#My pitiful attempt at a background lol

[im-not-dead-yet]

i got a little too silly

[uas-art]

Based on a comment by DJSuperQueenXD on reddit!

I finished this a week ago or so, but didn't post it until playing through the new DCL and reading the interactive comic to make sure the one old god I choose wasn't given some new lore lol

Image IDs:

A 6 page comic, shaded in black and white and Grey screen tones.

Page 1:

Kallamar is posing with his arms out. He wears a necklace, arm bands, and bracelets with pearls and gems on them. He proclaims, "TA-DA! The Lambs newest attempt to gain my favor was gifting me crystals from my lovely Anchordeep! I made jewelry from them! What do you think?"

Panel 2 has follower form Shamura staring forward with a question mark over their head. Narinder is walking by in the background looking sideways at the scene.

Panel 3: Shamura says "It's--" but is cut off by Narinder leaning in panel saying"*Gawdy*".

Panel 4: Kallamar crossed his arms and says "Tch! I wasn't showing you! I was showing Shamura!" while Shamura turns towards Narinder.

Page 2

Panel 1 narender lens forward with his hand on his chest and says oh I am so sorry Elder brother! Please allow me to try again. Panel too narender has his arms held out and cheerfully says "wow Kallamar I thought we killed the old god of beauty and removed 'true beauty' from the world but you have proven me wrong! amazing! "

panel 3 Narinder has his hand on his hip and looks smug he says "there. happy? that was sarcasm by the way"

Panel 4 Kallamar looking angry saying "you are such an as--" while tomorrow tilt their head looking Confused

Panel 5 Shamura, looking more confused and upset says "old god of beauty... who?" To which Kallamar reaches out and replies "theyre no one don't worry about it" Shamura repeats in a shaky speech bubble "Old God... Of Beauty... Who?"

Panel 6 shamura has one hand at their bandaged head and one at their shirt. They are upset and panting. They say "the old god of beauty? Who? Who? I... I knew them. I know them. We met many times, didn't we? Uuh... Err..."

Panel 7, Shamura grabs at their bandages and shirt collar. Their eyes are wide and teary. Black blood oozes down the middle of their face. The line art in this panel is scratchy.

Shamura says "but what was their name? I... I can't...I can't remember their... Um... No... They were... Who?"

Page 3

Shamura is slumped to their knees on the grass while Kallamar has his hand on their back and on their arm, soothing them with "there, there. It's alright. Deep breathes Shamura."

Panel 2, Narinder looks on guilty.

Panel 3: Narinder looks to the side with a sigh.

Panel 4: Narinder sits next to his siblings, rubbing his neck. Kallamar glares while Shamura looks at their hands with eyewides.

Narinder says. "Aetherile. Their name was Aetherile. In their vanity, they called themself the god or beauty. Really they were the good of something else. But it doesn't exist anymore, so it doesn't matter."

Page 4

Panel 1 in the foreground, Narinder rubs is arm, looking up and to the side. In the background, a younger bishop Shamura holds their arms out behind a younger Narinder, holding an axe, and younger Kallamar, holding a sword. The screen tone on them is offset to show this is a memory

Narinder says "They were the first of the gods you declared war on after we met and you, Kallamar, and I became siblings. They were the first I got to help fight."

Panel 2 in the foreground Narinder holds up his hand. This time he looks down and two the side as he speaks.

In the background, a younger Narinder holds up a Hertics Heart. He has blood on his chest and chin and his shirt is cut. A younger Shamura looks on please while a younger Kallamar pouts behind them. Their toning is also offset.

Narinder continues, "you let me take their heart, even though Kallamar dealt the final blow. You thought 'Death Devouring Beauty' was a poetic end and I should take it instead."

Page 5

Panel 1, Narinder looks down and says "I know now you only gave it to me out of pity for my youth and to motivate me." Kallamar, a hand still on Shamura's arm, looks to the side and mumbles "that and you got yourself cleaved in two at the shoulder." Shamura is bend over with their face shadowed.

Panel 2: Shamuras face is zoomed in on. Their upper face is still in shadows. They say "... No..."

Panel 3 Shamura wipes the blood from the middle of their face with their shirt, looking much calmer, as they say "I remember now. That's not what happened, well, not exactly"

Panel 4: Kallamar and Narinder are shocked and both cry "WHAT?!"

Panel 5 the upper quarter of Shamuras face is in the corner. They are looking down. A younger Narinder is behind them. Leaning on his axe and looking idly at his claws. The toning of offset on him, and a copy of the line art offset as well. A noise layer is applied over the memory.

Shamura says "We only defeated Aetherile because Narinder made them angry--too angry to think clearly."

In a soft edge speech bubble Narinder says "A god of beauty? Ha! I guess you'll make a pretty enough corpse--for a hag anyway!" the text is faded and has an offset copy over it.

Shamura continues "Is what he said. They were so upset that they only attacked him, leaving an opening for Kallamar to deal the fatal attack"

Page 6

Panel 1 Shamura beans, holding up their hands. They chuckle and say "What a nice memory!"

Panel 2 Shamura pets Narinders head by his ear. He is Suprised.

Panel 3: Shamura puts a hand on Kallamar's shoulder. Kallamar smiles with a sign and has his hand on their arm.

Panel 4: the three are sitting side by side in the grass. Shamura with their hand on Narinders head and Kallamar's shoulder. Thwir shadows extend behind them, with smiles draw on each on as Shamura repeats "...A nice memory..."

[wardenswateringhole]

I would love a little drabble about taking care of a sick Ingo (BW Ingo or PLA Ingo, not picky!). He'd hate being unable to take care of the reader but he secretly likes being taken care of, even if he doesn't want to admit it at first. ;w;

(While I do have something already written here, I think this does call for a couple of more flavorful bits. The rolling storms and pollen allergies actually helped in writing this one. lol.)

SUBWAY BOSS INGO

Ingo groaned as he tried to get out of bed. His head was heavy and muscles were sore. His voice was distorted from nasal congestion. Ingo still rose, slowly and painfully. His uniform was put on slowly as he braced himself against the edge of the bed. A loud sneeze sent him tumbling backward onto the bed and brought you running into the room. He was a sight. Sprawled spread eagle on the bed with his shirt buttoned lopsided and his pants on one leg still.

He flailed weakly like a turtle attempting to right itself after being flipped onto it’s shell. You already had your phone out and was calling Emmet. Ingo would not be coming into work today. Emmet read you loud and clear despite Ingo’s slurred protests in the background.

You helped Ingo undress and get back into bed as he continued to complain and whine. He was fine! You were overreacting! He needed to get to work! People depended on him to get things done! He was tucked in gently, not strong enough to actually fight you. You shushed him and rubbed his fevered forehead. He seem to almost purr and lean into the gesture.

“Does you head hurt?” You asked. He nodded silently, still savoring the sensation of your hand massaging his skull. You chuckled over how that was all it took to shut him up.

You left him to rest and with promises of soup and medicine. Ingo protested weakly once more, much like a child who had to miss a much anticipated field trip. His head was laid back limply against the pillow and his eyes were drifting closed before you even left the room.

You woke him later with soup you had made and medicine. You helped him sit up and sat the food tray in front of him. He knocked back the small cup of bright orange syrup before diving into the soup. You wondered how that didn’t make the soup taste bad.

“I can’t taste anything anyway…” He answered with his blunted goopy voice. “But I appreciate this very much dearest…”

You turned on a show you both liked and sat with him as he ate. Soon the bowl was empty and put aside to make room for cuddling. He grunted against your chest. “I shouldn’t be near you… I could get you sick…”

You rubbed your fingers through his hair and shushed him once more. “It would be worth it.”

Ingo’s eyes opened and looked up at you. They looked so tired and pitiful but still shined with that familiar look of love he would give you all the time. “Thank you taking care of me, my love. I will be returning the favor ten fold later.”

He put his head back down and wrapped his arms around your torso tighter. “As soon as the room stops spinning…”

----

WARDEN INGO

This could not be happening. Calaba had given him a look as soon as he began sniffling. Ingo had insisted he was fine and went on about his duties, despite Calaba warning him he would regret not resting then and there.

He regretted not resting then and there.

He rose at the sound of knocking at his door. That’s right, you were supposed to come by today. You were both going to go enjoy a day by the river. He wrapped blanket around his shoulders and answered the door.

The man looked like death warmed over. His normally bright and alert eyes looked like they were trying to slide off his face. Despite his insistence that he was fine, you managed to force your way into his home and ordered him back to bed.

Ingo awoke suddenly. He didn’t even realize he had drifted off. His home was filled with the aroma of warm food, which he could only get a faint hint of. But he recognized it. It was something you had told him was a favorite comfort food. His stomach grumbled in anticipation for the food, but some part of him felt bad. He was the one to usually cook for you…

It wasn’t long before you had a bowl ready for him. You served him his meal and took yours as well. A book was taken from a small shelf. A book you had both been enjoying together. You read to him between bites as he ate. Your voice was nice to listen too, and the embellishments you put on the descriptions of the scene were amusing, silly voices and all. Something bothered him though. He was usually the one to read to you…

The food was finished and dishes cleaned. Ingo hated watching you clean everything without being able to help out at all. Any effort to help was met with a stern warning that he would lose his legs if he got out of that bed. All he could do was watch as you cleaned the dishes and tidied up his living area. That was his job, not yours.

“Dearest. Please…” His voice warbled out, weak and croaky from sickness. “Come here.”

You did as he asked. He took your hand and rubbed his cheek into your knuckles. “I love you to the moon and back. Thank you for taking care of me so well…” His face looked up at you so pitifully. “But please… take a break… Join me for some rest?”

You couldn’t say no to such a sad pleading request. He scooted over to give you room. You both spent the rest of the evening cuddled in bed and just enjoying one another’s company. Ingo would never say it out loud, but he felt that was better than a trip to the river any day.

[jessamine-rose]

Hello! i think u wrote somewhere in ur blog that all the genshin yanderes fanfics r in the same universes right? :o If u dont mind me asking, what do u think would happens if the darlings meet? I hope its ok to ask this <3

Read my Yandere! Harbinger fics first!!

