#The original post was more eloquent and longer

[i-think-sometimes]

An argument I use whenever someone is using opinions to an unreasonable degree:

Me: Well, bikinis make me feel cold just looking at them, but you don't see me trying to stop people.

Them: that holds no argument over how (insert gender identity, sexuality, religion, etc) is evil.

Me: if everything someone decided was uncomfortable was evil I would have bikinis banned.

Them: But I like bikinis...

Me:

Them: Oh. You could just say I'm being unreasonable.

Me: Nobody listens when I use normal words. Or at all. You trapped me in this conversation. Suffer with me (this part is never actually said, because I am too nervous in real life.)

But yeah. Someone unreasonable you can't just get away from? Bikini argument them.

[commander-rahrah]

Talking to the Moon: Part V

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader Word Count: ~6200 Warnings: emotional hurt/comfort, arranged marriage, slight family angst aka daddy issues? I'm terrible at these

archiveofourown: here

masterlist: here

part I: here part II: here part III: here part IV: here

Summary: Set at the end of Act II, after Moonrise Towers and Kethric. Reader/Tav leans on Astarion and reveals more about their family and their story from before the Nautiloid.

Notes: I've emerged from my cave I made on the couch in my basement and finally finished this update! I got bronchitis a week or so ago and it kicked my booty, but I'm finally feeling better!! YAY! I have no voice still, but good thing I don't need that to write fanfiction!

So this update reveals more of our Selune blessed Tav's backstory that is based off my original D&D character. I was really hung up on whether or not I should include more backstory and lore for this GN!Tav/Reader, since it isn't very typical for a lot of the gn!reader fics I've read. But it was giving me such writers block if I did not include it, as I honestly have the rest of this fic completely planned out and the endgame I have for this pairing relies on more of this backstory, so I decided to include it! Also, its my fic… and my character sooo I hope you enjoy my baby and the little story I wrote for them five years ago. This character will have a special place in my heart forever, and I'm excited to share more of them with you all!

I also desperately wanted to include a scene of Astarion and Tav/Reader kissing for the first time since his confession and them setting boundaries about physical intimacy and contact. I know the game just lets you click the kiss option right away, but I like to think its something that Astarion would build himself up to again and would maybe even have to relearn — not kissing like it was a performance, but instead an expression.

Thank you for reading and sharing your thoughts! It means so much to me and every time I see a notification! It fills me with infinite joy ♡♡♡ I know there is lots of posts circulating about this and tags get filled with it, but reblogs and comments are so so appreciated!! :)

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He wasn’t sure how you did it. Astarion was exhausted, beyond that actually — shattered. His feet were stiff and aching, his mind fuzzy with weariness. Yet you were still smiling, accepting the gratitude of every single person at the Last Light Inn with humble nods and smiles. He’d never had a longer day in his life. The temple, the Shadowfell, Shadowheart, Moonrise Towers, the goddamn Absolute. Gale... Gods, you had talked down Gale from fulfilling the desire and demands of an actual goddess. All in one day. All he wanted to do was to fall into a bed with you, and sleep. To just pretend for one moment that there wasn’t any marching armies or impending vampire masters waiting in Baldur's Gate. To ignore the thrum of anxiety and fear that coursed through him as he remembered exactly what was carved into his back — what Raphael had finally revealed to him. Just for today, he had wanted to rest. But no — the end of this never ending day was to finish with a celebration. An annoying, lively celebration.  The vampire was being stereotypical as ever — standing in a shadowy corner, moody and silent as he nursed a red glass. It was wine. Gale had found a decadent bottle, buried away and forgotten about on some dusty shelf. The wizard had made an eloquent toast to the group gathered on the bottom floor of the inn. But he was now standing with Wyll — the two of them conversing politely with a pair of obviously flirtatious tieflings. Karlach had her arm wrapped around Damon, the two of them chatting enthusiastically and laughing.  Astarion was surprised to not see Shadowheart by Karlach — the two of them inseparable as of late. No, what was more shocking was that the dark-haired cleric was sat next to Lae’zel. Their mouths barely opening as they spoke to each other in low voices, buried under the noise of the celebration in the inn.  He almost choked on the sip he had just taken as his red eyes finally returned to you — where several people were forming a makeshift line to speak with you. The next one more bashful than the last as they leaned in to speak with you, all flushed cheeks and batting eyelashes.  You always had a certain charm about you, an innate ability to draw out easy smiles and laughs from others. You were also undeniably attractive — anyone who said otherwise would be a blind idiot. But other people being enraptured by you had never bothered him before. He had just silently agreed with them — that yes, you were indeed a prize like no other.  But you were his now, weren’t you? As he was yours. Even without the label or words that he still couldn’t figure out how to say. That he was too afraid to say. Regardless, why were you entertaining these fools?

He'd not felt this before — was it jealousy? Gods, he was being like a petulant child who didn't want to share their toy. You were a person, you could make your own decisions. That was the entire point of all of this. 

What was he going to do — follow you around like a lost puppy? Drape himself over you, clutch onto you like a coat so others would see he was with you? 

You must have felt his red eyes piercing through you as you suddenly flicked your eyes over to meet his gaze. Your face instantly brightened, a smile tugging on your lips. An overwhelming sense of relief went through him as you waved apologetically to the small group in front of you, before weaving your way over to his dark corner. 

"Yes, darling?" He drawled as you approached, trying to hide any emotion betraying on his face as he tipped his wine glass in front of it and took another sip. 

"Why are you hiding away in this corner? Not feeling like being paraded around like a hero?" You said sarcastically. 

Astarion rolled his eyes at you, replying dryly, "I am many things, but a hero, I am not."

You leaned in conspiratorially, lowering your voice until it was just a whisper. "I would beg to differ. But you have a reputation to uphold, don't you?"

He barked out a laugh, before flicking you in the nose gently. "You cheeky pup." 

"Ow." You feigned, scrunching your face up at him. "That hurt." 

A wave of courage swept through him as he pushed back the little voice in his head. He leaned forward and pecked his lips onto the tip of your nose. He hoped the tingle that spread across his lips as they met your skin would spread to you. It seemed it did as your skin then flashed a delicious, brilliant shade from surprise. A tiny squeak even escaped you, your eyebrows shooting up. 

You had not kissed, not since his confession. Not since all of this had started. Not a brush of lips against hands or cheeks, nothing. The look on your face and the sudden increase in the thrum of your heart had him feeling light headed. Did he truly have such an effect on you? 

For a moment, he let his gaze from you lapse as he swept his eyes across the inn. To the disappointed glances of a few partygoers, and the knowing looks of his companions, watching the pair of you interact. 

A flash of gratification went through him, satisfied at the effect he had not just on you but at those who had eyed you before. It squashed the jealously that had made a pit in his stomach, instead twisting it with a new, slowly recognizable feeling. 

"There, all better?" He smirked. 

You let out a breathy laugh, nodding at him. 

Astarion rubbed his lips together, the tingling sensation on them lingering still. "How much longer does the Hero of the Shadowlands need to stay down here?"

You looked over your shoulder to the gathered patrons, the crowd thinning out more and more as the evening faded into a dark, late night. "Bored already?" 

He let out a weary sigh, letting his shoulders droop. "Exhausted, darling. And I know you are too." 

You were always a sight to see, holding a beauty he could have never imagined or conjured up in his head. But he could see the purple circles under your eyes, the usual sparkle in them had long gone dull. 

Your eyes flickered to your boots, nodding your head in defeat. "You're right." 

"I believe they have set some rooms aside for us, if you wish—"

"Do you?" You caught him off, trying to hide your own eagerness.  

His gaze softened, a smile tugging on his lips, "Very much so."

The pair of you bid goodnight to your companions quietly, subtle nods and waves as they continued their own conversations or headed to their own rooms. Astarion walked slightly behind you on the stairs, his hand resting gently on the small of your back as you led the way.  The path you took was familiar, the worn floor boards creaking before you were outside the private room the two of you had occupied once before.

Astarion let out a sigh of relief as he closed the door softly behind him, the sounds from the lingering party below muffled and leaving you in a peaceful quiet. But as he found reprieve in finally being alone, you suddenly crumbled.

You dived for the bed, a heartbreaking sob escaping you as your hands covered your face. 

Your name choked out him before he crossed the room quickly and joined you on the edge of the mattress. Gods, what was it about this Inn and room that had you breaking apart on it? "Darling, what's wrong?" He asked, concern etching every feature.

"I- I, didn't-"

He remembered your words earlier today — gods, was that today? How comforting his touch was for you, being reminded of his presence. He placed his hand carefully on your own that was trembling on your thigh as you tried to speak. 

You finally gasped out, "She wasn't there, she wasn't-"

Mol. The little tiefling girl. You had promised those rascal children downstairs you'd find her. And it was you who had told them she wasn't in Moonrise tonight, swallowing deeply as they dipped their heads with disappointment. But you had told them not to give up hope, that she was resourceful and strong. You had sounded so convincing that even he had believed you. 

But here you were, sobbing and breaking apart in front of him. "Oh, sweetheart. Gods, I should have seen this, I'm sorry."

You sniffled, glancing up at him with wide eyes. "Why are you apologizing?"

He gave you a sad smile, his eyes shining with understanding, "I know you better by now. It was a mask you were wearing tonight...," He tucked a stray hair back behind your ear. "I hate it when you wear it."

"I just wanted everyone to be okay, I tried so hard..." Your voice cracked and broke. 

"You've done so much, darling. Look at what we did today, that was because of you." 

You always took care of everyone else. But who took care of you? Astarion thought, perhaps... him. He could… he would.

He had been.

"Oh my little moon, you don't have to carry the world by yourself, you know?" 

You sniffled and nodded, silver still lining the bottoms of your eyes. 

"May I?" He echoed the question you so often asked of him. You'd never touched him without asking the question first. Your consent you'd granted him was a separate conversation, one where you had told him casual, simple touches were okay. A silent conversation and agreement sometimes was exchanged with a look of your eyes. But with him, you had always asked. He thought that now he would return that favor to you, as you opened yourself to him — vulnerable and upset once again on the edge of this mattress. 

He hoped you appreciated the sentiment, as much as he did.

The vampire reached down, hovering his hands over your boots. Your brows furrowed slightly before you were nodding. Your eyes never left his pale fingers as he untied the laces of your boots, gently prying them off before setting them down neatly at the foot of the bed. Then he did the same to his own before he slid his way up the bed, leaning against the headboard before patting the spot next to him. 

"Come here." 

You hesitated, before beginning to scooch over to him. When he opened his arms as a silent invitation you hesitated again. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. Please come here." He nodded solemnly.  

Astarion willed himself to keep steady and clear, drawing a breath he truly did not need. He enveloped you in his arms as you laid next to him, trying to stop his limbs for stiffening. It was all so foreign, it was terrifying. 

But your familiar scent filled his nose, and he could feel the steady rhythm of your heartbeat with your chest pressed to his side. His fingers laxed as you settled into him, bunching into the material of your shirt. Your breaths started calming and eyes fluttering as you laid with him. 

"Is this okay?" You whispered — uncertainty laced every word. 

"I was just going to ask you the same thing."  He said softly, before swallowing thickly. "I don't know what I'm doing." You started to remove your limbs his, but he tightened his hold on you. "Don't, please."

"Astarion if you aren't comfortable—"

"I am, it's not that." He rubbed the soft material of your shirt between his fingers as he spoke, "I want so badly to be this for you, to be what you need. But I don't know how."

You craned your neck up to look at him, "I think you're doing a good job of it."

He looked down at you through his long lashes, "Truly?"

