope. ✨️

God this got a bit too long lmao 😭 it was fun discussing some of the points. 🤝

#coe answers #coaaf if: mc #coaaf if: luceris #crown of ashes and flames #coaaf #diebytheshield

[visceralcoma]

Because OP blocked me. I decided to make my own post to debunk every single one of their points. source in case you wanted to see their foolishness directly.

Transcript:

"buh buh buh Dreadwolf not Baldur's Gate 3" You're right, Dreadwolf won't be Baldur's Gate 3. Dreadwolf won't be a game where the creators were so uninvested in a non-white woman's story that they refused to actually finish her storyline and then declared that her being condemned to slavery was the ending she "deserved". Dreadwolf won't be a game that's obsessed with victimizing and slaughtering members of an oppressed minority, all while portraying them as leeches and criminals preying on the people providing them with refuge. Dreadwolf won't be a game where an entire foreign culture is portrayed as irredeemably savage and evil, and where a character of that culture's "good" ending is to abandon her culture for that of western-/white-coded society. Dreadwolf won't be a game that constantly romanticizes emotionally manipulative and abusive white men, placing them at the forefront of stories while constantly portraying women in positions of power as evil and stupid bitches. Dreadwolf won't be a game that vilifies a matriarchal society, especially one of dark-skinned women, while at the same time treating them as sex objects even in the context of them abusing prisoners. Dreadwolf won't be a game where the amount of story content and dialogue a character receives is dictated entirely by their skin colour. Dreadwolf won't be a game where an evil character is heavily queer-coded, with a backstory filled to the brim with allusions to homophobic stereotypes about gay men being manipulative and predatory. Dreadwolf won't be a game that uses a female character to paint a male character as being totally awesome and totally smart, then writes that female character as not only a total bitch but short-sighted and stupid as well. Dreadwolf won't be a game where the roles of recurring characters and whether they return as playable characters or reduced to shallow villains isn't dictated by whether or not they're white. So yeah, Dreadwolf won't be like Baldur's Gate 3, because it is not made by and for shitty people.

Lets go down the line of their "points"

Isabella, when she was given to the Qunari in DA2.

City Elves, insanely victimized and deemed criminals by in world humans. And they (and Dalish) are often slaughtered in the narrative by humans.

Qunari, Tevinter, you can't go five minutes without someone calling Tevinter evil or deeming any Qunari as a savage. And Iron Bull's entire arc is about him leaving the Qun as the "good" ending.

Cullen, Samson, Anders, Solas - their stories are pushed forward, despite the fact their narrative counterparts get the shit end of the stick. Vivienne, Calpurnia, Wynne, and Merrill

Rivain. and Isabella nuff said. In the comics she throws slaves overboard.

The black main character (Vivienne) in DAI has much less content in comparison to any of the white faves.

Samson is an evil character with a tranquil as his partner. As a templar he was part of the oppressor group and could be seen as grooming the mage turned tranquil. Especially when you remember that Templars often abused tranquil, and then what happens in DAI to tranquil.

Merrill vs Solas in terms of the Eluvians. Or, Morrigan vs Solas. Take your pick.

I present to you, Varric, Leliana, Cullen, Samson, as recurring again over multiple games. All white, or at the very least light complected. Then the ambiguously brown characters who only got cameos: Alistair and Zevran. And then the sole brown/black character cameo got shunted to multiplayer only, Isabella.

This person clearly never played dragon age and are pretending to in order to make this post for clout.

#bg3 #dragon age #baldur's gate 3 #dragon age dreadwolf #bioware #larian studios #baldur's gate