Read the second Darling Crossover here~

Aahhh thank you for asking this, Anonie!! I had originally entertained a darling crossover, but I never got to it lol. It’s much funnier to imagine the Harbingers comparing each other’s relationships xD

Here are some bullet points on the darlings’ dynamics!! I also wrote a short drabble featuring some special info ;>

✿ Damsel/ Capitano’s Darling ✿

♡ Damsel is the newest and most “mysterious” darling. She doesn’t really care about the other darlings and only treats them with basic politeness. After a few words of acknowledgement, she avoids further socialization by reading her books or sticking to Capitano’s side  -.-

♡ She isn’t fond of Kitty’s attempts at socializing, but at least the latter respects her comfort zone. After Kitty loses her Vision, Damsel can only pity her…..but then again, doesn’t she look more happy and at peace? It is better if they resign themselves to their fates.

♡ She is absolutely afraid of Dottore and his Assistant, so she often avoids them. She is unnerved by how the couple interacts with her, almost as though they are analyzing her. It is a shame given Assistant’s knowledge on plants and ancient literature.

⬩ Kitty/ Pantalone’s Darling ⬩

♡ Kitty is the friendliest darling among the three. As a Harbinger’s spouse, she finds it important to establish social connections with her fellow darlings. It could potentially benefit Pantalone’s relationship with his coworkers, after all  >:’0

♡ She has a hard time interacting with Damsel because of their stark differences. Extrovert vs. introvert, sheltered vs. independent, wealthy vs. commoner, craves attention vs. keeps to herself……at least Damsel seems nice and unproblematic.

♡ She has a better relationship with Assistant. On the rare chance that they meet each other, it is the latter who initiates a friendly conversation. She is envious of the fact that Assistant can directly work with Dottore and see him everyday.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ Assistant/ Dottore’s Darling ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ

♡ Assistant is the oldest darling among the three. Given her Fatui position and individual accomplishments, she finds it interesting to think about the other darlings’ passive roles. Upon hearing about their marriages, she considered asking Dottore for a change in their relationship status  <3

♡ She, like everyone else, is curious about Damsel’s melancholy countenance and obscure background. She promptly began to dislike her upon realizing the former’s nervousness around Dottore. She is just another simpleton who doesn’t recognize Zandik’s greatness.

♡ Her slight fascination with Kitty stems from Dottore’s assistance in Pantalone’s relationship. She was the one who helped the Doctor create the catnip-scented perfume and flammable uniform, after all~ The change in Kitty’s personality since her Vision loss is proof of a successful experiment.

⚘◈♡

“Hey, how long until the Harbingers’ meeting ends?”

The Fatui guard remains silent. Assistant adjusts her mask, turning to their coworkers.

“Why are there so many of you, anyway? Do we require that much protection? I don’t know about the other two, but I can take care of myself.”

She glances at the other two guests.  Kitty is watching her from the sofa, waiting for her to come back and resume their earlier conversation. Damsel is seated by the window, absorbed in yet another fantastical book.

Her voice lowers to a whisper. “Or are you here for surveillance? Ensuring that we won’t plan a joint escape, perhaps?”

What a ridiculous thought. Why would any of them want to leave their lovers?

No response. She sighs and walks over to the far corner of the drawing room.

“Can any of you play chess?” she asks. She takes out a chessboard and sets it on the coffee table. “If only ______ were here. She is quite the formidable opponent.”

And an interesting specimen if she were allowed to say that.

Kitty tilts her head, cat ears twitching. “______? Who is that?”

“Oh, you don’t know her?” Assistant sits on the sofa and begins arranging the chess pieces. “I suppose that makes sense. She is rarely allowed to make a public appearance, after all.”

“Are you referring to the Jester’s lover?”

When did Damsel listen in on their conversation? She looks up from her book.

“Do you know her?” asks Kitty.

She shakes her head. “Capitano only mentioned her to me once.”

The Fatui guards remain silent, but their subtle movements expose their own curiosity.

Assistant smiles at them. “Well, she is a lovely conversationalist if I do say so myself. I wonder if she gets bored staying at home all the time.”

What time is it? The Harbingers should be returning for their darlings soon. Then they can all go their separate ways and continue their blissful lives.

She holds up a white pawn, observing it under the artificial light of the room.

“Who knows? If you are lucky, you may meet her someday.”

♡

Aaahh my babies!! To think that I’d reach the point where I have three darlings with their own distinct nicknames, personalities, and twisted stories. Sadly, because of how broken and different they are, plus the rarity of their meetings, this is the closest we have to a crossover between them ʅ（◞‿◟）ʃ

And yes, I just dropped a teaser for my next yandere Harbinger fic!! I hope you’ll enjoy my next darling when I’m able to write her story~

Also, I’ll use this post to inform y’all that my AUTHOR’S NOTE for Chemistry was recently posted!! Do read it if you’d like to know the details of my Yandere! Dottore’s fic~ For some reason, the post won’t show up in the tags -.-

[tearlessrain]

what about the companion questions from the tav ask game, for mallory!!

eey thanks! (ask meme here for everyone else lost in the bg3 sauce)

for reference here's Mallory, looking very offended that the obviously hazardous rune had the audacity to zap him when he poked it

he's a half-drow gold draconic sorcerer and as extra as that lineage would suggest. he's also got the urchin background, but he doesn't tell people that.

I also feel it's important to mention that he was the first character I created for my initial blind playthrough and by the time I realized that his backstory and personality had a similar vibe to Astarion it was too late. as a pc it works because he romanced Astarion and the two of them have a wonderful time being insufferable and flamboyant together and bonding over their similar trauma, but as a companion he'd feel a bit "why do we have this guy, there's already one of these but better". but for the moment we'll ignore that lol.

1. What would your Tav’s greetings be (at different levels of approval)

Negative:

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" (intensely sarcastic)

"Oh. It's you."

"I was just wishing someone would come over and bother me." (also sarcastic)

Neutral+:

"Can I help you?"

"A pleasure."

"Hello, darling."

High+:

"Everything all right?"

"You know, I actually enjoy these talks."

"I hope you're well, aside from... you know."

Flirting:

"Well, hello."

"My dear, you have my full attention."

"Oh, just here to talk? Pity."

Partnered:

"I'm here."

"Gods, what would I do without you?"

"Do you need something, love?"

Broken up:

"Darling! Whatever can I do for you?" (intensely sarcastic)

"Keep wandering over here and people will talk, you know."

"Straight to business, I suppose?"

"Hm, I liked you better when you were fawning over me."

2. Describe their tent setup! What’s on the outside? The inside? The inside would be cluttered but in a deliberate organized chaos kind of way, Mallory decidedly lives up to his dragon blood in that he collects shiny things and trinkets and has maximalist decorating tastes when he's able to. the outside would be comfortable but fairly unassuming and barren. The reason for this is not personal taste, it's so that anyone who might come along to burgle the camp will go for the externally fancy-looking tents first and leave his alone.

3. What would their character quest be titled? Why? oh god I'm so bad at titles, probably something gold-related or dragon-related. idk the writers are talented they'd come up with something snappy.

4. What would your Tav’s romance scenes look like? How many would they have? He would definitely be on the "bone first ask questions later" end of the companion spectrum and would probably come onto the player fairly early on. Mallory flirts with Everyone whether he's invested in following through or not and prior to The Tadpolening he'd been clawing his way up the ranks of the upper class mages in his home city via a carefully balanced combination of fucking and blackmail and it was a marked improvement on the situation he was in before that, so his perspective on both sex and relationships is not what you'd call rose-tinted. He'd be doing the same thing here, looking for leverage and a way to establish himself with the person who's taking charge of things. It would definitely be a fun romance in act one, very weighted toward the sex scenes and light banter, but he'd be deflecting any attempts to take things further emotionally or get him to open up (and might show a bit of a vicious streak if he's pushed too hard) until the latter two acts of the game, when you'd probably see more in the way of heart to heart conversations with him as he starts trusting the player. And that trust would mean a lot to him, considering all his prior "relationships" have been transactional at best and abusive at worst.

He'd also be among the companions who's fully down with you hooking up with Halsin, and would only complain if he never gets invited. He's not well suited to monogamy.

5. Describe their idle animations! Doing little tricks with conjured fire to entertain himself, straightening his clothes/hair a bit surreptitiously and/or being preoccupied with some dirt that's not coming out, maybe doing some stretches. Pacing because he's not very good at waiting around. admiring some bauble he found while out adventuring with you and trying to figure out where to put it. if companions autonomously interacted with each other he and Gale would be arguing about magic frequently.

6. How would the player go about meeting them in Act 1? What is their introduction? I feel like the player would probably find him standing in a ring of char not far from the crash, surrounded by several smoldering intellect devourers and looking like he was not at all planning to do any adventuring the day he got abducted. He'd be wary initially but would warm up very quickly once he realizes you're not also here to attack him and suggest sticking together until the whole situation gets resolved.

The first impression he tends to give off is "mildly snobby ivory tower mage who's never had to boil water before" but it's a very curated image that he designed to navigate a very specific environment and it starts to break down once you realize he can pick locks and has a lot of random mundane survival skills and will immediately adopt any orphan that stands still long enough if he's allowed to. he is very good at being a mage though, that part is accurate.

7. Describe their arc. How would a player help resolve it? What choices can be made? Can your Tav be turned down a dark path, or pulled to a lighter one? Mallory definitely has the potential to go to the dark side, one of the ways he's most similar to Astarion is that he fears/resents others having power over him and is willing to take dubious measures to make himself as untouchable as possible. He's also manipulative at times and the kind of person who fully believes he could outwit the devil (not without reason, but he's much less impervious to consequences than he thinks he is), and he's got a lot of pent up resentment and grief and anger he's never really dealt with, so it's entirely possible that he could end up in a very bad place (both for him and for everyone around him). I've thought about one unfortunate timeline that eventually ends with him becoming a devil himself, which ultimately just traps him in a worse version of everything he was trying to escape from as a mortal but gives him the illusion of power and control (so at least he can tell himself it was worth it, even knowing it wasn't).

If influenced away from that though, he's just as capable of turning all that toward improving things instead of tearing them down, and he does have a good heart when it comes down to it.

He's got a huge soft spot for kids and a strong drive to make sure as few as possible ever have the kind of childhood he did, so I could see his arc tying in with the tiefling babies and/or Yenna in some way.