"Yes, Astarion." You sounded genuine, "No one... no one has ever made me feel the way you do."

He let out a sigh of contentment, settling in deeper with you before resting his chin on the top of your head. "I know we have so much left to do... But laying here with you. It makes it worth it."

"Are you scared?" You asked in a whisper. 

"Terrified, actually." He admitted. 

Your thumb rubbed across his stomach in smooth lines back and forth, "I will be with you every step of the way."

"That's part of what makes it all so terrifying." The vampire whispered, "Sometimes, I know that I couldn't do any of this without you by my side. But other times... when Ketheric turned into that thing, that abomination, with you looking so small in front of him..."

"I know." 

Astarion moved his head so he could look at your face, "You were right though." 

"Hmmm?" You hummed. 

"This is nice. Gods, when did I get so soft?" He chuckled, the movement of his chest vibrating your head until you joined him. 

Both of your faces were etched with bliss and contentment as you laid in the bed. On this bed where before he had laid awake, willing himself to fall into a trance, convincing himself to keep his distance from you, trying to protect himself from the inevitably of you. 

Now, you both fell asleep like that, still in your regular attire, wrapped in each other's arms with your head buried on his chest.

The stars caressing their moon. 

• • •

The journey towards Baldur's Gate was turbulent and nerve-wracking while also... hopeful. 

The group was buzzing with energy — the anticipation of returning to Baldur's Gate had made some of your companions restless in more ways then one. 

You were all sat for a short rest, relaxing in a patch of long, green grass just off of the dirt road you were traveling on. It was just your group now, the other parties and groups had begun moving at different paces and times until it was just your familiar companions now. 

Astarion was laid out in the grass, his head resting on your lap and your fingers absent-mindedly playing with his soft, white tresses. His eyes were closed, basking in the glow of the sun that was set high in the sky at this time of day. Occasionally the shadows on his face would bounce as his long lashes flickered, opening his eyes to glance at you with a dreamy expression on his face. 

It made your movements stutter each time you noticed it. But the grip he had on your heart — that was steady and true. He had possessed you in a way you still could not articulate, even all these weeks later. 

But you blinked back to reality as Gale's voice broke the silence. "You're a beautiful couple." 

You looked up, a sheepish smile spreading across your face from being noticed. Astarion craned his neck, his red eyes rolling back to look at the wizard before settling back into your lap with a disinterested look crossing his face. 

"Oh, I'm sorry... I'm made things awkward, haven't I?" Gale mumbled, his hands twirling with the blades of grass in front of him. 

You couldn't help the blush that was spreading across your cheeks at the attention. Especially as you realized the rest of your companions were looking over with small smirks. 

Gale continued as you remained silent, "I just meant that... Well, its nice to see my friends so happy. That's all." 

"Thank you, Gale." Astarion drawled, readjusting himself so he laid deeper on your lap. 

The wizard blinked in surprise, "You're welcome. Are you — is it a secret, or?"

"Not a secret, no." The vampire purred with a shake of his head. 

"We are just taking our time." You finished, a soft smile growing on your face to match the one spreading across Astarion's. 

"Hmm, that's nice." Gale trailed off, a wistful expression on his face. 

Before the silence could really settle in again, the rest of the party started a conversation up. 

"Won't be long now until we get to Baldur's Gate." Wyll said, his face hard to read. 

"Are you nervous?" Karlach stretched her long leg, nudging him in the ankle playfully. 

His mouth scrunched and nose crinkled, "I... I don't know how to feel."

"I can't fucking wait! I'll be able to show you guys my old stomping grounds!" The barbarian said excitedly, falling back dramatically into the grass with her limbs spread wide. She addressed you, shouting up to the blue sky, "What about you, Giggles? Excited to see home again?"

"Oh," Your fingers froze, hovering over Astarion's hair. "I had only lived in the city for just under a year. Home will always be in the north."

"The north? I don't think I've heard you speak of your home much." Shadowheart asked quietly, a quizzical look on her face. 

"I, yes— near the Ice Spires." Your mouth twitched.

"You hail from a noble line, yes?" Gale asked. Everyone was eyeing you with curiosity, even Astarion still stretched out on your lap. His red eyes shifting slightly as he studied you. 

You swallowed, painting on a polite smile before speaking, "My father is a Viscount. He is a formidable figure in the region." 

"Ah." The warlock grimaced, his eyes sad. "Why do I get the feeling our stories are more similar than I realize?"

You bristled. "I'm not exiled or anything... It's just been some time. That's all."

"That's all?" 

A humorless laugh escaped you, "I am a second born child. And my older brother is much more obedient and better suited to the game of politics than I am." You couldn't help the sad, bitter smile that spread across your face. The thought of home stung in more ways then one. 

Astarion noticed how tense you had become, his hand squeezing your knee as he pushed himself up with a dramatic huff. "We are never going to get to the city if we sit here lounging all day." 

You shot him a grateful look, and he gave you the slightest nod in recognition as he offered his hand to lift you up. He did so easily, brushing off blades of grass lingering on you both gently. 

"You were the one complaining not long ago about how long we had been walking for!" Gale said, sounding completely exasperated as Wyll helped him up.   

"Me? I said that? I don't think so." The rogue playfully scoffed, shaking his head so his soft curls bounced dramatically. He looked over his shoulder at you with a conspiratorial smile before stretching his hand out for you. His fingers intertwined with yours easily as he pulled you along the dirt path, away from the questioning and burning curiosity of the rest of the party. 

• • •

Your group finally settled down for the night — picking a small clearing just off of the well-worn, dirt path you had been traveling down. Perhaps the last time you would be sleeping in the wilderness. You would be at Wyrm's Crossing by midafternoon tomorrow. 

Astarion had set up your tent on the edge of camp, attempting to give you both some sense of privacy from your busybody companions. He knew they meant well, that they hadn't meant for this afternoon to turn into an interrogation. That, like him, they were just curious to know more about you. As kind and good you were to all of them, you were still somewhat of a mystery. You had revealed the origins of your powers to the group yes, but you rarely spoke about yourself or your home.

Not even to him. 

The vampire had been content to let it lie. He knew it would come with time — and he certainly couldn't make any demands of you. Not after how gracious and patient you had been with him. But he couldn't deny that part of him wanted to know more. Astarion had somehow become an open book with you — revealing and exploring parts of himself that he had buried down so deep that he was surprised he could find them. 

He worried that it all had been about him for so long. His trauma, his past, his goals. That maybe you had kept parts of yourself hidden away, on the back burner for him. 

You had your back turned to him at the moment, the golden flickering of the candles in the tent illuminating the curve of your spine and freckles across your bare skin. Your muscles stretched and tensed beautifully as you lifted your arms over your head —pulling your nightclothes over yourself as you changed in the corner. It was a boundary that was set much earlier, that he had slowly started making less and less strict. 

He wasn't ready for anything more yet — he knew that. But his red eyes couldn't help but roam your figure. He couldn't help the familiar sensation of want twisting low in his stomach, the twitch of his fingers at his side as he imagined running his fingertips over your soft skin again.  

The smile you gave him as you turned around was dazzling, even in the dim light and tight space of the shared tent. You joined him cross-legged in the center of the tent, both of you not quite ready to go to sleep just yet. 

He picked at his nail for a moment, trying to seem nonchalant as he opened his pink mouth to speak. "So... the Ice Spires?"

You raised a single eyebrow, a hard to read look crossing the rest of your features. "Yes?" 

His fingers continued to fidget in front of him. "It's cold... all the time?"

"Not all the time. Our winters can be brutal though." You said with a scrunched nose. 

"Oh, what a lovely sell. I can't wait to go now!" He said sarcastically. 

"Ha." You laughed dryly, before your voice turned wistful. "It's beautiful honestly... I miss it."

The vampire studied your face as you undoubtedly saw visions of your home in your mind's eye. The edges of his lips curved up as he remembered your promise to take him there one day. He broke you out of your daydream with a quiet cough before he spoke again, "You don't have to tell me, if you don't want. But why did you leave there, darling?"

Your eyes flashed to the floor of the tent, your mouth forming a hardline. "Promise me you won't be upset?" Your voice was barely a whisper. 

His eyebrows furrowed together at your reaction. He took two fingers, dipping them under your chin so you would look up at him. "Why would I be upset? You leaving home for whatever reason is why you are here now. With me."

Your eyes softened with his answer, before you nodded. Yet you still licked your lips nervously before speaking, "Well... you know that Selûne told my mother I would be destined for a different path then the life of nobility. My mother agreed to it all those years ago, both my parents knew and yet... they still hoped they could reel it all back in. That enough etiquette and language lessons would shape me into the perfect child they hoped I would be. But it was never me. I tried for them, I really did. Instead I started to fantasize about the people in our history lessons like they were characters in a book, and I spoke too loud and laughed at the wrong moment at dinner." 

Astarion couldn't help the smile that spread across his face as he imagined you as a child — your face round and soft with innocence, your brilliant smile with missing teeth. The havoc that you would have caused, racing down wealthy halls as you acted out scenes from your books and danced in an empty ballroom with your melodic laugh echoing in the space. A piece of himself he had long forgotten about twinged inside him. He couldn't remember his own childhood anymore — it was lost to the last two hundred years of darkness. But something warmed in him as he dreamed up what yours was like. 

He snapped back to reality as you spoke again. "But I had a duty. I'm the second born, I wasn't being primed to one day take over for our father and run the keep, but I could be used in other ways. I've known of it since I was twelve."

His white brows furrowed again, "Known what?"

"When I became of age I would be married off to secure wealth and political ties with other territories. I'm engaged... technically." You admitted. 

His eyes dropped immediately to your fingers, the several jewels that adorned them from the moment he met you. He had never thought anything of them — thinking they were an artful display of rings that matched your personality and appearance well. But there it was — a golden ring of much higher quality then the rest, with a large ruby sitting in the center of it. Gods, how had he missed that. 

"Oh my gods. I'm a homewrecker." Then he burst out laughing, his head thrown back and his hands holding his stomach as he howled.

"Astarion, you'll wake up half the camp!" You leaned forward and hissed. 

"I'm sorry, I just —" He let out between gasps of breath, "It's so funny. Of course the person I fall for is to be wed to someone else."

You joined his chuckles, shaking your head. "It is like a cliché plotline from some terrible drama."

"It is! Or like a punchline to some joke. Did you hear the one about the vampire and the fiancé?" You both laughed for a moment, before he clutched onto your hand and squeezed it reassuringly.  

"So you aren't upset?" Your voice a whisper again, uncertainty flooded every word. 

"Upset? Darling, why would I be upset?" 

You huffed out an exasperated breath, "Astarion, I just told you I am betrothed to another person."

"And you are on the other side of the continent from them. Not married. And sitting in my tent. Is this why you left?"

Your eyes widened in surprise, "Yes, we planned it all out actually— my betrothed and I." 

"Really?"

You nodded, "They had also spent the last years troubling over it, attempting to delay it for as long as possible." 

"I'm assuming getting kidnapped by mind flayers was not apart of that plan?" He said with a smirk. 

"Definitely not. I so badly wanted to travel, to see the world outside of our keep I'd known my whole life. So... they insisted to my family that they needed a spouse that was learned and well-traveled. That I could enroll in a college to become a more suitable match."

Astarion raised a white brow, "And that worked?"

"It did. I think my father was so desperate for it all to work out that they just agreed."

"And how did you attending a college lead you to Baldur's Gate so many miles away from home?" 

You let out a dry chuckle, "I will say that I did go to the college like I intended. I lasted a week. Just long enough to purchase supplies and stationary from the college before paying for a spot on the next wagon out of Silverymoon." 