It would also likely involve Darius, his abusive ex who "took him in" in his late teens when he was in a particularly bad spot, and who he didn't get away from until he was essentially bought by someone else (which is how he ended up in the social groups he did) for more gold than Darius felt keeping him was worth. There was never any real closure there prior to the events of the game but that guy honestly needs to die. whether things end well depends on what's motivating him by the end and how he gets there; this will either be a turning point where he'll realize he's better off helping people who need it than hurting people who deserve it, or he'll go full tumblr revolutionary and decide that killing Darius wasn't enough and the only way to fix anything is to burn it all down and start from the ground up so he can do things properly, collateral damage be damned.

8. After Act 3, what does their life look like? What are they talking about at the reunion party? Regardless of his ending he will have been continuing to develop his magic, guy was like two levels away from sprouting wings by max level and he's not gonna pass that up, plus he just enjoys it.

If he had a good ending he will 100% have adopted Yenna and/or a tiefling orphan or two, and has definitely been making a huge nuisance of himself to the city's patriars in an effort to help improve things in the lower city, to great success all things considered. Mallory is extremely good at making a nuisance of himself effectively. It will be pretty clear that he's doing a lot better mental health wise and takes a lot of pride in what he's doing.

If he had a bad ending... he will insist that all his power plays and growing spiderweb of faustian bargains and revenge plots are going fantastically, and he's doing great.

He is definitely not doing great.

[protect-daniel-james]

Which of your Rakidric texts are your favorite? And what details do you love about them?

Oooh, I had to go through them to see which ones I loved writing/was proud of the most!

Barcelona - Barcelona will always have a special place in my heart. I usually write non-AU things, and this was the first attempt at "worldbuilding". I will never not regret cutting it short and ending it "at the best". I dragged it on for too long, and the ending I envisioned is still too faraway in the timeline, which makes me not want to finish it (and it's a pity, because it's already so long). But I just liked the AU rom-com-like awkward Luka and Ivan who just loves him the way he is. And bestie Suba! It honestly felt like writing a TV series, or a sitcom.

(Consign me not) To darkness - A classic hurt|/comfort, but I really felt heartbroken for Croatia after the WC final 2018, so this idea and story came naturally. I can't believe how short the full fic is, considering the story it describes (with the references to Luka's childhood, which I wasn't sure about using - I don't like exploiting someone's background and possible experiences like that, I want to be respectful with what I write etc.), it's just 2,388 words! But I remember how proud I felt back then of going over the 2000 words mark, lol. Can't relate these days. But it was the first "serious" Rakidrić fic - before, I wrote the fluffy silly Third time's the charm and the opening Madness (which I wrote still confusing Luka and Ivan, lmao, I remember constantly checking which is which on photos; and it was more like a teaser for the whole Rakidrić madness that broke out afterwards in the footy tumblr).

His - this was like the most heartfelt, kinda sappy but full of emotions fic. Also the first time (I think?) I explored some...disturbing imagery in the football fics? (he wants to peel of his and Ivan's skins and blend the blood and veins and muscles and everything together, that's him and Ivan, that's them, that's how he thinks of becoming one with Ivan). I remember thinking it was poetic and emotional and all that, I guess compared to the other fics I had written by then (fluff or PWP), it was.

I think I have to put at least one PWP here, because I wrote some with them... I can't even tell which one I like the best - I love the idea behind Never knew anyone in love... (with Ivan and his brother Dejan looking the same, and Luka taking notice), but I also loved using the teasing between them coming from playing for Barca and Real. I would say Més que un jersey for the rivalry-roleplay and dirty talk, or Mr. Rakitić, for the dirty talk and ice play which is something I always wanted to include in my PWP fics but rarely found the right way to...randomly have them have ice?

Honstly, Will you let me? has a special place in my heart since it explores omorashi kink which I kinda.....oooppssss....... And I've been thinking about using this kink/idea - because there's a serious lack of it in football fandom, would you believe that?! - so I was just happy I wrote and published it, bc I was a little ashamed/scared of putting such a kink out there haha. I don't think it's a good or well-written story, it's very self-indulgent, but I have learned to write and publish self-indulgent stories since.

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

for the character dynamic ask game, estrel & D with 2, 6, and 16?

YEAHH MY GIRL THANK YOU (character dynamics ask game)

2. if asked to describe B to a stranger, what would A say? are they mostly truthful, or is there anything they omit?

ooh ok. assuming this is at the time of the game or like. roughly before it. i think one notable admission is idk if estrel would refer to D as her father? like, that's absolutely what she thinks of him as, but i think when talking to others she might default back to "mentor" or something similar like that. something not quite as. personal. other than that, if she's talking abt D to someone who doesn't know him, it's probably in the context of hunting, so that's probably what she'd emphasize most, his skill in battle etc.

putting the rest of this under the cut so yall dont get 5 miles of oc talk lmao

honestly this is all fairly similar from D's side as well. i think at the time of the game, when she's an adult, he might not even go "apprentice" but just the entirely bloodless "associate." she's just someone he allies with. you do not need to know the rest of it, random stranger. like, i think by and large these two are both very private people who are happy to abridge a lot in conversation and then go "well you literally didn't ask." sometimes this causes problems (i don't think estrel ever even knew D had a brother until she met him) but it's just where they both settle naturally so.

6. what does A think B thinks of them? or, if asked to describe their relationship, how would they do it? are they right?

i answered this a little bit above oops lol but while i do think that to strangers they sort of obfuscate their relationship, internally they're both very honest abt/aware of it. they're family.

one thing tho that i think estrel might not be aware of, is how much D respects her? like, estrel sort of assumes that she'll always be D's second, his apprentice, but he's genuinely very proud of/impressed by her progress and views her as an equal or near equal in battle. especially during the game itself. i think she finds out about this late in fia's questline (once he's already dead) and it catches her totally off guard.

16. free space: what's your favorite thing about their dynamic, as a fan or as a writer?

OOH OKAY this is a thing that. has not gotten much screentime at all thus far bc i'm still working out sooome of her background, but. a big reason that D agreed to take her on as an apprentice/ward was that the two of them—and he knew this as soon as he got a proper look at her—have very similar, if not the exact same past. in that i think they were both an attempt at an artificial lord of night, made by the nox. the whole reason uldin came to the bestial sanctum was to find and claim the rune of death (but she was very small at the time so gurranq just swatted her halfway across the room with one hand, and then took pity on her for the same reason. and bc he knew it wasn't actually her desire, it was someone else's)

i think they also don't... talk about this much. like, they obscure their names (D with his initial, estrel with abandoning "uldin") partly out of the same sense of privacy, but partly also bc they both to some extent reject their purpose. talking abt it would validate it too much. might draw them back in to what they still know they were made for. so they just... don't. but it's always there. and i LOVE that kind of "known but not voiced" so. yeah.

[beevean]

Y’know I always kinda viewed n!Isaac as the show’s equivalent of Griffith, but if the writer genuinely believed that “Griffith did nothing wrong”. Where as Carmilla is like a gender bent and far more comically evil and idiotic version of Ganishka.

Bonus: n!Abel is just bootleg Zodd

I haven't seen Abel in the show yet and I'm genuinely intrigued to see what he does. I know he protects Isaac from Carmilla's explosion lol. Was he portrayed as having a conscience, but unable to talk? Today I watched the episode where N!Isaac describes how he could choose to see his night creatures as more than tools because FlysEyes loves eating berries, which has some interesting implications.

In the game, while woefully underused and suffering from a bad case of cutscene incompetence, he almost seemed to have his own mind - I love when Isaac in the first cutscene is all "oh I could crush you in an instant" and Abel in the background crosses his arms and nods as if to say "that's right bitch, we could", he's sassy like his master 😂 (i can't believe fucking abel has a more appealing personality than half of the netflixvania cast)

Anyway, you have a point if we only talk about S3!Isaac. His whole arc has more in common with Guts' (and another character that I will reveal when I drop my post :P), but the narrative in S3 absolutely paints this out of this world, petty villain as being morally just and sympathetic. Like, I really am supposed to feel sorry that N!Isaac "regresses" through the seasons and keeps killing people despite his will to become a better person, but all I can think of is "you absolute dumbass of course they would be RUDE to you and your giant army of demons".

Also good point about Carmilla, but you know what? I felt worse for Ganishka's backstory than I did for hers. Because we actually see it! We see, albeit in a stylized way, the story of this child being poisoned by his own mother to favor his brother, and how it lead to him being paranoid and cruel. His demise is also pitiful, I think, how his thirst for power shattered his mind in tiny pieces.

Also, Ganishka's cruel acts, like turning fetuses in demons for his army or attempting to rape Charlotte to secure a heir, make sense. He chooses to do those things with a clear objective in mind, as horrible as they may be. Carmilla beating the shit out of Hector is gratuituous both in- and out-of-universe.

[youryanderedaddy]

♡100 followers special♡

Guys, I would like to thank all of you for all the support since I started this blog, you are the best <3 Btw this is the fic Elon Musk doesn’t want you to see lol, jk jk 

Title: Humanity

Words: 3.6k 

Summary: When you get sold to an odd looking robot after the last failure of a rebellion, things go better than you had expected. Until they don’t. 

tw: robot/AI apocalypse au, dystopia au, slavery, slight non - sexual public nudity, discrimination, vulgar language, mention of death and child abuse (in the past), obsessive behavior, non - consensual touching, angst 

              AD 3061y., 14 September

 Your hometown was in ruins, shattered by the Forces and left without any source of food, clean water or reliable manpower. The rebellion had failed just like the first ten attempts and as much as you had wanted to believe this time would be different, your dreams stayed nothing more than a way to cope with the harsh reality. Any intelligent individual had either managed to flee before the prosecution or died in agony while trying. You could still hear their pained screams ringing in your ear, the desperate look in their pupils sealed forever in your mind along with the sound of heavy breathing slowly fading into the background like your own hopes for a better future.

 The ones who decided to play meek and close their eyes to the inhuman torture happening in the area were spared, but what awaited them could potentially be worse than death itself. You were part of the flock of pitiful weak humans who had surrendered to the heartless machines wanting nothing more than to see mankind squirm and kneel underneath their mechanic heel like a bug. And now you would face the hour of judgment – tired and exhausted, heavy rusty chains around your bruised ankles making every next step a little harder than the last one. But you were certain that the most painful humiliating event hadn’t taken place yet and the thought made your blood run cold. You could recall the countless stories you used to hear on the streets from your friends about androids stealing kids and selling them like cattle to the most powerful leaders of society. Back then you would laugh at them, finding the ideas ridiculous, better fit for a conspiracy theory or a legend rather than an actual threat. But during that time life was easier – the robots were still your friends, just your average citizens, equal to the humans in every manner. It wasn’t until ten years later that some of them realized just how much better, stronger and smarter than the people they really were. That’s how the apocalypse started and that’s how it was going to end. These days the mortals were becoming extinct with the population cut down to one million. You didn’t have names or rights to any possession. Your mere survival had one purpose only – to entertain the machines so they could feel human again. And right now you were being dragged to Soraq, also known as the biggest slave market in the country.

----

 It was just as terrifying as you had imagined it to be. The Capital was supposed to express wealth, luxury and maybe even happiness but your old human views were easily opposed when faced with the mud  covering what was left of the pavement and the pale exhausted bodies of the mortals wandering the streets searching for a hot meal and a little bit of kindness it was clear no one wanted to provide. You reached out to help a young girl sobbing all by herself on the ground but the Officer roughly yanked your shoulder back and ordered you to keep going – his cold hard touch was enough to bruise your skin.

 After a few long minutes of uncertainty your keeper finally stopped, pulling you up some black stairs leading to a small stage and if you weren’t too busy looking around for the others who were captured, you might have noticed the crowd gathered inches away from you. Soon enough you were forced to redirect your attention as you heard the approving screams and cheering below. There were hundreds of robots staring at you, smirking maliciously, pinning you with their cold calculating gazes. You finally realized that this wasn’t just a bad dream or a nightmare, something unreal you could easily run away from by opening your eyes. You were about to become property and the worst part was the way the cruel machines perfectly resembled people – they looked the same except for the dark red pupils each possessed which glowed when going into a fight mode. But unlike humans the androids had gotten rid of their most intimate emotions and fears, turning themselves into empty shells, shiny and murderous with no way to experience anything properly, be it pleasure or pain.

 “Ladies and gentlemen!” The Officers started off with a low chuckle, his heavy hand wrapped tightly around your arm. His voice should have been programmed to be monotone but now it had a playful edge to it. “Today our dear subjects have decided to be feisty yet again. They still haven’t learned their lesson it seems.” He grinned eerily, quickly followed by the mocking laugher of the crowd. Some even shouted slurs and insults but you tried to focus on controlling your feelings. You needed to stay calm if you wanted to survive. “We really can’t expect more from the mankind. They are primal after all, they just can’t learn from their mistakes.” The male robot paused for a second to fix his microphone. “It’s in their DNA code to be foolish and pathetic. That’s why we need to take better care of them.” He whispered the last line down your neck and despite knowing that the machines didn’t have actual lungs, you could swear you felt his cold breath on your sensitive skin.

 “The woman is in her early twenties. Her background is unknown, but she certainly looks like someone you would want in your collection.” The android continued talking as if you weren’t there, his hands all over your tinier frame. The mass was yelling, but you only made out the words „down”, „strip” and „human”. Your eyes watered involuntarily and you let the tears stream down your cheeks in spite of the weakness they showed. It didn’t matter – it couldn’t get any worse so you could at least let yourself experience such little bits of comfort. In the next moment the Officer ripped your old ragged t-shirt, exposing your breasts to the cold autumn air. The hot red humiliation washed over you as the degrading whistles pierced trough your heart. It was such a cruel unfair punishment and you couldn’t even keep your composure long enough to not break down ugly – crying right there.

 “The bidding starts at one thousand eros!” The robot’s evil voice echoed through the area, reaching the market borders. Suddenly all the attention was on your scared vulnerable half-naked self. More than ten androids raised their hands, making your stomach turn in terror. Most of them had unpleasant appearances, resembling old people, usually men. “Do we have two thousand eros?” The officer added quickly afterwards having seen the shown interest. This time there were only five bots willing to buy you for so much money – but the show was far from over. “Am I seeing three thousand eros?” Your keeper kept going, determined to drain your bidders off their wealth, but to his utmost surprise now there were only two robots with their hands in the air – one seemingly younger and the other looking all wrinkled and bitter at the world. You silently prayed that fate would work in your favor only this time and hand you over to the man who would treat you more like a living being and less like an object.

 “Ten thousand eros.” Suddenly the android with a kinder appearance declared out loud, his cold stern gaze fixed onto you. The other male hesitated for a moment, probably wondering whether or not you were worth so much money, but at the end he cursed under his breath and slowly put his hand down with a sour expression. “Sold to K-010 for ten thousand eros!” The automatic voice of the Officer was ringing in your ear like an alarm while the crowd was shouting and cussing, some going as far as to criticize your new owner for giving up his monthly salary for a “cheap human whore”. Next he was invited on the stage to sign off all the needed documents leading to your freedom being ripped away forever and you were injected with a tiny chip which would make your location visible to your buyer at any given time. The android looked at you soon after and in one swift move he managed to place his leather coat on your shoulders, muttering at you to cover up. You obeyed, embarrassed by the reminder that your upper half was still fully exposed to all the hungry prying immortals. When the chains were finally removed, the robot took you by the hand and led you to a small white flying car with a yellow lily drawn on top – the brand was popular among the most powerful members of the Forces.

 “Don’t even think about running away.” K-010 growled when he noticed the way your attention drifted to the nearby road before finally taking your seat. You knew it was pointless now that the tracking device was deep into your skin but deep down you still couldn’t kill the last bit of hope screaming at you to do something before you were too far away to find home again, wherever it was. “If you so much as look outside while we drive, I will use my lasers to turn you into ash. Okay?” You nodded meekly and sank into the soft comfortable seat, wishing that your body would stop shaking in fear but to no avail.

---

 The journey was long and silent but it made you remember the days when music was still allowed and you used to turn the radio all the way up in your mother’s car. You would sing loudly until your throat hurt and your friends would ask you to just shut up and focus on the road. Everything was so normal and happy back then. The stinging nostalgia threatened to overcome so you tried to focus on something else. You finally faced your owner in an attempt to study his appearance. He was probably in his late twenties, his hair white with some black locks here and there, a fashion trend you usually didn’t care much for. You couldn’t afford to bother with your hairstyle when you were constantly running for your life after all. The robotic male had sun-kissed brown skin, he was taller than most human men and his lips seemed softer than most robots’. But the biggest mystery laid in his deep dark eyes, they looked scarlet at first but the more you stared, the easier it was to realize the color was actually brown.

 “Are you a cyborg, K-010?” You asked in a small voice out of the blue, breaking the peace and quiet in the air. The android didn’t spare you much attention with his gaze fixed onto the open sky serving as a road, still he opened his mouth slightly to respond. “My name is Kyle, the numbers are just a formality.” He inhaled sharply as if he was reminiscing a bad memory. “And yes, I am biologically human – just with a few practical upgrades.” You had heard of such people before, the ones willing to become an experiment so they could join the high society oppressing their own neighbors, friends and relatives, setting the lands on fire and destroying the dying environment but you had never met one until today. Honestly, you felt betrayed. It was one thing to be some unfeeling machine’s plaything and entirely another to be owned by someone with a functioning heart even though they weren’t too keen on using it properly.

 “Why would you do that?” You couldn’t stop the question from leaving your lips in the next moment. “You should know what humans have to go through just to stay alive. Today hundreds of us were crushed and sold like some animals! Yet you changed yourself to appeal to their disgusting standards.” You raised your voice, the hot tears already spilling down your cheeks yet again, your fists clenched in pure anger at the foolish greedy man. He simply shook his head and leaned back. “I had my reasons, sweetheart. You don’t know anything.” With that the conversation had ended, you could try and argue or even blame him for being a selfish bastard but it wouldn’t have done you any good so you decided against it. It didn’t matter much anymore.

----

 A few months went by slowly even though time meant little to someone in your position. Living with Kyle wasn’t as terrible as you thought it would be – his mansion was big and spacious, luxurious even. You had your own room and you were allowed to explore the house in your free time. You didn’t have many duties to attend to, your work mostly revolved around cooking, cleaning and keeping company with your owner when he was too tired to keep the robotic mask on and just wanted something sweet, something weak, something more human around. He didn’t want much out of you so you tried to do your best and stay on his good side – there was always a warm meal waiting at the table at night, every window was carefully wiped from the previous dust and the glass was now shining brightly, and you would listen for hours on end to the cyborg’s ramblings no matter how dreadful it could be sometimes.

 But it couldn’t be denied that the man had some odd habits, even if you were to overlook him buying a living being instead of simply hiring a maid. For example, you knew how thin the walls actually were because you could hear him cry almost every night. The half-robot would hold you close any time the news were too loud or a bottle of beer had fallen and shattered on the ground. Still you weren’t allowed to leave his home so all the doors leading to the outside world were locked while he was away or at work. And there were these weird long cuts on his shoulders you had managed to take notice of the first time your master had asked you to bathe him. You hadn’t meant to prey upon his naked form, but the task had been so awkward you needed something to focus on to drive the unpleasant thoughts away. The injuries looked deep and the man would close his eyes any time the soap made contact with them. Finally one day you gathered the courage to ask him what had caused the raw scratches. You were messaging his scalp gently, applying jasmine in his roots, trying to soothe his nerves and get to the information.

 “ ’S not important. ” K-010 answered lazily while arching his back into your touch. More often than not the male would melt under your care and you couldn’t help but wonder just how lonely it was to be neither a human nor a machine. “She is dead now.” He whispered darkly, secretly hoping it wouldn’t reach your ear, yet it did. “Who is dead?” You questioned him after a while, stroking his wet locks until you heard him moan. You were getting better and better at provoking a reaction from the cyborg and despite knowing it was manipulative and a little devious, he was still the ruthless owner who held your one and only life in his palms. You needed to be sneaky if you wanted a safe, comfortable life.

 “My mother.” Kyle added quickly before looking at the blue ceiling, the glossy material copying both of your reflections. The mention of the woman made the sensitive skin of his nape crawl but he kept talking. “The crazy bitch used to beat me every. She even tried to kill me a couple of times.” A slight smile appeared on his full red lips. “It didn’t work out in the end, unfortunately.” So that’s where the cuts were from – he had been violated in his childhood by no other than the person supposed to look after him. You had always hated abusive parents taking advantage of their authority and even now your own imagination made your heart ache at the picture it painted. A small boy being hit over and over until there his whole body was bruised and bloodied. A child with no one to turn to. It didn’t excuse your master’s evil doing but it certainly explained a lot. “Don’t make such a sad face, darling.” He cooed at you, reaching out to pinch your cheek. “I will always be grateful to the Forces since they gave me the power I needed to finally free myself from her grasp. I even buried her myself after everything was said and done.” Kyle grinned from side to side like a little kid waiting to be praised for the picture they had drawn, except now the man was speaking of the way he had murdered his mother. You were at a total loss of words, suddenly too frightened to respond.