"Stationary?"

"I've been sending letters home for the past year, using stationary from the college so my family believes I'm still there studying and being a model citizen." 

He raised his eyebrows, a smirk spreading across his lips. "I'm impressed. That's very conniving... I didn't know you had it in you."

You smiled sheepishly, your fingers twisting in your lap. "I'll admit it was a clever idea. I ran out of supplies about a month before the Nautiloid." 

He pursed his lips as he finally understood, "They haven't heard from you since then?"

You shook your head, "No. I imagine my father has sent some of his men to check on me, and they have long discovered that I took back my tuition deposit and left months and months ago." 

"This whole time we were worried about a vampire master storming our camp, when really it could have been a disgruntled father or worried mother finding us?"

A large exhale left your nose as you shook your head, "Oh, my father would never come himself. He would just send his second-best men and a strongly worded letter ordering me back home. My mother though... I can only imagine how she betrayed and worried she feels." 

The vampire squeezed your hand again before running his thumb along the backs of your knuckles. "Why did you never tell me this?" 

"Astarion, the hardship and abuse that you went through...," Your eyes shined with pain, "My story is nothing compared to yours."

"Your story is not nothing." He shook his head, his voice earnest. "Your story is you — and you are everything. Never spare parts of yourself from me." 

"Even the messy parts that years of etiquette lessons couldn't train away?"

He let out a breathy laugh before smiling at you, "Especially those parts, my lovely moon." 

"You have gone soft on me, Starry." You teased before matching his smile. 

• • •

After another day of travel, you stood in the abandoned castle in Wyrm's Crossing, bracing yourself on the stone wall. The skyline of Baldur's Gate could be seen from here, the distant sound of the bell's ringing heard even from here. 

Your party had finally made it — after all of these weeks. You would walk the familiar cobblestone streets of Baldur's Gate tomorrow. The familiar scents and sounds of vendors and citizens, the bustle and crowds would be so different from the wilderness and forests you had been traveling through. 

The group's energy was buzzing as you settled for camp in the abandoned castle — a strange mixture of excitement and nerves. Astarion hadn't hidden his feelings with you — his anxieties and insecurities surfacing with every step closer and closer to the city limits. With every step closer to Cazador and his ritual. Hundreds of different ideas were bouncing around his head, you could tell. 

Yet your confession to him last night was still replaying in your head, especially as your stared at the ring on your left finger — the red gem catching the light. You weren't sure why you wore it anymore. A habit, you guessed. 

The sound of purposeful, shuffling feet announced that you were no longer alone. Craning your neck you looked over to see the man who normally consumed your thoughts, climbing the stone steps that led up to the falling apart battlements you stood on.

"What are you doing up here, darling?" 

"Just taking a moment."  You admitted as you loosed a heavy breath. "And you?"

"Oh, just over pretending to be interested the idle chat by the fire." Astarion waved his hand, before sliding in next to you. He braced his elbows onto the edge looking out over to the skyline. You watched him take a deep steadying breath, his eyebrow crinkled with worry for a moment. 

You fiddled unconsciously with the golden ring on your left hand as you watched him. The movement caught the vampire's attention, his red eyes snapping to it before looking up at you. He chewed the inside of his lip, before speaking, "Can I ask you a question?"

Your stomach tightened with sudden nerves, "Of course."

"This wedding... Your arranged marriage." 

"Hmm?" You hummed. 

His pale throat bobbed as he swallowed, "Would you have gone through with it? If there was no Nautiloid, no tadpole — none of this. Would you have gone through with the arrangement?"

A heavy sigh escaped you as you pushed your elbows off of the stone edge and stood up, "I would have... I would have tried. It felt inevitable before — inescapable."

He shifted around, so he was facing you — standing to his full height and looking you in the eyes. "And now?" He whispered, his long fingers reaching to brush the insides of your wrist lightly.

"Astarion... I never could have imagined any of this. I spent my whole life fantasizing and daydreaming of an escape and grand adventure. Nothing I've dreamed up has ever come close to being with you. I have fought mind flayers and ogres, refused Gods and marched across the country so that we can keep going. So that we can have a chance. I will take my father's disappointment and wrath for ruining his plans for financial security." 

"Heh — We can add him to the list of people we've angered along the way." He joked, but his eyes were glimmering with unspoken emotion after your declaration. 

You studied the handsome man before you, your lips parting slightly as you took him in. He was radiant in the moonlight, his white hair and pale skin shining. The way his usually sharp eyes softened and rounded as he looked at you.

Gods, you loved him. You had known for sometime now that you did. The words had been crawling up your throat, lingering on your tongue and swirling in your mind for days. But you would be patient for him. 

One side of his pink mouth turned up, "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Your head cocked to the side, "Like what?"

"You..." He seemed like he was at a loss for words for a moment. He shook his head at himself, before he admitted in a whisper, "They way you look at me... you make me feel like I'm poetry."

"You are, Astarion." You said simply. Courage suddenly flooded through you. You knew you would be fine, no matter how he answered. You wouldn't dare rush him. But you wanted to ask tonight. "May I — May I kiss you?" 

He blinked in surprise before his red eyes flicked down to your lips and he unconsciously licked his own. Then he locked eyes with you, nodding breathlessly. "Yes," He whispered back, his long lashes fluttering. "Yes."

Moving your hands up slowly and gently, your fingertips gripped the side of his strong jaw. You heard his breath sharpen as you moved your face to meet his — slowly, giving him time and space, allowing him to change his mind and pull away. But he didn't. Instead his eyes closed softly, his head tilting towards yours as he waited for you to kiss him. Then your lips locked as your mouth pressed softly against his, carefully as you waited to see if he would kiss you back. A low noise escaped you as you felt his lips press harder against yours, returning the kiss. 

You had long thought of your first kiss with Astarion in the woods near the Druid's Grove all that time ago. You thought you had memorized the sweet taste of him on your lips, the scent of leather lingering from his armor and groans that made the hairs on your arms stand up. 

But this — this was so different. Not practiced, not ritualistic like he so often said. 

This new first kiss was so painfully soft and tender. He tasted like wine, rosemary and honey. His hair softer then you remembered as your finger toyed with the curled tips at the base of his neck. The happiest of sounds escaped him as he parted his lips for you, allowing you to deepen the kiss as your tongue slid across his teeth. You both stood like that for a moment, relishing in the feeling until you both felt dizzy. Your lips stuck together slightly as you pulled away. His forehead was pushed against yours, like he was no longer content to not be touching you. 

Astarion's eyes were ablaze in the moonlight as he looked at you, his mouth falling open as he caught his breath. "Again. Kiss me, again.” “Starry?” You asked, your brow twitched. “Kiss me. Please. I miss it, I've missed you." One of his hands gripped the tip of your chin as you moved your mouth back towards him, halving the movement as he pulled you back in for another kiss. The other intertwining with yours in between you, squeezing your fingers gently. 

His sharp teeth dug into your bottom lip, causing a shudder to run down your spin. "Slow down, my love." Your groaned out.

"I have — weeks of this — to catch up on." His voice was breathless and he continued to interrupt his own words as he pressed lips to yours over and over. 

You pulled away, studying his face — the skin around his mouth pink from kissing, a slight flush crossing his complexion. But his eyes were fixed on you, filled with want and need. "I'm not going anywhere, Astarion. We have time." 

"Good. " He beamed, resting his forehead on yours again as you both breathed each other in. The two of you silhouetted on the crumpling battlements as you held on to each other for a moment longer.  

Read Part VI here

[phasecomic]

Copy pasting Terry trivia and info here

Terrance is strict, fatherly, rigid and eloquent. Most of the people he’s ever been close to he ends up taking care of. He also feels compelled to teach his own way of living, wanting his loved ones to be better examples of People so they won’t reflect poorly on his own image. Past all of this strictness and judgement, Terry is a soft masochist, he’s witty, flamboyant, and a huge suck up, though this is part of his own manipulative nature, even if it’s being under someones boot, he’s sure he’s getting what he wants.

Devout christian, victim of conversion therapy. traditionalist. 

Terrance Mathew's original name is Terrance Adams, he changed it when he moved away from his home town in his 30's. He is hiding from his past but he yearns for his ex friend to return to him and mess his life up again. He victimizes himself but he has enabled alot of that behavior just for entertainment. He's very inlove. 

 Terrance is a homosexual in deep denial about it, Because of this he attempted a marriage in his 20's when pressured by those around him. It was mostly to keep appearances. 

 before changing identities he made alot of money building robots that performed small tasks for people, post change he stopped just to disassociate from his former self. He doesn't really want people to recognize him for what he's done, but he wants to show off very badly deep down. Since he has gotten a implant in his brain to dull his powers his personality completely shifted, He is fearful he is now a scrawny man who could easily be hurt by just anyone, and he suffers severe ptsd from the past abuse he endured in general

 His roommate bailey is someone he's drawn to because he reminds him of a safer version of the man he's in love with, he sometimes mixes the two up. He would never admit this though and insists he just wants to help the guy on his feet and enjoys the quiet that comes with his ability to block psi. He is very weak to Bailey's manipulation because of the connection to tony in his head. The longer he lives with him the more he sees him as his own individual self and he doesn't want to face how he feels about him. Terry and Bailey are codependent like Terry and tony were, Terry is just drawn to relationships where he is serving and being used.  

[telomeke-bbs]

OUR SKYY 2 x BAD BUDDY x A TALE OF THOUSAND STARS – A REVIEW AND PARTIAL ANALYSIS

Yes, I'm well aware that it's been more than two weeks since the Our Skyy 2 x Bad Buddy x A Tale of Thousand Stars 4-ep closer for OS2 aired, and I'm far behind the bandwagon in posting this.

Thing is, I've had to take some time to gather my garbled thoughts on how I feel about the mini-series, and I have many. Also, the longer I dawdle, the more others have posted similar musings, and I then have to edit down my own write-up to avoid repeating stuff that others more knowledgeable and eloquent than I have already made public.

This is like my fourth or fifth re-write, and I've already chucked so much aside. But now the ideas jangling in my head seem a bit more coherent, and maybe it's time to solidify them in the written word.

I think part of the block I was facing had to do with the fact that I was expecting the Bad Buddy portions of OS2 x BBS x ATOTS to be doing more than they did, and when they didn't I was left a little directionless. This is not to say I didn't enjoy the episodes though; I most certainly did. How great was it to see Pat and Pran back in action again? 😍 Even though their dynamic and storyline weren't as deeply resonating as what we saw in the original Bad Buddy, they still managed to charm me no end.

While I certainly wanted more information regarding Pat and Pran's relationship (and we did get to see a tiny bit), what I'd really been hoping for was more of the intellectual gamery that had been so carefully interwoven into the original BBS, that was densely layered with metaphor, allegory and messaging. It was also rich with linguistic wordplay and cultural content, and I was on the lookout for more of the same in OS2 the moment Pat and Pran appeared. But these were mostly missing, even though they delivered callbacks and charisma in spades.

It was only upon re-watching that a number of realizations crystallized for me, chief of which was the fact that I'd been looking for things in the wrong place. The subtextual (and even metatextual) cleverness I was expecting actually was there, but it had been woven more into the ATOTS portions instead. And while I like the original ATOTS, it didn't inspire in me the same kind of obsessive love that Bad Buddy had done, so I have never gone in for a re-watch or examined it in greater detail, and thus wasn't paying as much attention to the ATOTS portions of OS2.

More fool me. No wonder my first watch of OS2 x BBS x ATOTS missed what it did, because I kind of sped through Phupha and Tian's story, when the mini-series was leaning more on ATOTS than BBS to telegraph its messaging.