 “What’s so special about being a human anyways?” The cyborg grumbled, sounding almost offended of the words you still haven’t said but were definitely thinking deep down. You were staring forward unable to draw away from that one crack in the wall, his words flying above your head. Your confusion was interrupted by the man quickly raising to his knees and catching both of your hands with his strong robotized ones. The cold touch of the metal combined with the camouflage of a soft skin was enough to mess your mind even further into the maze that was his dark gaze. Next thing you knew the male had you pinned on the hard ground, spotlessly clean and reeking of abstergent. You tried to squirm away but the hold of your wrists was too tight and strong to even make your struggling worth the trouble. “Just look at how weak you humans are.” K-010 taunted you, smirking teasingly, cruelly, yet there was something desperate in his eyes, something hidden. “You are so fragile I could probably break you if I were to press harder on your flesh.” He whispered into your ear, breathing down your neck as he dug his icy fingers into your collarbone and made you whimper pathetically at the dull pain. “People are foolish creatures, illogical by nature. They try to fight authority yet the moment they are left with a free choice, they find a way to run from their responsibilities.” The cyborg chuckled maliciously while digging his nails further into your skin.

 “We might be doomed forever because of our emotions but there is something you fail to consider.” You finally spoke out despite your rapid heartbeat and fear so great it could defeat death herself. The predator already had you in his sharp claws and there was no pointing in playing coy anymore. The worst had come to worst. Your words caught the attention of the half-robot and he licked his lips in anticipation to hear what you had to say. “Unlike the androids we can still experience love. And at the end a life without love is a life wasted in the big picture. We might be mortal but you are the ones waiting to die instead of living.” You spat at the man fiercely, ready to face any punishment he would bestow upon your weak tired body for the sheer honesty. Instead he started laughed maniacally, the sound so loud it hit the ceiling and echoed through the house like a pained scream and so violent his shoulders shook to the sides. For the first time his eyes were glowing in a bright red color so saturated and vivid you couldn’t stand to look at them.

 “This is really funny, my little human.” Kyle pronounced carefully, having calmed down. He lowered his head so that his lips were ghosting over yours, just brushing against them. “I belong with neither humans nor robots so why does my chest ache every time I look at you? Tell me, darling, am I in love?” His voice was harsh, husky – as if he was purposely trying to sound evil but the tears in his eyes pointed at another feeling. A raw painful feeling.

 You couldn’t reply not only because you had no idea what to say after the confession but also because you couldn’t breathe properly with his pretty, wicked face so close to yours. Your silence only managed to stir the cyborg up further into his madness and he kissed you roughly, hungrily lapping and biting at your lips until they were sore and bruised, the robotic man more than happy to lick the small drops of blood off. For a moment you considered kicking or shouting for help but there wasn’t anyone willing to in the radius of kilometers. No one of significance cared much about the few remaining mortals. “I could never love you.” You uttered weakly, half – heartedly pushing the man away. You were all alone in this and there wasn’t really a point in fighting someone so much bigger and stronger, yet a sad little part of you hoped that Kyle would leave you alone if you made it clear enough just how much his actions were hurting you.

  “It’s fine if you don’t love me by choice.” Your master replied calmly in a cold piercing voice. His hands were wandering through your form stopping at your hips to draw them into his. The pretty dress you used to like so much was now crumpled and reeking of him, torn apart from your shivering body and thrown away. You wished you could cry but all the adrenaline had left you too uneasy to process the pain and fear. Kyle whispered in your ear while stroking your hair gently and it made you feel like a trembling sheep before a starved butcher. “I own you, little human.” He placed a small kiss on your hot sensitive neck. “And I have enough love for both of us.”

[sneverussape]

random thought i had in the shower but: what do you think severus thought of women? and i don’t mean what he thought of them in a romantic way. i mean...do you think he was progressive in his mindset, or do you think he shared a similar mindset with the bulk of his generation (lol snape is a boomer...i will never not find that funny) which viewed men as the superior gender? 

(disclaimer that i only mean this discourse in a purely academic sense and i’m deliberately not trying to project my own beliefs onto him; i just want to approach it from his character’s pov based on what we know and can deduce from canon.) my take is: given his background and the environment and time period he had grown up in, it was likely the latter, although i don’t think he would have been as overt in showing it. he was himself an easy target and would have learned to keep his mouth shut early in life, but i bet that there had been instances growing up when he’d told lily she couldn’t do certain things because she was a girl, or when he’d bristled whenever she teased him that he looked/threw/ran like a girl. i bet there were moments growing up when tobias degraded him because he hadn’t deemed his son “masculine enough”. i bet that a lot of the time the marauders had bullied him, mcgonagall had given slughorn the “boys will be boys” excuse within earshot, and snape would have had to begrudgingly accept because no way could he have been seen as less. he was a man and had to take it like a man. there would have been no other recourse.  i’d like to think too that he wasn’t so far gone that he thought all women were less important or less intelligent than men. in canon he never made any derogatory remarks about anyone’s gender (that i remember at least, feel free to correct me), and never correlated it with performance and such; he doled out punishments to anyone, after all, and was more concerned about students’ behavior than anything else. he also seemed the type to have known better anyway once he was more grown-up, or at the very least he had known what to say and not say in polite company. we never really know how he interacted with anyone else, especially with peers and colleagues, under normal circumstances though, which is a pity as that would have given us more clues. all in all it doesn’t seem to be so far-fetched that he may have learned and espoused misogynistic beliefs growing up (let’s not even get started on what he thought about lgbtqa+ because i think he’d have been very old-school about that too) but it’s also possible he may have attempted to unlearn it as he got older, or at the very least, learned to restrain his tongue enough to not spread those ideals any further than his own mind. there aren’t a lot of fics that show this side of him...they often write him as a bit progressive, but it’s equally believable, if not more so, that he wasn’t. 

[lovelybarnes]

cry- avengers

a/n: so i forgot to post it the other day lol

pairings: platonic!avengers x reader, peter parker x reader

warnings: period

about: a crackfic; y/n cannot stop crying

y/n sat in the middle of her bed, eyes red and swollen and lip jutting out in a pathetic pout as she attempted to hold back tears.

at some point, she realized it was hopeless, but, considering she was tony stark’s daughter and lived with the most stubborn people in the world, she refused to give in.

it was idiotic, really, but she was hormonal and a stark and she wouldn’t give in, even if it was stupid.

she hadn’t moved from her room for two days, only surviving off of the food she left in her room and the fact her dad and the others, including her boyfriend, had been on a mission without her- which, by the way, did not do much good to her already pitiful state.

her family had already come back, and she was pleasantly surprised at the fact nobody had come up yet, seeing as she lived with possibly the nosiest man ever, and a mind reader. she was glad, though, because she was sure the moment someone would find her in her sad room, covered with tissues and in crumpled, tear stained clothing, they would overreact. it was in their blood, really.

she knew she should clean up, both herself and her room, but she couldn’t bring herself to drag herself out of bed, which made her feel useless, thus making her feel worse.

god, she really couldn’t believe the same girl who was here, making a y/n sized hole in her bed was the same y/n who would stomp on a man’s face without so much as a thought.

she sighed loudly, throwing her arm over her face and mumbling incoherent things even she couldn’t understand.

“miss stark, your father is requesting you to the kitchen to eat,” friday informed her, breaking the silence, and making y/n groan loudly, “tell him i’m not hungry.”

there was a small pause, and friday beeped back. “mister stark says, and i quote,” the background noise changed, and y/n realized it was a live recording.

“get down here and cut the bullshit, little stark, you’re always hungry.”

y/n groaned again, mumbling a fine and literally rolling off of her bed. she landed on the floor with a thud, sighing. “friday, tell me, honestly, how do i look?”

there was an unnatural pause and y/n groaned once again, jumping to her feet and checking herself out in the mirror. she had to agree with friday’s long pause, even begrudgingly. her eyes were so swollen and red, she physically cringed, throwing some extremely cold water on her face and wincing.

“ugh,” she said, before friday interrupted her. “mister stark is-”

y/n cut her off with a groan, silencing the AI and dragging herself out of her room.

y/n slapped at her cheeks before going into the dining room, attempting to cover up her still blotchy face with her hair, which, of course, didn’t work as she wanted, because when does it ever?

y/n trudged into the room, dragging her feet and ignoring her sweet boyfriend, knowing he would know that something was wrong immediately. she wanted to sit next to thor, or maybe even scott, considering everyone else knew her way too well.

unfortunately for her, fate still hates her, and thus made her sit between her father and natasha, in front of wanda. great. an assassin trained to read people, a mind reader, and a father that knew her too well.

“sit down, honey, it’s lasagna day, and you know how these animals get,” her father cheered, not noticing her yet, too busy staring at the lasagna in rhodey’s hands, who gave tony a dirty look (not the lasagna, rhodey). clint’s eyes followed her as she walked, making an unsettling feeling sit at the button of her stomach, and, for a reason unbeknownst to even y/n, tears rush to her eyes.

suddenly, vision, from wanda’s side, ticked his head to the side. “y/n has been crying,” he stated, and suddenly, everyone’s eyes were on her. y/n gasped, mouth open, indignified.

“she has!” sam pointed out, staring so deep into her eyes, she thought he could see the back of her brain.

“what?- y/n, why are you crying?” tony started, but didn’t let her answer, his eyes bouncing dangerously to peter. bucky, however, beat him to the punch.  “what did the spider dick do? i swear to god-” peter shrank into his seat as y/n shook her head, a small pout beginning to form on her lips against her will.

suddenly, her father lunged at peter, and y/n shrieked, melting into peter’s own terrified scream at being in iron man’s iron grip.

everyone was screaming, and suddenly, y/n’s shaking lip stopped, the tears she didn’t even know the reason for bulging from her eyes.

she hiccuped, ugly sobs making her shut her eyes, and everything stopped.

y/n heard the sound of natasha slapping the top of her father’s head, presumably to push him off of her boyfriend.

y/n pried her eyes open, staring into the eyes of the wide eyed avengers.

“lady stark?...” thor started, a small glimmer of fear in his eyes that made y/n want to laugh and cry at the same time.

“i’m hormonal and i’m sad, and i’m on my period and i can’t stop crying because i stupidly decided to watch a stupid movie that i love but it makes me so sad, and all i want is ice cream right now but you won’t stop attacking peter and i don’t know why everything makes me cry!” y/n sobbed, leaning into wanda’s touch as she hugged the crying teen.

steve stared at y/n bug- eyed, blinking owlishly as he exchanged a look with bucky. “bucky bought some strawberry ice cream yesterday, and i’m not really sure why because he hates the cold.”

y/n giggled at the stray fact steve had decided to add to his statement, making the man grin, i made her laugh.

“thank you stevie- and bucky, thank you bucky,” y/n sniffled, and the two super soldiers smiled, bucky shoving steve to signal for him to get the ice cream- which, y/n had to admit, was the right move.

“i’m sorry my dad attacked you, pete,” y/n groaned, almost passing by her dad. “but thank you, dad, for caring enough to attack peter,” she giggled, giving tony a quick kiss on the cheek. peter, poor, poor, peter, was gulping, adam’s apple moving as y/n tugged him.

“i think you broke him, dad,” she sniffed, poking peter in the cheek. tony shrugged, and a small, comfortable moment of silence passed. “can we watch movies and eat in the theater room? thor can drag peter over.”

[lordelmelloi2]

“True. We are tyrants, therefore we are heroes.”

Rider answered without so much as a change in his facial expression.

“We take full responsibility for our nations. Therefore, Saber. Listen to me. If a king is not content with his own kingdom, he is a weak ruler. A weak ruler is a worse king to have than a tyrant!”

So funny for him to say this while Antipater was basically handling everything back home while he went off and jumped into freezing icy rivers and--

“Alexander, you…Your own empire. It became four separate warring factions that quickly disappeared into the sands of history. At that ending, you don't have any regrets? If you can redo it, you'd want to save your motherland...aren't you thinking about that?”

“No.”

somehow. i am not surprised in the slightest that iskandar “Natural Enemy: His Mother” would let Greece/Macedonia fall to ruin. Alexander “I wish my mother wouldn’t try to get involved in so many political affairs” “My father was assassinated by a man whose r*pe and humiliation he covered up” III of Macedon. Alexander “Im Persian now actually my dad is Zeus and my mother is Sisygambis now” third of fucking Macedon. I AM NOT SURPRISED IN THE SLIGHTEST THAT HE DOESN’T HAVE ANY DESIRE TO ‘SAVE’ THE PLACE GIVEN HOW QUICKLY HE DESIRED TO ADAPT INTO OTHER CULTURES NAMELY PERSIAN AT THE ANGER OF HIS MACEDONIAN CONTEMPORARIES. IM JUST SAYING BUT THIS MAKES COMPLETE SENSE GIVEN HIS BACKGROUND. 100000% PROBABLY THE MOST 

Raising himself to his full height, the King of Conquerors met Saber’s furious gaze with his own.

“No, I do not. If the actions of me and my generals lead to the eventual demise of my own nation, then I will accept it for what it is! Yes, I will grieve. Yes, I will shed tears. But I will not have a single regret!”

this would be bold if like. the hellenic empire didn’t suck so bad. Once again the lack of desire for reparations makes this an empty statement 

“…What?”

“Don’t you even dare suggesting something as stupid as an attempt to rewrite history! Such an idiotic action, is an insult to all of humanity who lived during my time!”

I mean ....I guess lol. What, like you weren’t insulting them yourself at that time either? 

In response to Rider’s haughty declaration, Saber shook her head.

“What you’re saying is only the glory of a simple fighter. The people won’t wish for such things. Salvation would be their prayer."

Auuauaugughghhh here we go again 

“You could say that. The only one fit to rule is someone who would willingly give themselves up for an ideal.”

Without any hint of hesitation, the young King of Knights nodded.

“Through the king, the people could understand law and order. The king should not express something that would disappear upon the king’s death, but rather something more precious.”　　

At Saber who had proclaimed that firmly, while displaying a feeling as if he pitied her somewhere, Rider let out a deep sigh.

“That is not a path taken by a human being.”

“Correct. As king, we cannot hope for a normal life.”

She just says that. she just says it she literally just says it. as king we cannot hope for a normal life. I HATE YOU BOTH SO MUCH !!!!!!!!! STOP TRYING TO REPRESENT A CONCEPT ARTORIA AAUAUAAGH BUT ALSO I CANT STAND ISKANDAR BECAUSE HES NOT EXACTLY GOOD AT REPRESENTING HUMANITY SO MUCH AS MEGALOMANIA AOAA0UAHAGAILKJGLKFJ

[princepokemon]

I’m BACK. Again. 😨 Between my VERY long trip away from home and school, it’s been hectic but hopefully I can get back to posting semi normally again!

Figured I’d start out with a dump of DnD doodles from my last campaign featuring my favorite boy, Mani :)

Anyway, Mani! He’s a tiefling merchant who doubled as the group's pack mule. His travelling companions were Benny the gnome archeologist and Rahm the goliath Vagabond. 

I had a great time with my friends but unfortunately our DM dipped mid campaign and I haven’t played for some time.

Here’s the character background/motivation piece I had to submit for anyone who’s into that kind of stuff. It’s sloppy but it gets the job done lol

—-

Fear is a powerful motivator. Fear of failure and death, fear of beasts and blood or the fear of being known; Manok Rhodara has molded his entire life around fleeing it.

Born into a small family of laborers in a very large city, he spent his younger years watching his parents trapped in the endless cycle of poverty. They’d toil away with seemingly no end in sight yet he still longed for something greater. Nevermind the nobles that paraded around in their carriages adorned with jewels, the simple merchant walking the streets with a full belly and spare coin was something he could wrap his brain around. His elder sister Nefaria had mocked him for his ambitions, but he kept his head down and did his best to observe the shopworkers he admired, emulating them in his precious free time.

Dreaming and doing are two different things however. His mother, a talented painter, had never successfully sold a single painting. Manok would watch her weep in their room after a day of fruitless peddling; tears muddying the beautiful discarded landscape. No one wants to sully homes with the work of an impoverished devil kin. He held out hope that the world outside the city walls didn’t hold these grudges. A fateful afternoon with his father would quickly extinguish these thoughts though.

He had so often felt the stares of disdain from the other races that he rarely acknowledged them anymore but that day he remembered them feeling particularly sharp. As they strolled through the city making their usual stops to resupply, Manok pleaded with his father to visit the local jewelers. The shopkeep was a shrewd elf who had recently lost his apprentice and Manok was confident he could wrangle a position if he could just get his foot in the door. 

Relenting, his father agreed on the condition that they never step foot in the store again if the master rejected him. Though unimpressed, the shopkeeper miraculously agreed to start training him as an errand boy after some smooth talking and a bit of pitiful begging (until he could find a “suitable” replacement he’d said). In the owner’s words, “Put a hat on and you could pass for an elf. If you keep that tail hidden and your mouth shut you might have a chance at doing this right.”.

An unusual victory was quickly dashed by an unusual misfortune as an insidious bystander took advantage of the irregular pair, swiping a handful of gems and planting a few on his father. It wasn’t long before the situation quickly devolved into a heated shouting match with police in tow and that was all it took to throw his family’s life out of kilter.

The remaining Rhodaras were scrutinized by the law after his father was branded a thief and thrown in prison. Stall owners rejected their goods and they were banned from many parts of the city. The places they could walk freely, judgmental eyes followed their every move and attempted to imprison them over minor insurrections. His sister swore revenge while his mother fell into a deep depression. Confused and scared for his life, Manok did the only thing he felt he could do. Run. So he did.

He ran for weeks and weeks stowing away on boats and picking through trash. In the forests he drank rainwater and foraged familiar plants and bark he could recognize from the markets back home. He didn’t know the full extent of his travels until he was much older but he had trekked an entire continent away to the Forest Islet.

It was there deep in the woods untouched by man, that he stumbled upon a grand weeping cherry and the fae within it: Punella. It had been decades since a sentient soul had wandered their way into her mystical grotto and even longer since she had formed a pact. A glance at his sniveling face was all it took for her to pity the boy enough to reveal her form and administer her guardian test. Three simple trials to expose his true nature. He was reserved, studious, observant and very afraid but when the kind-hearted dryad offered her guidance, he recognized a great opportunity and never looked back.

He would maintain responsibility for her grotto and in exchange for his dedication she would grant him knowledge, magic and, most crucial of all, companionship. He spent the following years learning the arts of crafting and deception while honing his hunting skills. By the time he could truly call himself ‘self-reliant’ he was nearly 17 and his thirst for knowledge was full throttle. 

His favorite of all was illusory magic, creating baubles and trinkets to decorate his camp and make him smile. What started as a hobby grew into something marketable and it wasn’t long before he was imbuing attractive charms into delicate crafts he made from the surrounding forest. Even his patron was impressed.

The woods had their own charm, but camping in a shabby hut he pieced together haphazardly had gotten old long ago. To really make a change, he’d need materials he couldn’t find surrounded by the trees. For materials he’d need someone to supply them and….. money. After some gentle encouragement, he hatched a plan to try his hand at the market once. 

Once he mustered up the confidence to venture out, he traded pelts for books. Many, many books. He spent months pouring over encyclopedias and cultural commentaries. The main subject of his study was covering elves. He knew some of their mannerisms from his time in the city but his end goal would have him immersed in their lifestyle. His time in the city taught him that tieflings are easy victims and if he was finally getting the chance to delve into the world of commerce, he was going to do it right. He didn’t need to be perfect immediately but he had to appear legitimate enough to sell enough junk to build an adequate home.

With that, the life of Manok Rhodara was snuffed out and the adventure of Manolari Nym began. Despite spending his early teens isolated in the woods, he was able to appear warm and personable to the closest neighboring townsfolk. It wasn’t long until he developed a rapport with the local craftsman and was regularly completing projects with them during his trips out from the woods. He would never stay long and his mysterious nature prompted some rumors but somehow, impossibly, the world he’d dreamed of was within his grasp.

On cold nights he thought back on his time with his family and wondered what he could have done differently. He remembered the despair and panic; He remembered how he abandoned them to escape it. But he was happy now. His days with Punella were carefree and her gentle presence was a gift. The guilt could be aching, but Mani was willing to live that and far greater if it meant keeping what they had built together.