I really shouldn't have been surprised. We know that the creators of Bad Buddy (Director Aof mostly, but Ohm and Nanon were in on it too) viewed BBS as having told all that needed to be told of PatPran’s story, and this was signified by the apartment door closing on the happy couple’s continued rough-housing at the end of Ep.12.

(above) BBS Ep.12 [4/4] 18.22 and 18.23 – the door closes on Pat and Pran's story (dunno who was swinging it shut though – Nong Nao maybe? 😂)

And this is why OS2 x BBS didn’t show us events post-Ep.12, but chose instead to position the mini-series during the timeskip between Episodes 11 and 12.

So when BBS became the success it did, pressure must have mounted on all sides but especially from the higher-ups to squeeze out a sequel somehow, because it would undoubtedly be a money-spinner. But what more is there to spin out when you, the maker, are convinced that not only is the whole yarn already spun and done, the tapestry you wove from it is pretty much complete as well?

I will go so far as to say I think OS2 x BBS x ATOTS was Director Aof’s escape hatch – instead of trying to spin out more from nothing, he shone a spotlight on a previously unseen section of his opus (letting management and fans know we would be getting Pat and Pran back, but then showing us their timeskip rather than events beyond Ep.12). And a short while later he segued artfully into a related piece, wrangling PatPran into a crossover with ATOTS that would have its message revolve a lot more around PhuTian’s story instead. I'm sure we find out more about Phupha and Tian's relationship too, but I'm not going to go into it in any detail because I'm not as au fait with their backstory as I feel I am with Pat and Pran's; I'm pretty sure though that their story in OS2 was the primary vessel for deeper messaging.

And I'm glad to see that I'm not the only one to pick up on Director Aof making ATOTS do the heavier lifting – see @wen-kexing-apologist’s write-ups linked here and here.

To my mind, Director Aof's bait-and-switch (kind of a hallmark with him) was also signaled at the end of OS2 x BBS x ATOTS Ep.1 [4/4], when Pran had to hike up to Pha Pun Dao just as Tian had done in the original ATOTS.

(above) OS2 x BBS x ATOTS Ep.1 [4/4] 10.28

Pran found it as much of a physical ordeal as Tian did, and the parallel with Tian's trajectory is unmistakable (while also being oddly illogical, since Pran should still be pretty fit as an ex-rugby player while Tian is a heart transplant recipient 🤷‍♂️).

But in service of the narrative, when an exhausted Pran finally reaches his destination – it’s the waiting Phupha who faints, not Pran-as-Tian. (In the original ATOTS, it was Tian who fainted at the end of the long hike up to PPD and Phupha was the one who caught him.)

(above) OS2 x BBS x ATOTS Ep.1 [4/4] 11.28

For me, this signals that a switch-up has happened, and Phupha's story has somehow taken up continuity from Pran's (and we do see him learning from their similar experiences when they talk in the forest in Ep.3). More than just a callback to ATOTS, it also represents the moment when the red thread of the narrative, the coursing of the prana or qi, symbolically transfers from PatPran's storyline to PhuTian's.

So, summarizing the structure of this four-ep mini-series:

Ep.1 was basically a set-up to get PatPran up to the mountains, padded out with lots of gleeful fanservice moments for BBS fans (not that I'm complaining! 💖);

Ep.2 was devoted to setting out the main subject matter at hand and establishing the framework within which it would be discussed (PhuTian’s relationship, juxtaposed against PatPran’s);

Ep.3 – the jungle jaunt – introduced external conflict as the tool by which the subject could be dissected under scrutiny; and

Ep.4 was of course the resolution, drawing matters to their natural conclusion.

And with regard to Bad Buddy, what we see in OS2’s BBS portions is really a kind of compromise. It’s not a sequel to BBS by a longshot, but mostly a flourish of fanservice instead (hence the generous gifting of callbacks and re-creations of iconic moments from BBS, especially in Ep.1 of the four-parter – some scenes, like the one starting at Ep.1 [1I4] 8.31, consisted almost entirely of callbacks).

(above) OS2 x BBS x ATOTS Ep.1 [1I4] 8.47

This is not to say we don't see anything at all with regard to growth though. By situating PatPran's storyline during the timeskip between the original BBS Episodes 11 and 12, we were effectively allowed a glimpse into the state and development of their relationship sometime after the heady hormonal rush of their honeymoon period in Ep.11, and before its relative maturity in Ep.12, and there were some choice moments on display.

OS2 called this out at Ep.2 [2/4] 10.29, when Pat asked "Since we’re here in the North, should we make it our honeymoon trip?", which Pran then dismisses with a reminder of their task at hand (getting PhuTian's permission for his play).

(above) OS2 x BBS x ATOTS Ep.2 [2/4] 10.51

The honeymoon reference was a callback to BBS Ep.11, in which Pat was wanting to live indefinitely in a sort-of forever honeymoon by the sea (that even he knew was only illusory). Pran's dismissal of Pat's suggestion in OS2 was a reminder that their honeymoon period was over, and it was time for them to be dealing with the growing pains that every couple faces on their journey to a stable pairing.

What wasn't addressed in the original BBS is that PatPran's natural propensity to draw each other into conflict could not have been healthy for their longer-term relationship post-honeymoon, unless they found a way to corral the constant infighting and invent a set of gentlemen's rules that would prevent damage to their bond.

(above) BBS Ep.5 [1I4] 3.19

And I think this is part of what OS2 was trying to show us (however briefly): Pat and Pran moving toward finding a balance between loving each other and punching each other up (emotionally), despite conflict and rivalry paradoxically being the age-old rockbed of their relationship.

The following are some of the relationship dynamics that they explored in OS2:

Transitioning from an individual mindset to a couple-based one (which was highlighted by Pran's solo expedition to the mountains, before Pat managed to catch up);

Adapting to each other's personal styles (Pran's is spikier, and Pat's more embracing);

Learning about give and take, and looking for win-win outcomes rather than keeping score (in OS2, this was illustrated by how their earlier duels – like who gets the auditorium, who gets the HighTem sponsorship – were framed as zero-sum win-lose situations, where a win for one would mean a loss for the other; it was also given a nod in Pran's talk with Phupha at Ep.3 [4/4] 1.19 regarding his insecurities about who gives more in a relationship).

There are possibly others, but these are just the ones I could suss out with my one haphazard re-watch, and I'm not ready to go looking for them. 🤷‍♂️

Now I was originally going to go into these in detail, but I realize it's not what interests me the most about OS2 x BBS x ATOTS, nor do I think OS2 adequately dealt with these (and/or other) relationship issues between PatPran during the mini-series itself (as in, we aren't shown enough of Pat and Pran working together on detangling the knots in their bond for any suggested resolution at the end of the fourth episode to feel logical and satisfying).

It seems almost as though OS2 x BBS x ATOTS was expecting us to believe that PatPran's Ep.3 trial by forest (which they also went through mostly apart from each other) was enough to be some magically purifying crucible, imparting wisdom via its sufferance.

(above left) OS2 x BBS x ATOTS Ep.3 [1I4] 15.16 – Tian, Pran and Kampung lost in the forest; (above right) OS2 x BBS x ATOTS Ep.3 [1I4] 17.46 – Pat and Phupha on their wilderness search

We do know that PatPran's journey to arrive at a steady-state couplehood will continue unseen beyond OS2 and that they eventually end up on rock-solid footing, with a set of mutually-agreed ground rules for engagement that is acknowledged and respected, because it's obviously what they have in place by the time we see them in BBS Ep.12 (so much so that their relationship could withstand the difficulties of a long-distance commitment after Pran moves to Singapore).

(above) BBS Ep.12 [3I4] 8.15

I'm willing to accept this because I think OS2 x BBS x ATOTS was not meant to be a PatPran vehicle in the main, and so I will take whatever crumbs are on offer and view their forest ordeal as more metaphor than real-time depiction of their actual process to ground their relationship in greater maturity. (If you'd like to look at PatPran's learning track more in detail however, I can point you to the ever-incisive @miscellar's breakdowns linked here, here and here. 🤩👍)

But what I find really interesting about OS2 x BBS x ATOTS is when PhuTian's storyline gets drawn into the mix – and it happens much earlier than you would think on first watch.

One part of OS2 x BBS x ATOTS that stood out for me was all the discourse around the Engineering play, because quite frankly it felt incongruously spotlighted. First of all, why Snow White? And why an entire scene of Pran demonstrating the art of theater to Pat backstage? I now believe Director Aof was doing this to call attention to some underlying significance.

(above) OS2 x BBS x ATOTS Ep.1 [2/4] 9.15

Tumblr user @ranchthoughts has very astutely pointed out that the story of Snow White has many parallels with the original ATOTS (e.g., the gallant woodsman; the fragile, privileged damsel who falls in a swoon; the journey through the forest; the misappropriated heart that doubles as proof of good faith – see these links here, here and here for more 🤩👍).

(above) An illustration of the seven dwarfs finding Snow White by Franz Jüttner, from Sneewittchen (1905)

So by bringing up Snow White, Director Aof was already slyly alluding to PhuTian in OS2 x BBS x ATOTS Ep.1 [2/4].

Although it is not a strict retelling of the fairytale, I think that OS2 x BBS x ATOTS also contains elements of Snow White:

Another character (Phupha) swoons into unconsciousness (like Snow White did after biting the poisoned apple);

There is also a journey through the wilderness (mirroring Snow White's abandonment in the woods and finding her way to the dwarf house);

A cast of supporting characters parallels the seven dwarfs (Kampung is one, and this is perhaps why they dressed him in oversized windbreakers, playing with his proportions to make him seem more dwarf-like; this is also possibly why Pat jokingly mentions Korn playing one of the dwarfs in the Engineering play at Ep.1 [1I4] 13.26 – Drake may have been originally envisioned as part of the cast, in character as Rang, up in the mountains);

The magic mirror, that always tells the truth, is actually PatPran, in whom PhuTian see their own relationship problems reflected, and whose truths help them to better their own dynamic (see Phupha's comments at Ep.4 [3I4] 0.53 and 1.05 – "It has to be you two who play the parts" and "No one gets us better than these two" as well as PhuTian's more light-hearted callbacks to PatPran's cheekier moments, e.g., at Ep.4 [2/4] 1.25 and 1.59).

But it's really Pat and Pran's interaction backstage at Ep.1 [2/4] 8.54 that both illuminates and foreshadows some bigger themes to come in OS2 x BBS x ATOTS (when Pran demonstrates how a simple bench can transform onstage, depending on how you frame it for the audience via the narrative).

(above left) OS2 x BBS x ATOTS Ep.1 [2/4] 10.12 – Pran shows Pat how a bench can be a dining table; (above right) BBS Ep.3 [3I4] 9.01 – Pat shows Pran how roleplay can spark a creative bus stop design

On the surface level it's a parallel and callback to PatPran's roleplay at BBS Ep.3 [3I4] 8.38 (although flipping the roles with Pran turning educator doesn't quite gel, given that Pat was fully aware of how to use the power of imagination at the bus-stop).

It's also a tip of the hat to theater legend Peter Brook who famously said "I can take any empty space and call it a bare stage. A man walks across this empty space whilst someone else is watching him, and this is all that is needed for an act of theatre to be engaged", which invokes the same kind of metamorphic magic that turns Pran's bench into a mirror, a dwarf dining table and a glass coffin. (Peter Brook also passed away just a few months before the Our Skyy 2 trailer aired, which lends a poignancy and weight to this moment.)