Life is a lottery with impossible odds. If you’re lucky enough, you might get to draw again. How far would you go to protect that second chance?

[arthurmorgansleftlung]

The Gang Goes to Tahiti... Without Micah

Requested by @sun-ny-flow-ers !

I very much rushed the ending lol.

Please don’t come for me regarding grammatical errors and timeline accuracy. My smooth brain is only capable of so much.

The remaining members of the Van der Linde Gang had seen and experienced enough. The amount of friends and fellow gang members deaths had taken a huge toll on everybody. Folks were leaving left and right. This was the end.

But, Dutch Van der Linde had a plan. His remaining followers listened to him announce that they were going to move to another camp, they just needed more time, more money. How bad could this really be compared to the abandoned cannibal cave? Of course everybody was tired of the same plan again, but where else would they go?

A gruff sigh and the clinking of spurs caught everybody’s attention. Arthur Morgan, followed by Sadie Adler and Abigail Marston.

“I’ve heard enough, Dutch,” the cowboy spoke, followed by a failed attempt to cover a wheeze. Dutch looked at Arthur, and felt pity for the boy he’d watched grown up. He was going to die, and soon.

“This,” Arthur gestured to the general area, “is our last camp. I know you’ve got the money to get us out of here, the amount ain’t a secret no more.” Dutch’s lips parted. He was trying to find the words to say. How did Arthur know? Who told him? Who was the rat?

“Arthur, what... are you talking about?” Dutch’s mood changed from pity to anger. “We don’t have nearly enough for everybody to go.”

“Everybody?” Arthur let out a sad laugh. “Have you maybe noticed that, let’s see... one, two, three, four, five, six, seven..... twelve! Twelve of our people are dead or left? We got enough for the rest of us. And we’ll have more after I tell you what good ol’ Agent Milton told us... before we killed him.” He gestured to Abigail and Sadie. They had just returned from the big shoot out at Van Horn. Arthur drew his volcanic pistol and aimed it at Micah Bell’s head. Time stopped.

“What are you talking about, Blacklung?” Micah hissed. He stepped forward, hand going for his hip.

“Oh, don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about, rat!” A small gasp was heard in the background, probably one of the ladies. “Micah here‘s been feedin’ information to the goddamned Pinkertons! Agent Milton told me. Told me that Miss O’Shea never gave him good information... she loved you too much, Dutch.”

Micah drew his pistol, and aimed it at Arthur. He laughed darkly, “What the hell makes you think you could listen to Milton? How can you trust a Pinkerton?” His voice dripped with venom. Micah pulled the hammer of his pistol back. Click.

Pow.

Micah fell to the ground, bleeding from his chest. Everybody jumped back, shocked. Arthur hadn’t shot him, so who did? They looked around, only to see that it had been none other than John Marston.

“Micah!” Dutch called out. He knelt down to help him, but was too late. Dutch drew his gun, and pointed it at John. John held his hands up and slowly made his way to Abigail’s side.

“You’ve got well over twenty grand hidden in that cave behind you. That’s enough for the pathetic amount of us left. After everything you’ve done to us... because of him,” he gestured to Micah’s fresh corpse, “you owe us this.”

Dutch looked at Micah, and had sudden clarity about his loyalty and honesty. But he couldn’t look bad. He had to be Dutch, the man with a plan. The leader.

“Well... you’ve caught me. I just wanted to save up enough to make sure our lives were good in Tahiti. But if you wanna live in squalor there too, so be it.”

“Squalor ain’t nothin’ compared to this shithole you’ve got us in now, Dutch,” Arthur coughed. “Let’s go. I insist.”

The gang looked at each other. They discussed plans, and without an official order, began tearing down the camp. Dutch realized that it was now or never, for them to escape. And so he had Arthur ride into the city and buy their way to Tahiti.

When the gang arrived at their tropical paradise, they quickly found an empty area of land to call home. Duties were assigned. Poor Grimshaw’s duties were assigned to Abigail.

John was a nervous wreck when it came to water, and Arthur teased him relentlessly. Maybe now would be a good time to learn how to swim, or at the very least, float.

Once Arthur had learned how to communicate efficiently with the other inhabitants of the island, he found a doctor. He had never seen Tuberculosis before, but with collective help from islanders and the gang, he worked a miracle. He cured Arthur.

Everybody worked hard. They built small homes. No more tents (unless they really missed the old days). They learned how to survive in new terrain.

The gang was free from the law. At least for a good long while. And they were finally at peace.

[vaguely-gestures-to-the-void]

Hindsight: My thoughts on Loki (2021)

As always, thanks for being here my friends. There’s definitely more nuanced discussion of this show, but I’m here for the vibes. Anyways, here’s my thoughts on Episode 3 of Loki. Bear in mind I hadn’t watched episode 4 before I wrote the review for 3. No hate on anyone/thing, it’s all my opinion.

Episode 3: LAMENTIS

Pre-title scene

I rioted when I heard Hayley’s voice. It’s a win for all of us.

C-20! Sylvie!

C-20’s lil dance was adorable. I love her.

I want Sylvie’s tie dye.

Is that Ralph Bohner?

The same place, but at night. Coincidence? I think not.

Sylvie’s powers have limits. She can’t search someone’s mind and take information, she needs them to willingly tell her though she can use her powers to do that.

TVA

Sylvie’s experienced. Always tie your hair into a bun before a fight.

Her music is nothing like what we’ve heard previously. It’s the Sylvie show folks.

The mural on the left side of the hall is the one from the credits scene.

The plaque above the elevators says ‘FOR ALL TIME ALWAYS’.

Even in the mural on the right side, the Time Keepers aren’t equal, the middle one takes up the most space.

Ravonna!

I love how their movements are similar. The head-snap-hair-flip combo is nearly identical, reflecting how they are the same person to some extent.

2077 Lamentis - 1

“Get off my leg!” SiblingTM energy.

“Goodbye, variant.” She sure has the Loki drama.

I finally remembered it’s called a TemPad. Rip.

“Don’t ever call me that.”

“Tech savvy?”

That’s so Ragnarok.

I love the music as we pan up to the planet. It’s the familiar, anxiety-inducing ticking for me lads.

“You idiot! This is Lamentis - 1.”

“I don’t know what that means!”

My siblings when I can’t restart the router (every country has an AT&T).

I like that it’s a moon that’s inhabited. It’s nearly always the planet, still not great for the people on it.

That slide to get under the dump truck was so smooth.

“So we’re a team now?” Jesus Loki needs friends. Probably a good therapist too.

“Didn’t need your help!”

“You’re so weird!”

I like the way Tom runs. Don’t know why. Just do.

Sidenote, my favourite running form is Chris Evans’.

Sylvie’s magic flickered so I genuinely think the enchantment didn’t work.

“Well then I’ll cut it out.” I like the way she says that. I am questioning so many things rn.

“Just because I have to work with you doesn’t mean I wanna hear your voice.” It’s ironic since they spend so much time talking about themselves.

“Alright, well, slow down… Variant.” They really play off each other’s egos to find weaknesses.

“You don’t know what you want.” Sylvie’s more straightforward in everything she does. She efficiently points out Loki’s flaws but when it comes to a goal, she’s meticulous.

“...just walk away.” Loki stops walking, but Sylvie does walk away. There is distance between them (for now).

I’ve had experience with mining towns like this one and whilst they weren’t so out-of-this-world (ya know) there is a tendency for rural and isolated communities to struggle with old/not maintained infrastructure. This is not everywhere, but it’s not uncommon from what I know. Even though these towns are a source of wealth, there isn’t distribution of the money and it’s a grim reality that’s being shown. I appreciate it.

The shot of them walking past a slab of that planet towards the hut is incredible. Wow.

The person in there is just waiting for their death. I’m going to be addressing a lot of the harsh realities in this episode folks so it won’t be so cheerful.

I understand that people weren’t so happy with this being a filler episode, but I think they got it right. It’s strange that a literal planet-moon collision doesn’t bring the tension that the hurricane did in the last ep, but by having an atmosphere that wasn't so omnius, they conveyed (to me at least) that hope was already lost. In the Roxxcart Disaster, the people believed that it wasn’t going to be the end. There’s desperation on Lamentis - 1 but as Sylvie said, the collapse of society occurs. That’s a large group of people realising that class divides will cause slaughter. It’s greed portrayed in two different ways, one being the integration of excessive capitalism into society, the other being social structure based on oppression. Not everyone’s reading into Loki like this but it’s a change from how Marvel usually approaches conflict.

We learnt about the characters and whilst I’m not a fan of when a plot line is moot (my bet is that Loki and Sylvie will be rescued next ep, making all the attempts to get off Lamentis - 1 pointless), it’s necessary for the characters to develop. The way Loki and Sylvie end up on Lamentis - 1 makes sense and the plot doesn’t feel forced.

“It’s remarkable that you made it as far as you did.”

Devils is recurring in this episode. Maybe this has implications on future episodes?

“Which one was that, diplomacy?” Why are their interactions so funny?

I don’t think I need to comment on the significance of the train station scene.

I would like to acknowledge that though this is good writing that’s relevant in the time it was released, we shouldn’t forget it’s coming from large corporations who aren’t perfect.

How do they just walk past the line?

The people who snitched were right in front of them.

Did the cat get Loki’s silvertongue? That was the most graceless lying I’ve ever seen.

Sylvie not sitting with her back to a door makes sense, but why won’t Loki go backwards on a train? They both have little quirks.

“That’s not a plan. That’s just doing a thing.” Loki went to the Thor school of planning, it’s Get Help all over again.

Loki’s exaggerated nods at the other guards lol.

Sylvie growls whenever she’s mad, it’s hilarious.

The close ups of their faces when the conversation gets personal and isn’t just trading jabs is great for conveying the authenticity of their answers.

Loki not pressing Sylvie when she clearly didn’t want to talk about what happened to her mother is something I appreciated.

Here’s to Tom for having to do magic for more than 10 years now. He’s so serious, I can only imagine how funny it is without the effects.

“Well she did.” Yeesh, has Loki gotten time to grieve?

Sylvie is genuinely impressive.

“Pity the old woman chose to die.”

“She was in love.”

I don’t quite understand what they were talking about then, I guess we’ll find out later?

Loki, why are you so unnecessarily dramatic?

I laughed. Who am I kidding, they’re dorks and I love them.