(above left) Theater legend Peter Brook; (above right) OS2 x BBS x ATOTS Ep.1 [2/4] 11.03 – PatPran roleplay Snow White and the glass coffin

The bench as glass coffin is also a metaphor for the constraints that PatPran must face living their relationship in a glass closet – open to view yet limited on all sides by expectations (remembering that they've officially broken up but still have to interact in public on school matters).

And of course it's unmissable that both Snow White's glass coffin and PatPran's relationship are a metaphor for queer lives in the closet. (PatPran leaning in for a kiss on that bench only to be interrupted by a uniformed security guard, is also a tongue-in-cheek reminder about how higher authorities can and do impinge on the freedom of queer people to love freely.)

However, in the context of BL and of Our Skyy 2 as a BL anthology, OS2 x BBS x ATOTS is also a metatextual comment on the telling of queer love stories in the media. The entire four-parter can be seen as a metaphor (or more correctly, an allegory) regarding the commodification of LGBTQ+ love by the BL industry itself, if you will, as well as some of the issues this stirs up.

In OS2 we have:

PatPran turning PhuTian's love story into a drama for public consumption;

(above) OS2 x BBS x ATOTS Ep.4 [3I4] 7.00

The emphasis placed on consent for that story to be used (in the words of Ajahn Pichai at Ep.1 [2/4] 12.15, 12.31 and 12.38, and PhuTian's exchange at Ep.2 [1I4] 16.30) and the comment that partial consent is not enough (from Pran at Ep.2 [1I4] 10.18 and 20.22);

(top) OS2 x BBS x ATOTS Ep.1 [2/4] 12.38; (middle) OS2 x BBS x ATOTS Ep.2 [1I4] 16.32; (bottom) OS2 x BBS x ATOTS Ep.2 [1I4] 20.22

Phupha's objection to being portrayed as a one-dimensional love interest, reduced to only his romanticized and/or sexualized self (Ep.2 [1I4] 18.35), instead of being seen as a fully-realized human being in his own right (Ep.2 [1I4] 18.25);

(top) OS2 x BBS x ATOTS Ep.2 [1I4] 18.35; (bottom) OS2 x BBS x ATOTS Ep.2 [1I4] 18.25

Pran detecting Phupha's self-doubt and commenting at Ep.3 [4/4] 0.58: "Why do I feel like you’re just insecure and not sure if you’re good enough to tell anyone that story?";

(above) OS2 x BBS x ATOTS Ep.3 [4/4] 0.58

Phupha finally giving permission for PatPran to dramatize his and Tian's story, with the proviso that Tian and he be played by PatPran themselves (Ep.4 [3I4] 0.48).

(above) OS2 x BBS x ATOTS Ep.4 [3I4] 0.48

The parallels with the BL industry are striking. (I'm sticking with BL as the established industry here, but you could perhaps apply the same points to the nascent GL as well.) No disrespect to allies, but Director Aof is pointedly saying the following:

Queer love stories are constantly being dramatized in Thai media (by cishet-dominated parties and largely for cishet consumption) – but this is often done without the LGBTQ+ community having much say, let alone any consent, in the matter;

The commodification of queer love (especially in the BL industry) has resulted in most productions forefronting the romantic and/or sexual aspects of the narrative (understandable, because these are romance-driven), but this also has the unfortunate result of reducing the queer characters to pretty vessels for love stories, deified and/or fetishized, and with limited room for more to be said about other aspects of their queer lives;

Perhaps because of discrimination, people might still be carrying the idea in their heads that queer stories are somehow less valid than the cishet ones that dominate media (remembering how SOTUS had to break the mold for BL, and InkPa for GL) – and the call sometimes even comes from inside the house, when queer people feel that their stories may somehow be unsuitable for mainstream channels (as echoed by Phupha's insecurity, called out by Pran at Ep.3 [4/4] 0.58).

Not only are queer stories that exist beyond the romantic/sexual dimension worthy of being told in a more expansive arena (Pran's Architecture play, and its reception), the LGBTQ+ community should be mindful when control of how these stories are told and who gets to tell them is not in its hands (echoed by "neutral" Ajahn Pichai's reminder about consent, and Phupha's insistence on having a trusted couple incarnate his and Tian's story).

But remembering Director Aof's leanings toward LGBTQ+ activism in his work, it's also possible to read the drama in OS2 x BBS x ATOTS as an allegory itself for real-life situations, beyond this BL anthology's metatextual comment on the BL industry. I think that this is the ultimate message with PhuTian's story being the finale for Our Skyy 2 (landing not coincidentally during Pride Month and all).

With the metaphors in Pran's theater class backstage and the BL allegory as a launchpad, OS2 x BBS x ATOTS (and Ep.4 especially) is also allegory for queer life in a broader context:

In wider society, the narrative for queer lives has for so long been dominated by the cishet majority and dictated by it (just as the queer romances in BL have had to respond to cishet impulses).

So many queer people have to live their lives with varying degrees of (in)visibility, subject to unseen but still suffocating constraints (Snow White's glass coffin, standing in for the proverbial closet).

Queer lives often take on a performative public face and people have to pretend to be less than their whole truth (Pran's bench, actually so much more than meets the eye).

Queer individuals' self-worth and self-acceptance are influenced by the views of those outside the community, whether coming from family or larger society (Phupha's insecurity, called out by Pran at Ep.3 [4/4] 0.58).

Remembering how Heart in Director Aof's recent (and also mega-important) work Moonlight Chicken was sequestered away by his parents because he was different (i.e., he was a Heart who did not fit what they perceived as "normal"), there is also a parallel in OS2 with Tian whose heart is one step removed from what is considered the norm by wider society (being a transplant from Torfun in ATOTS).

(above) Moonlight Chicken Ep.5 [4/4] 12.23 – Heart weeps in silence at his isolation

Tian's heart often causes him pain, and he is often enfeebled or constrained by it, but even so he loves with his heart just as hard as the next guy (maybe even more, seen not just in his relationship with Phupha but also in his compassion for his students and especially the lost Kampung).

(above) OS2 x BBS x ATOTS Ep.3 [3I4] 2.57

We are shown that Tian is not willing to be held back by his difference, and expects to live his life to the fullest. It's just that he needs to live his life a little differently, and indeed he thrives when he is given the right circumstances (controlled exertion, and the right sustenance/medication) and freedom to do so. And all this is of course a metaphor for queer people, whose hearts also love differently from the cishet majority's, and who are simply asking for the freedom and space to live their best lives.

So in a sense – just as PatPran were a magic mirror to PhuTian – OS2 x BBS x ATOTS is also Snow White's magic mirror held up to its audience, reflecting truths about queer life back to all who are watching.

But as is typical of Director Aof's work, Our Skyy 2 also suffuses its message with hope, so it's not all hard truths, raw and unvarnished. The series draws to a close on an uplifting note, and as an allegory it hails on behalf of the queer community the hope of a positive future that is presented as not only attainable, but also deserved.

Homophobia is not shown to exist in this universe (as was the case with BBS and also ATOTS). So when Phupha meets up with Tian in Bangkok, they're surrounded by a supportive network of family, friends and allies who were working together to make Phupha's attendance at Tian's birthday celebration a reality.

(top) OS2 x BBS x ATOTS Ep.4 [4/4] 3.06 – Tian's birthday celebration with his parents, best friend Tul and surprise guest Phupha; (bottom) OS2 x BBS x ATOTS Ep.4 [4/4] 4.32 – Tian's parents give Phupha their blessing to marry Tian

Tian's parents also giving joyful, proud and formal blessing to their union, as well as Tul and Yod's cheerful assistance, all signal the aspirational message that a better, more accepting world is possible for the LGBTQ+ community.

And of course that super-romantic wedding proposal caps it all off:

(top) OS2 x BBS x ATOTS Ep.4 [4/4] 8.46 – Phupha kisses Tian's hand after placing the engagement ring on his finger; (bottom) OS2 x BBS x ATOTS Ep.4 [4/4] 12.16 – Phupha and Tian's post-engagement kiss by the pool

But it's not just trumpeting support for marriage equality, the cause célèbre that BL series have been championing over the past few years. Noting that Thailand is expected to legalize LGBTQ+ marriage in the coming weeks or months, queer people in the country are now daring to look to the future with much more hope in their hearts. 💖

With this as the context, Phupha and Tian's engagement in the present, with matrimonial union set for the future, can also be seen as symbolizing the hope of even better days to come – when members of the queer community will finally be afforded equal rights in all respects. And I think this has given Our Skyy 2's last episode a rainbow flourish truly worthy of Pride Month 2023. 😍

‌ P.S. Not to take away from the importance of Director Aof's vision, but this is a Bad Buddy blog after all, so I will close this write-up with a bit of a rewind back to PatPran. We didn't get to see a whole lot of information regarding their relationship growth in the four episodes of OS2 x BBS x ATOTS, but there is an Easter Egg hiding within the layers near the end. One of the issues that Pat and Pran had to deal with as a new-ish couple was how to move away from scorekeeping in their constant, competitive jostling. Their first few contests that we saw in OS2 x BBS x ATOTS were win-lose ones ("if you get it, it means that I won't", e.g., the use of the auditorium and the HighTem sponsorship), and that kind of dynamic would only have been corrosive for their couplehood in the longer term. What we see in OS2 x BBS x ATOTS is that in the end they somehow arrive at a win-win instead (just as their Ep.6 Beachside Bet in Bad Buddy sidestepped a black-and-white win-lose outcome and gave them both the winner's prize of being in love). I don't have proof that it's intentional, but Director Aof and his team are certainly clever enough to have planned it to be so. For if ATOTS really is a version of Snow White, both of them got to stage their plays (and share in the sponsorship) since Pran's play (ATOTS) is also Pat's play (Snow White). OS2 x BBS x ATOTS winks at this with Pat – an Engine boy – playing Snow White/Tian, and by showing Wai and Korn in cahoots backstage (why should Engineering student Korn be helping with the Archi play anyway?). 😍

(above) OS2 x BBS x ATOTS Ep.4 [3I4] 6.55 And then PatPran are of course forced to kiss onstage (celebrating their union in more ways than one).

(above) OS2 x BBS x ATOTS Ep.4 [3I4] 7.13 Another sly little wink from OS2, they're lovers pretending to be enemies pretending to be lovers, which in a way is also emblematic of OS2 x BBS x ATOTS's deeper message, told matryoshka-style with layers of allegorical meaning. 💖

‌

[realbeefman]

Your tags remind me of my most personal issue about House and how contradictory it is, namely that half of the time it really understands both chronic pain along with addiction while other times it has zero clue. I became disabled with chronic pain in the middle of season six (I distinctly remember trailers for that season lmao), and on the one hand you get the regret and the anger of disaster dominoes that led to the illness in the first place and the running away from pain even emotional, but on the other you have everyone psychoanalysing that the pain didn’t change who House was when it couldn’t not, slapstick falls and this cop mentality with addiction. Anyway! That was a ramble you didn’t need! Sorry!

sticking my response under a readmore because i've responded to your ramble with a longer ramble of my own

i've been trying for ages to find a much more eloquent post someone else made about how house's cop mentality ties into his character but i can't find it. it's simply lost forever to time.

my (much less coherent) take of house's cop mentality is that his attitudes towards addiction and the way he chooses to manage his own pain can be explained in-universe as an internalization of ableist rhetoric, capitalist "i'm worthless if i can't work" mentality (5x04 birthmarks "[house's dad] saw his work as some sort of... sacred calling), and as an act of self-harm (eg. purposefully using the wrong hand for his cane, even though it's established in canon that he does experience more pain when using his cane this way and still actively chooses to do so) which is an interpretation of house that i think makes the show a lot easier to engage with in fandom/ from a character analysis pov.

but i do have to agree because the overall message the show sends on chronic pain is contradictory at best and actively ableist at worst. i really really hate that the show frames house going into withdrawl as proof that he's using vicodin to get high as if. withdrawl is not just. What Happens when you stop taking the medication you've been taking every day for years cold turkey. the s6 pain management with ibuprofen arc is my most behated arc in any medical drama possibly ever.

i think the characters psychoanalyzing away house's pain as psychosomatic is particularly insidious because ultimately i think the message the average person is going to take from it is that house's pain isn't reasonable BECAUSE it's partially psychosomatic. as if pain's origin matters? as if house isn't entitled to proper medical treatment just because his pain has a psychological component?

i know deep in my soul that at the end of the day House MD is a medical drama that is ultimately going to reflect attitudes prominent within the medical community and discuss social issues that the culture is actively discussing at the time, which is why house is constantly psychoanalyzed and the question of whether he is a "real addict" comes up over and over again. but i think the conclusions that the show comes to from there are overall very poorly thought out. surely a show that had this large of a budget could've and should've done better!

[craftylittlenerd]

Snippet Sunday

Tagged by @westernlarch for another snippet Sunday, or more like snippet Monday as I got to spend the day with the family yesterday 😁 Tagging @kalliesa @luciferbecons @partofmycharm @misseffect  @serendipitys-teapot @hauntedjellyfishtraveler to participate if you are so inclined.

So I have a few projects in the works and I debated on weather I post a snippet from one of my fanfiction or from one of my original works. After some debate I figured I post a snippet from my oldest fic that I’ve been taking a break on as I’ve hit a bit of a road block with it. 

Working Title: New Life “So, you’ve been staying here with the Commander?” Castis asks outright; he was never a man to beat around the bush.“ Until she wakes up, I don’t...we’re in this together... I...”  Castis nods understandingly, “Towards the end of your mother's illness, I never left her side.”  His voice grows soft as he remembers Laurus, how Corpalis Syndrome robbed her of being able to do the simplest of tasks. The subtle shake of her hands, the smallest stutter or slurring of words in her otherwise eloquent speech, the weakness she felt in her body. It was too late before either of them realized that these were all early symptoms and not just signs of old age. The disease took its time, taking Laurus away from him slowly over two and a half years, the preventive medication barely doing anything but prolonging the inevitable. Robbing them of their golden years together.  Garrus remembered how his dad hovered over his mother every chance he got while he and Sol had to coax their dad into simple tasks like eating or sleeping. Now the tables were turned, and it was his father’s turn to do the same to his son. Castis could see the weariness on his son’s face, how his clothes fit loosely around his frame.  “I cannot fault you for wanting to do the same, but I will fault you for the smell. When was the last time you showered? Garrus felt like he was thirteen all over again with that question and the look, spirits his father knew how to make him feel like a child.  His father grined, knowing he’d gotten Garrus right where he wanted him. “Wash up; your sister will be a bit longer with the doctor. Then we can go grab a bite to eat.”  Garrus looks around, unsure of what to do or even if he could use the shower in Shepard’s hospital room. He didn’t have a clean change of clothes either, not having returned to the Normandy in the last few days. Miranda and Dr. Chakwas were always able to shoo him away when Shepard was heading into another surgery. Even primarch Victus was able to persuade Garrus out of the Commander's hospital room while one of the other crew members visited.  Usually, he returned to the Normandy to shower, if not quickly buff his plates before changing his clothes. Sometimes he was able to get some sleep; other times, Garrus had enough of an appetite to eat a small meal.  When someone couldn’t visit, or no surgery was needed, Garrus stayed by Shepard’s side no matter how much the staff grumbled. He didn’t want her to wake up alone thinking she was resurrected again; it was her biggest fear. Something Shepard had confided in Garrus early on if not Cerberus, then the Alliance, or worse, some other fringe group would try it again.  It made her uncomfortable in hospitals — even the med bay on her own ship made her skin crawl. Yet she pushed that down anytime any of her crew was injured, or doctors at Huerta needed supplies they wouldn’t otherwise be able to get in Reaper-controlled territory. It's why Garrus never left because he knew Shepard would never leave any of them. Even when Ashley was in the hospital and the two women were at odds, Shepard still looked out for her friend.  “I can’t; there’s no one...I don’t have...” Garrus stammers as his father tossed him a small travel tote.   “I made a call, was able to pull a favor and get you an overnight bag, and your pilot friend Joker said he’d be by momentarily.”   One of these days, Garrus told himself he’d stop being surprised by his father. Today wasn’t one of those days, and tomorrow wasn’t looking any better. Garrus looked at the bag he had just caught mid-air like it was some puzzle to be solved. Upon opening it, he found a change of clothing, some toiletries, a sanding stone and buffing brush, and a few other needed items.  “I’ll watch over her until you’re done washing up. She won’t be alone, son I promise.” Garrus nodded and went into the small bathroom with a mundane shower hoping to get enough hot water to drown the ache in his muscles.   Once Castis heard the bathroom door latch, he pulled a necklace out of his pocket. The slim golden chain of turian design had a simple locket holding an image of his beloved. “Laurus, what do I do? You were always better at these things than me.” Sighing, Castis sat in the all too familiar uncomfortable hospital chair, watching over the woman who captured his son’s intrigue. Castis wasn’t ready to call it love yet. He’d only heard Garrus’s side of things. Made the connections during those long conversations when Garrus first arrived back home. He even approved of the human commander; she was more turian than the two of them combined. Castis knew the feelings were mutual, Victus had told him as much when they talked that morning. There were rumors of a taboo hand-holding incident with a high-ranking Reaper Advisor and the famous Commander on Menae.  Though here she was frail and in a hospital bed — Commander Jane Shepard of the Normandy, first human Spectre, hero of the Citadel, conqueror of the Collectors, Savior of the Galaxy. Her image on the extranet and vids didn’t do Shepard justice, painting her as a larger-than-life figure for humanity to live up to.  Something Castis was sure even she couldn’t live up to. Maybe it would have been better if she had died in battle — to die for the cause, be the legend she had been built up to be. An honor for any family. What more could the Alliance ask for? Yet what kind of world would she be waking up to? What impossible pedestal would she be put upon? All of that didn’t matter to Castis, what mattered was his son, as selfish as that was — but he knew Garrus. No matter where Shepard went, he knew Garrus would follow.  “I’m not good at these things. Garrus's mother was the delegate and worked in the diplomatic corps back on Palaven. She turned down a council position after the kids were born, wanted to give them some form of stability. Something Citadel life doesn’t always allow. I know my work didn’t allow that even after joining C-Sec. Duty always came first. It’s the turian way, but Laurus could always find the balance.” 

Castis sighed again as he looked down at the locket in his hand. “You two would have gotten along. From what I’ve been told, you're a strong, confident woman, eloquently spoken, and have a wicked sense of humor — all things my Laurus was.”A hitch in Casti's voice. “If not for you, I have a feeling I would have buried a child and my wife. It’s a debt I can never repay, yet I owe you my thanks, Commander.  You brought my son back to our family. He was able to say goodbye to his mother,  but if you could just do one more impossible thing and wake up.”  Castis leaned over Shepard’s bed and placed the locket next to her head, pinning it to the pillow so it wouldn’t get lost.“Laurus, watch over our son’s mate. Help the commander find her way back to the world of the living. I’ll watch over our boy — make sure he keeps both feet on the ground.”  Garrus had exited the bathroom, washed and dressed in the items his father had brought him. The clothing hung looser than Castis liked, his brave child wasting to nothing. Still, he didn’t blame Garrus; he knew too well what it was like to wait in this hell. How it aged your soul and left you a shell of who you once were. 

[stargazingellie]

lazarus is risen

chapter four: gifts from hestia

(masterlist) (part 1) (part 2) (part 3)

hello beautiful people <3 here's part 4!!

synopsis: After deciding to let Abby live, Ellie has returned to Jackson. But given everything she's lost, it no longer feels like home. She's sad, she's confused, and above all else, she is so, so very lonely. So when a group of strangers shows up and offers her a second chance, she might just take them up on that. Ellie must decide between staying in Jackson – and living with the ghosts of her past – or leaving in search of new meaning. Whatever she decides, her choice will have far-reaching consequences – not just for herself, or for Jackson, but for all of humanity.

Or,

Ellie saves the world, maybe?

(ellie williams x reader, post-tlou2, useless lesbians, slow burn, cross country road trip, lots of references to greek mythology, etc.)

Hestia: Greek goddess of hearth and home. Originates from the Greek word “Ἑστία,” meaning “hearth” or “fireside.”

[Ellie]

Ellie could feel the stares before they even got to the town center. As news does in small towns, word of the new arrivals and their conversation the night before seemed to have already made its way around the entire community. Ellie could hear murmured conversations as she passed by, and it was obvious she was the topic of interest. After all, it wasn’t very often that a group of strangers showed up and took someone with them when they left. Even less common, though, was the revelation of that person’s immunity, which inevitably became the talk of the town.

Ellie kept her head down as she walked. Never before had so many people known her secret, and despite having no control over her situation, she still felt guilty. She felt, of all people, she was the last person who deserved such a gift. And now, walking through the town center, everyone else seemed to feel that way too.

When they arrived at the dining hall, the newcomers were already waiting. When Dr. Reynolds noticed the packed bag on Ellie’s back, his face lit up. He clasped his hands together and exclaimed, “Ms. Williams! We’re thrilled you’ve decided to join us.” Next to him, Lucy smiled widely.

“Uh… yeah, no problem,” Ellie replied awkwardly. She couldn’t help but notice other townspeople taking a keen interest in their interaction. Part of her wished Dr. Reynolds would tone it down a few decibels, and she tried to swallow her embarrassment.

Lucy fished around for something in her bag. “Here, we got some food for you already,” she said as she handed Ellie some canned goods. “We didn’t know what you would decide, but he’s the eternal optimist.” She nodded her head towards her father, who grinned with excitement. “Says he had a good feeling about you.”

Ellie looked between the two and, against her better judgment, felt herself warming up to the pair. Hard as she tried, it was difficult to dislike them. “Thanks,” she said.

Putting her hand on Ellie’s shoulder, Maria said, “Well, let’s get you all on the road then, shall we? The gate is this way.”

After a short walk, the group arrived at the entrance and Maria gave the order to open the doors. The newcomers made their way through the opening, but Ellie lingered inside. Wanting to say something, she turned to Maria, but words escaped her. Maria, usually so eloquent, seemed at a loss too. Instead, the woman reached forward and embraced Ellie in a tight hug. 

Still holding on, Maria said, “Ellie, I know we’ve had our differences in the past, but I want you to know how much I care about you. You’ve been through more than anyone should ever have to go through, and I’ve seen how much it’s weighed on you these past few years. Whatever happens out there, I hope you find the peace you’re looking for.”

Ellie exhaled deeply. “Me, too,” was all she said. It was all she needed to say.

They were interrupted by someone nearby clearing their throat. Turning to see who it was, Ellie almost couldn’t believe who she saw. Even after so many years, she was still surprised by how similar he and Joel looked –  the same deep lines around his mouth and nose, the same tired eyes. Well, just eye, now.

“Hey, Tommy,” she said as she approached cautiously. She’d barely spoken to Tommy since returning, and she wasn’t sure what his intentions were. They both stood with their hands in their pockets.

“Hey, Ellie,” he replied. Even the way they said her name was the same. “I, uh… I heard you were leaving.” Ellie gave a tight-lipped smile and nodded in confirmation.