Loki is trying to find out anything, anyone who could be used against Sylvie.

Here’s to the postman, they’re probably dead but we appreciate Sylvie’s happiness anyways.

“A bit of both. I suspect the same as you.” AND THAT’S HOW YOU WRITE IN REPRESENTATION FOLKS!

Let’s just take our scraps and be happy, eh? It made my week.

They both need real relationships of any kind, guys.

“Love is… uh, something I might have to have another drink to think about.” Me whenever anyone asks me about my love life.

“You do realise… ...a civilisation’s only hope?” I think this was Sylvie’s way of making sure Loki’s (albeit grey) morals and drinking habits don’t interrupt her plan.

The train sure gives me Snowpiercer vibes.

Do I have to talk about Drunk Loki?

Tom’s singing voice is lovely.

Sylvie’s eyes shift nervously to the door and then back to Loki. She’s initially tense but she relaxes slightly though she knows she’s gonna have to clean up the mess.

“Nobody cares. It’s the end of the world.” Again, Loki’s headspace is one where existence is futile.

The green walls contrast the purple lighting nicely.

You can see plants (?) from the outside if you look out the windows. Talk about attention to detail.

Bruh what is the dagger about? Drunk Loki’s a comedic genius.

The descending notes in the background of Loki’s fireworks.

Sylvie’s smile when she goes to attack is animalistic. I’d like to see her character explored more in terms of how she views violence.

YEET.

“You’re right. I’m a god.” Loki’s defense mechanism is to state that his motives are above the understanding of others.

“You’re a clown.” Sylvie tells it as it is.

Loki and Sylvie’s reactions to the TVA contrast the most here. Sylvie is potentially motivated by vengeance or a need for revenge whilst Loki has resigned to numbing the pain (for now at least) as he comes to terms with his reality. The question of what drives you is so important for these characters, I’m excited to see whether they’ll find a common ground and wreak havoc on the sacred timeline.

Loki and Sylvie both struggle with communicating in a healthy way. Sylvie calls him out on his directionlessness and Loki tells her what may be the harsh reality of her plan. Neither of them are willing to accept it, but there’s potential for a strong bond if they do.

Sylvie’s scream lmao.

I love the colour of Loki’s pants.

Problem? Solution! Do thing! Is Sylvie’s method of thinking when all is lost.

Gosh I love the shots in this episode.

“That’s a pretty good life.” Sylvie’s definitely not lived as a royal, or not from what she remembers.

“I just need to know if I can trust you.” Sylvie giving up how she enchants people is an olive branch because as useful as the things that Loki told her may have been for manipulation, they both know the importance of her upper hand. But she only relents once Loki doesn’t have the TemPad. Later, when she asks whether she can trust Loki, it’s more of a reassurance because he’s already been vulnerable around her.

The actor’s body language and facial expressions are incredible. Loki’s eyebrow’s furrow slightly when Sylvie mentions C-20’s mind but Tom takes a second for the information to be processed rather than instantly reacting to Sophia’s next line. She does the same when Loki talks about the TVA workers being created. What skilled people they are.

The city is a wonderful piece of set design.

“We do, and you can.” They step into the light, neither of them have tunnel vision and are able to see a bigger picture.

“They’re gonna let these people die.” This show explores a side of Loki we haven’t seen before, his morality and compassion. He has grey areas that could be explored in the next season. It also points back to how Sylvie and Loki differ in their view of others. I think this is partially because of their childhoods. Loki was raised as a prince and cared about his people, but Sylvie doesn’t share that perspective (“...they usually survive”), maybe because of her past. Hopefully in the upcoming episodes we’ll get a bit more of her backstory.

That sequence is beyond words. The constantly rotating and revolving camera really hammers home that it’s a disorienting fight for their lives at the end of the world. I’m speechless, just watch it.

The music in that blue-purple-pink club was banging tho.

Loki and Sylvie’s posture, facial expression and general body movement is similar. The variant point is hammered home here.

It’s interesting how Loki is in shock/denial of the Ark being destroyed whereas Sylvie immediately leaves.

The end music of this episode is beautiful. I love how it all builds to leave us on the soft tones of Dark Moon.

No one’s interested, but my mum and I bonded over the Jim Reeves version of this song and the Bonnie Guitar one.

Ep 3 review

Short episode with not much going on other than character development. However, if the first two were anything to go by, this episode will have greater implications on the plot. The pacing of this show is a bit strange, but we may see this change in the next season.

I mentioned previously that it would be a shame if the entire plot of this episode was made irrelevant by how they get off Lamentis - 1 next ep. This show has been really good at keeping us on our toes with the writing so they probably won’t take turns that have been speculated.

Happy mid-season guys! The following two episodes were apparently Tom’s favourites so we can expect some mayhem up ahead. See you next time!

Here's the link to my Ep 2 review

[flowers-for-nuz]

ok so i’ll never get any work done until harry follows louis back lol so i wrote a short lil drabble to soothe my heart (also because @lwtiswonderundersummersky said someone should write a fic about this haha) 

anyway, here ya go. about 1200 words of Louis nervously waiting for Harry to follow him back! 

***

‘To all the boys, I love you so much.”

Louis taps his fingers nervously against the back of his phone, resisting every urge to peek at the screen and see if there is a notification light flashing. He’d turned it on silent after he’d hit the ‘follow’ button – had kind of wished he could fling it into the sea too (or himself, he wasn’t picky). But what’s done is done.

Harry must already have gotten the notification. And the fans would’ve picked up on it immediately, Louis knew that. The video had just aired (it was the shittiest thing he’d ever seen – well, okay no, the iHeartRadio one had been the shittiest – but he’d signed off on it without complaining because of that one little scene – the way their beds had been pushed together, his phone visible on the second one while Harry’s was clearly charging next to him. Louis smiles at the memory and vaguely turns towards his laptop. Perhaps he could have another watch while he waited.)

(He still can’t believe the band’s management had approved the video…)

Louis logs back in and pulls up the tab he already has open. It’s been nearly 30 minutes since it’s aired but the views are steadily climbing, and so are the comments. His gaze falls onto his phone – he’s turned it over in a weak attempt to combat the irresistible temptation (so far it’s working – or is it?)

He swears the butterflies inside him are multiplying like rabbits. It feels like he’s a lovesick teen again, running his hands through curls and pinching cheeks he would’ve kissed more often if only he’d known how their time together had an expiration date. He shakes his head firmly and pushes down on his breastbone in an effort to calm himself. It was all over. He was free. H was free.

(Reaching out is always the hardest part…) But – I love you so much – that had really brought Louis to his knees. He knew it was for all the boys, but the ‘so much’ – it had been years since he’d said anything like this.

The ridiculous anniversary video is still playing in the background but Louis sinks his face into Clifford’s fur, breathing in slowly. He’s had the dogs back for a while now and their physical comfort is something he’d missed more than he’d thought he would. Hopefully, they’ll never have to leave his side again. He murmurs nonsense into the dog’s back as Bruce snuffles into his socked feet.

(He’d spent the entire morning in his sweats and no shirt; cuddling Clifford and Bruce in lieu of a dimple-cheeked boy, watching old fanvideos, compilations, performances and interviews on YouTube. The sofa is still littered with empty crisps wrappers and a couple of tissues because fuck it, he’d cried okay.)

The video ends and there’s silence in the room once again. Did he even watch it? He doesn’t think so.

Louis looks at the time.

Fifteen more minutes. I can do it.

He sighs heavily and raises his face. Clifford whines but doesn’t move otherwise. Louis rubs a hand over his face and through his hair. It’s gotten so long – does H know he’s growing it out too? Has he seen the photo of him? Did it make him think of that conversation they had back in 2013 when he’d shyly asked Lou Teasdale if he could grow his hair out a bit and Louis had immediately asked for the same? Did he remember how they’d grinned at each other in silly solidarity (it was just a haircut – or the lack of one – but it felt like so much more).

Twelve minutes, goddamnit.

Louis looks around his empty house. It’s a fucking mess, he’ll admit it. He’s been holed up in here for the past few weeks, only leaving once or twice. But he cant bring himself to do anything about it – there’s something in his stomach – a rock or perhaps a whole fucking island – he needs to know. He needs to know if they’re repairable. If he still has a chance.

He’s even more nervous than he was when his album was about to be released – with all of its ‘loud’ references (as fans would call it) – his heart laid bare for Harry to see.

Eight.

Fuck it. Louis reaches for his phone, only to shrink away at the last second. He doesn’t know what would be worse – checking before his self-appointed time and finding no notification from Harry, or checking it later and still seeing no notification. How long must he allow his heart to pause its hammering before settling into disappointment?

Bruce snuffles into his feet again and Louis reaches down to pet his nose, his thumb slipping over his sock because of the movement. It falls to his ankle and Louis gazes at his exposed triangle tattoo, feeling his heart burn. There’s been so much hurt. So much they’ve had to hide. He swallows back tears, willing himself to remain composed.

There’s a lyric crashing through his brain right now – it’s sad and it’s selfish but he jots it down on his open laptop anyway. Maybe it’ll make its way into his next album, maybe it won’t. Maybe Harry will hear it one day and Louis will get to tell him the story behind it and he’ll laugh and Harry will laugh because they can.

Three minutes.

Louis squeezes his eyes closed and slumps back into the couch. If he sits very quietly and very still for the next one-eighty seconds, will it be more or less likely that Harry would’ve followed him back?

More likely, Louis thinks vaguely. Patience is rewarded, right? Right.

He cracks one eye open, grateful there’s no one around to witness his pitiful actions. One minute.

He leans forward more eagerly than he meant to, his eyes zeroing in on the phone. It’s been almost a full hour. He knows Harry is in Italy. He knows there’s no time zone issues. He also knows Harry doesn’t have plans today (okay, so what if Louis did a bit of intense stalking to find out this particular information?)

Ten seconds.

His fingers hover over the sides of the phone. It’s a clear case. Really basic. He wonders what sort of phone case Harry has.

Five.

Four.

What if Harry hasn’t followed him back?

Two.

One.

Louis turns it over, just in time to catch the tail-end of the familiar notification light. His heart leaps. His hands are shaking as he unlocks it. Pulls down the notification bar. Stops breathing.

Harry Styles is now following you on Instagram.

And –

Harry Styles sent you a message.

Louis almost drops the phone. His mouth dry as fuck, he taps on the notification.

“Lou. It’s been too long.”