“Well, I just wanted to see you before you left. I, uh… I wanted to give you this.” He took something out of his pocket and handed it to her. It was small and flat, and displayed a hand drawn picture of a moth. She instantly recognized it as one of Joel’s guitar picks.

Tommy continued nervously, “It was one of his favorites. Kept the damn thing on him all the time. Thought you might like to have it.”

She could recall many a night when she had watched Joel on the porch with his guitar, that very same pick in hand. The memories brought a soft smile to her face.

“He’d be proud of you, y’know,” Tommy said quietly. “No doubt in my mind about it.”

Ellie felt her throat tighten. Not wanting to cry, all she responded with was, “Thanks, Tommy.”

He cleared his throat again. “Right, well, don’t wanna hold you up. Good luck out there.” He gave a final nod and walked back toward the center of town. Ellie stood watching him for a moment, then turned back towards the gate. She waved to a tearful Maria as the large doors closed behind her.

The short hike was largely uneventful. The early-autumn air meant they didn’t work up much of a sweat as they made their way through the forest. Lucy and Dr. Reynolds occasionally conversed about the wildlife, but the other three mostly remained silent. After about an hour, they stumbled out onto a paved road and approached a large truck parked nearby. They loaded their belongings into the back of the military-grade vehicle and took their seats in the cab. In the backseat, Lucy sat in the middle, with Dr. Reynolds to her left and Ellie to her right. Ellie leaned her head on the window to watch the foliage pass by, trying to cement into memory the place she once called home.

They stopped briefly every few hours to stretch their legs, until the sun began to set and Jacobs suggested they make camp for the night. The two guards left to check their surroundings while Lucy and Dr. Reynolds began to unpack the truck. They all moved with such efficiency that Ellie could tell they’d completed this routine many times before.

As he retrieved items from the truck, Dr. Reynolds said to Ellie, “I’m going to start a fire and get some food going. Would you mind helping unpack the rest? Lucy can show you what to grab.”

Without waiting for a reply, he turned and walked away. Lucy stood in the bed of the truck and waved Ellie over. When Ellie joined her, Lucy handed her items to carry.

“It’s mostly just sleeping bags and blankets,” Lucy explained, jumping down from the truck with a roll of fabric under each arm. “We have tents, too, but we only put them up when it rains. Saves time.”

“Makes sense,” Ellie replied.

“Alvaro and Jacobs alternate taking watch during the night. We’ve offered to help, but they insist on doing it themselves.” Lucy gave an exaggerated eye roll and smiled playfully. “Helps them feel like real macho-men, I think. But whatever floats their boat, I guess. More sleep for me.”

They finished laying the sleeping bags around the fire as Alvaro and Jacobs returned from their patrol of the area.

“Looks quiet,” Alvaro confirmed.

“That’s what I like to hear!” said Dr. Reynolds as he handed the men bowls of hot food. He then handed one to Ellie, which she accepted gratefully, realizing she hadn’t eaten all day.

She watched the fire as she ate, listening quietly to the others’ conversations. She didn’t know any of the people they were talking about, and she was more interested in Lucy and Dr. Reynolds’ relationship anyway. Ellie had known them for less than twenty-four hours, but it didn’t even take a whole minute to see how much they cared for each other. Lucy feigned annoyance during his tangents and ramblings, but she looked at him with such admiration it was clear she loved him deeply. Their back-and-forth was so easy, so comfortable. Observing their dynamic made Ellie a bit jealous, but mostly it just made her sad. It felt like watching an alternate version of her life – one that could have been, but would never be.

She pulled her legs to her chest and rested her chin on her knees. She lost herself in thought as she gazed sadly into the fire, only vaguely aware of Dr. Reynolds asking Jacobs a question. She didn’t notice Lucy until the other girl sat down right beside her.

“You looked cold,” Lucy explained quietly as she wrapped a blanket around Ellie’s shoulders. “How are you feeling?”

“Warmer,” Ellie replied cautiously, surprised by the kind gesture.

Lucy laughed. “Well, that’s good. But I meant, like, how are you feeling… otherwise? You looked a little upset.”

Ellie scratched the back of her neck in embarrassment. “Oh, yeah, um, I’m okay. Just… missing someone, I guess.”

Lucy nodded solemnly. “That’s understandable. Did you get to say goodbye to them, at least?”

Ellie shook her head. “No, he, uh… he’s been gone a long time.”

“Oh. I’m really sorry, Ellie.”

Ellie smiled sadly. “Thanks.”

Lucy absentmindedly ran a thumb over the tattoo on her wrist. Those dots – they seemed so familiar, but Ellie still couldn’t place where she’d seen them before. Lucy gazed at the fire as she said softly, “I know what it’s like to miss someone, too.” Ellie watched as the flames reflected in Lucy’s deep brown eyes.

Lucy continued, “I had a brother. A twin, actually. His name was Erebus.” She smiled to herself. “The name’s kind of out-there, I know. But our mom was a Classics professor. She was really into the Greeks or something. I never got to meet her, but my dad’s told me all about her. He says when my brother and I were born, the only way to tell us apart was our hair. His was really dark and mine was, well, like this” – she gestured to her strawberry-blonde curls – “and my mom knew just what to call us. Erebus and Lucia, darkness and light. Twins, poetic duality, yada yada yada.”

“Wow, you sure she wasn’t secretly a Firefly?” Ellie joked. “They really took that whole ‘ When you’re lost in the darkness, look for the light’ thing and ran with it.”

Lucy made an exaggerated time-out motion and said facetiously, “Woah, woah, woah. I cannot believe you just talked about my dead mother like that.” Ellie laughed, glad to have broken the ice between them. It was hard enough leaving Jackson, the least she could do was try to make a friend. She found herself feeling immensely grateful that someone her own age had come looking for her.

“And anyway,” Lucy said as she poked Ellie’s shoulder. “It’s not just me. Your mom must have been a Firefly too.” Ellie’s confusion must have shown on her face, because Lucy quickly explained, “Y’know… Ellie, Elizabeth, Liz. They all come from lux , which is light in Latin.” Lucy nudged Ellie’s shoulder with her own to emphasize the point. “That means you’re part of the light too, Ellie.”

Lucy yawned deeply and stood up. “Alright, enough history for now. All this sitting has me exhausted. There are extra blankets, so just let me know if you get cold again.” She gave Ellie a warm smile and turned to walk back to her own spot. Before leaving, though, she turned back and said, “I know it probably doesn’t mean much, but we’re really glad you’re here.”

Ellie smiled back as she watched the other girl turn away. She tucked herself into her own sleeping bag and propped up her backpack as a makeshift pillow. She considered what Lucy had said about their names. Despite the unpleasant taste the Firefly motto left in her mouth, she still liked the possibility of helping make the world a little brighter. And out of anyone she had ever met, she felt like Dr. Reynolds’ team had the best chance at doing just that.

We’re really glad you’re here. As Ellie drifted off to sleep, she decided, definitively, that she was glad to be there, too.

[the-rebel-archivist]

Fanfic Writer Questions

Tagged by @kittlesandbugs, thank you so much!

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 24, but there are a lot of things that I've only posted on reddit or kept in a document, I've been trying to upload some old works recently though!

2. What's your total AO3 word count? 47,945

3. What fandoms do you write for? Dragon Age mainly, but also Fallen Hero, some Baldur's Gate 3 (not posted to AO3 yet but there is... a decent amount), a bit of Mass Effect and a bit of The Exile

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? Some of these are at the top simply by virtue of being older and/or with more popular pairings

Stay - Dragon Age Inquisition, Cullavellan, early work, Cullen's perspective on a late evening reviewing paperwork in the Inquisitor's quarters. He makes a scandalous suggestion: forging her signature

Eloquence - Dragon Age Inquisition, Cullavellan again, also Cullen's perspective, set earlier than the one above. It's very cute, early work but full of words unspoken and gentle teasing

Deliberations on the Inevitable - Dragon Age post-Origins, Morrigan/Amell, from Morrigan's perspective. A mouthful of a title. The Warden is convinced to leave to find a cure for the Calling after Kieran tells him his blood sings louder

Amell Family Letters - Dragon Age Inquisition-ish, letters between the Warden, Kieran, and Morrigan while he's out trying to find a cure and they're at Skyhold

Motherly Love - Dragon Age post-Inquisition, Cullavellan, early work, Lavellan has difficulty bonding with her daughter. The story itself I'm considering retconning but it was really personal to write

5. Do you respond to comments? I try to but I have a habit of bursting with joy when I read them and telling myself "I'll respond when I get to my desk" and then forgetting that I should

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Most of my fics usually end reasonably positively even if the path they take to get there can get rough. I think maybe I am cursed, maybe I am gifted might be the angstiest overall, the PTSD of a war criminal Exile commander still towing the party line before exile

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? I don't know if I have any that aren't at least a little bittersweet, but of them A Father's Legacy is probably the happiest. Colonist Shepard has a long-needed talk with his parents and has a chance to try to learn from their mistakes with his daughter

8. Do you get hate on fics? Not that I've seen

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Only for fun in private with friends. There's some truly silly smut on my drive that will never see the light of day publicly

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written? Also only in private with friends, but only once. A satirical TWC crossover into FHR

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? No I don't think so

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Nope

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Not really, I've started a few collaborations but they didn't get very far

14. What's your all time favorite ship? Anything with Morrigan. It's always great, there's always a little edge to it even in extremely loving fics (as there should be!)

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Raynda and Tamaris's Wycome Adventure, a pre-Inquisition short novella-length fic. It's mostly there, kind of. Needs refining and editing and at this point probably a rewrite

16. What are your writing strengths? Period novel-like prose, describing impressions, established npc voices, and I'm really good at writing child POVs

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Plotting a longer work, or rather coming up with a compelling problem that will build tension toward a satisfying climax. It's why I trend towards short in-between ficlets instead

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? If I know the language maybe, it just has to have a purpose beyond obfuscation and I'd rather not use google translate

19. First fandom you wrote for? Dragon Age

20. Favorite fic you've written? I'm torn between Deliberations on the Inevitable and The Queen but I think it may be The Queen. The courtly love and the metaphors are things I'm still proud of. It also comes as no surprise but both fics feature strong women, Morrigan and Anora.

I'm not sure who hasn't been tagged already so I'll tag @ohmypawsandwhiskers @wolfs-dawn and @plisuu but if you see this consider yourself invited to fill it out

[the-one-who-lambs]

You said in a post that you were ok with asking about wrighting stuff so here I go-

How would someone go about improving their wrighting? Are there any exorcises to do that will help get better? People have told me that my wrighting is good but rarely tell me what I should do to improve on things im not good at and make the things I am good at even better

As for improvement, there are two main factors: practice and feedback.

For practice:

Make it a habit. Obviously, writing every single day is unrealistic. But it should be something you can get into a routine of doing if you enjoy writing! Some writers work on/update their projects sporadically, some churn out 50k words in a month, some focus on one project or smaller projects-- there's no way for me to tell you what works best for you personally, so developing a routine is a good way to teach you what does. The more often you write, the quicker you'll likely improve.

That said, if you're writing and find yourself stuck on a scene, don't be afraid to step away from it. If you have an idea for a scene that comes after what you're working on, there's no shame in giving yourself a little annotation or placeholder, and then just writing a scene that'll come later. Often, the transition comes as you work on the next scene!

I have favorite writing exercises I like to do when my writing feels stale. To me, it's the same as stretching your body to make sure you keep your body active and engaged, or warming up before going on a run; I do writing exercises that I never intend to necessarily "put" anywhere in my longer WIPs (or sometimes they turn into oneshots!). A few exercises I love:

Write your idea in a different genre, with a different point of view, or different tense than you're used to writing in. The drawback: sometimes it's hard to switch back. I typically write in past tense, but did an exercise in writing present tense a few months ago. When I went back to working on my WIP, I found myself switching and making constant tense changes by accident that I had to edit out later.

The classic "drabble." Take one idea and break it down as abstractly as you can. Then, write a story that is 100 words exactly. This is a fun one to test how clearly you can get your idea across concisely and eloquently.

My personal favorite is a sentence structure exercise. If your syntax sounds flat, grab a book and flip to a random page, and pick a random paragraph. Then, break up the sentences you read into chunks/clauses, and try to rewrite the sentence/paragraph you originally wrote in this new sentence structure. Obviously, don't copy phrases from the source material you're looking at to practice with, but trying to rewrite your style in a new voice often lets you branch out into writing in ways you'd never thought to try before! I'll give you an example of this exercise, actually, and walk through the steps as I'm working through it myself:

If you're writing a first draft, ignore this step, but sometimes I like to do this while editing. Pick a sentence (or a few) that you're not happy with. Here's the original sentence I wrote: “So why do we start the day with basic berry bowls?” The Lamb asked Narinder when they reached the cooking pot.

Pick a book and pick a sentence or two. "It's what Mom wants," his sister said again, and all three of them knew the depth and complexity of their mother's wishes, their mother's whimsy. (Source: Half Spent by Alice McDermott)

Break the sentence into chunks. This is a compound-complex sentence with an independent clause, a conjunction followed by another independent clause, then a dependent clause. "It's what Mom wants" is a declarative sentence spoken in dialogue. his sister said again is an action phrase. and all three of them knew the depth and complexity of their mother's wishes begins with a conjuction and goes on to describe internal reactions to the action phrase. their mother's whimsy is a dependent clause that makes use of repetition to emphasize the traits of a particular character. You don't have to get this specific when breaking down syntax, and you certainly don't have to write all this out, I'm explaining all the technical stuff for the sake of the example! So, we have: "Declarative dialogue" (subject) (verb phrase) (conjunction) (other subject) (verb) (objects) (repetition of object).

Now let's restructure the sentence I originally wrote, imitating the syntax from the example! "We start the day with basic berry bowls," the Lamb told Narinder, as if he didn't know what he had eaten over the past three years for every breakfast, every single morning.

The revised sentence doesn't have much narrative similarity with the sentence I'd used as a reference, but it reads with roughly the same syntax. If I fall into a habit of writing dialogue that reads all the same way, like this-- "Dialogue dialogue dialogue." Character said as they did some sort of action. -- then I can practice this exercise and get my flow back.

...Anyway. One last tip for practicing: please take regular breaks. It's tempting to get into the Writing Zone and go at it for five hours straight, only to realize afterwards that you're severely dehydrated and have skipped two meals and you're about to piss your pants like a racehorse if you take a step with a centimeter too long of a stride. This is especially important if you're writing on a computer; give your eyes a screen break! PLEASE.

And read!!! Not just other fanfics, but published stories as well!

For feedback:

Yeah, it's intimidating, but ask people for constructive criticism. Get a writing buddy who will cheer you on and be their hype buddy as well. (This may or may not be why like 75% of my friends I met through the cult of the lamb fandom are also fic writers: I see someone write with me and we are kids playing with barbies and I am inviting everyone to play our fun little game of pretend.) Work through edits with them and forgive yourself for not being perfect. Remember that you are doing this for your own enjoyment and it should not stress you out too much. It is okay to be frustrated with your own work, though, as it can be grounds for improvement!

Get a beta reader if you'd like to help you catch any errors. I know people who find them tremendously helpful, and I also know people who prefer not to have one because they feel it adds unnecessary pressure to a hobby that is for their enjoyment. It's up to you! I don't have an official beta reader but, uh, @surfdudeboy might as well be at this point.

If you find yourself having to explain your work (especially before you show it), that's probably a sign that you need to communicate more clearly in your work.

Take critique gracefully and respectfully when you receive it (as long as whomever is giving you genuine constructive criticism isn't being outright unkind). Thank them for their time but don't treat all reviews as if they have equal merit.

Also, learning how to critique and give feedback to other people's writing will make you a stronger writer as well, because you're practicing how to recognize what works and what doesn't work, and how to identify why a piece of writing has a particular effect.

Think of writers you admire or writers whose style inspires you. Think about what you appreciate about their works, and see if you can try it out. It's also worth a shot to go to them and ask for writing tips.

Look! You're already doing this step well, because you reached out for advice! Hooray!

Overall:

It's okay to make mistakes. You are allowed to love your work and be proud of it, as the writer you are now, while also seeking to improve.

Don't feel pressured to remove the parts of your writing that make it yours.

If you're working on a long-form project, indulge in some shorter projects along the way as well. Writing isn't an ultramarathon, it's a few miles max a day. While in the depths of the "enemies" stage of The Risen Lamb and the Fallen God, I suddenly had a massive craving to write the fluffiest cuddliest bullshit and later on some unabashed poetic yearning ( <- thanks to Sara for the hammer of a brainworm that made me write that poem). Keep your eye on the prize for the longer project, but don't burn yourself out trying to stick to one thing and one thing only!

Finally, leave yourself little notes while you write about your own symbolism, about your characters, and about your writing process. Watch your growth, so that when you doubt you've come as far as you have, you know where to go to prove your mean thoughts wrong.

Happy writing, and best wishes! You've GOT THIS <3 !!!!

[madelynhimegami]

Reposting this, because it would seem a post won’t show up in search if it has a certain word in it. ANYWAY, this is a followup to something I posted a couple weeks ago, about Sig and the Crimson Soul merging peacefully. There’s some details beneath the cut, and if you want to know of the basis of the story you can read about it here!

After Sig reached an agreement with the demon that once dwelled inside the Tome of Sealing, the Cyan and Crimson Souls have merged together and now occupy the same body. Initially, they exist as a plural individual with two distinct personalities: Sig, the original owner of the body; and what remains of the being once known as the Aethereal. Over time, the two will blend together into a true whole that is both Sig and the Aethereal, with neither one replacing the other.

Collectively, they still go by the name "Sig," but the latter personality has agreeed to also answer to the alias "Aya" while still distinct, for clarity's sake.

Sig himself hasn't changed much. He still loves bugs, still spaces out when unstimulated, and still isn’t phased by much (as long as nobody's in danger). He's very chill, and is almost impossible to rile up. He speaks softly and plainly, and appears completely stoic (if not apathetic) to the unfamiliar. Those that knew him beforehand have noted that he's in fact more expressive than he used to be, nor is he as sleep-prone. Sig doesn't care much for tidiness, but can really only be called a slob when compared to Aya.

Aya is significantly more expressive than Sig, with embellished speech and dramatic gesures. She is a biliophile to the extreme and will devour any book that isn't hot garbage (and if you were the one to recommend it, she will let you know). She can really only be called easily-agitated or high-strung when compared to Sig, in that she can become irate with sufficient provocation, and has more hot-button issues than Sig does. Among said hot-button issues is clenliness: she is an unparalleled neat freak.

Despite differences in speech, both are bluntly honest and direct. They can be difficult to engage in conversation or other social activity (aside from Puyo battling), especially with those they are unfamiliar with. Only Amitie seems to best know how to engage with either of them at any given time (though Klug has a distant second-best track record with Aya).

When both are awake, they are capable of conversing with each other unaided, but it's not always easy or successful, especially with a lot of distractions. They have a notebook that they keep with them to write down anything especially important to share with the other (especially if said other is asleep at the moment), or if the alternative is too troublesome.

The first physical change that was outwardly apparent was the change in the color of their eyes, shifting from a red left eye and blue right, to two purple eyes-- a perfect balance between human and demon. Next to change was their right arm growing and developing claws, becoming a perfect match to their left. Before long, it became clear that their hair was no longer growing in its normal sky blue, but instead a royal violet.

As time passed and the two began to blend together, more changes set in. Their body became both more demonic and more androgynous. Most worrying to Amitie was their eyes once more shifting to all-red-- but Sig was certain that it was merely a sign of the blend's progress, that once fully red it would be a sign of completion, and assured Amitie that they weren't going anywhere. By a year's passing, it was actually painful to try to distinguish what was "Sig" and what was "Aya," so they preferred to not attempt to call any of it into question.

Just as Aya had promised, there had been no attempt to displace Sig in all his Sig-ish-ness. They became more assertive and eloquent, and more inclined to read than to stare off into space, but the kindness and care (and love for bugs) that the rest of the magic school's student body were familiar with was just as present as they had always been. As was their penchant to not pay attention to what was happening around them.

Sig was still and would continue to be Sig, loved and appreciated just as they are.  

[my-chemical-wheaties]

Albums That I Listened to in January 2024

Last month, I made the first of what I plan to be a series of twelve posts where I share what albums I listened to in the month before then and what I thought about them.

Here are the twelve albums that I listened to this month:

Titanic Rising - Weyes Blood (2019)

When We Were That What Wept for the Sea - Colin Stetson (2023)

3D Country - Geese (2023)

Middle Cyclone - Neko Case (2009)

In Colour - Jamie xx (2015)

Atlanta Millionaires Club - Faye Webster (2019)

Color Me Country - Linda Martell (1970)

Madison - Sloppy Jane (2021)

Marquee Moon - Television (1977)

Heaven or Las Vegas - Cocteau Twins (1990)

Fantasies - Metric (2009)

In My Own Time - Karen Dalton (1971)

Here's how I'd rank these albums:

Madison - I decided to give this album a listen purely out of curiosity because of how fascinated I was by the story behind how it got made. For those of you who are unaware, songwriter Haley Dahl and her band Sloppy Jane recorded this album in the Lost World Caverns in West Virginia over the course of two weeks, and for an album that was recorded in a literal cave, it's excellent. The orchestral, art pop compositions are absolutely beautiful, and Haley is a great lyricist whose ability to convey certain emotions and experiences with such visceral imagery and usage of symbolism throughout multiple tracks is something I admire and respect. Going into this album knowing that it was recorded in a cave adds to the atmosphere of the album, too. While listening, I couldn't help but imagine Haley and company playing these songs in a dark cavern in the middle of the night. I could go on about this album and how much I love it for pages, but I these posts are already kind of long as it stands, and I don't want it to be any longer. Definitely give it a listen, especially if you're as big of a Kate Bush fan as I am, because this has her influence all over it. 10/10

2. Middle Cyclone - Ever since I discovered her music last year before I started this personal challenge, Neko Case has quickly become one of my favorite artists and this album only further demonstrates to me why I've come to love her work so much. The way she blends together indie rock and country scratches an itch for me; and much like in her album preceding this one, Fox Confessor Brings the Flood, Middle Cyclone demonstrates Neko's incredible lyricism, particularly her ability to convey emotional rawness and human vulnerability in such a straightforward, yet eloquently profound way. Given that this is also what I would consider Neko Case's most accessible album, I would highly recommend anyone who hasn't already listened to her work to check this album out - especially if you're a fan of artists like Julien Baker, Lucy Dacus, or Adrienne Lenker who I think all owe a part of their sound and success to her. 8/10

3. In My Own Time - Karen Dalton is, in my opinion, one of the most underrated artists of the 60s and 70s and deserves more recognition than what she gets. Only the second album she ever released in her lifetime, there's something especially pleasant about her different covers of these songs (Yes, this is a covers album - Karen didn't really write or record original material). It makes me feel like I am sitting in a living room in a house on the countryside watching the snow fall in the winter or the leave rustling in the breeze in the summer. Not to mention that Karen has a beautiful alto voice. I actually like some of these covers better than their original versions. If you're looking for late sixties/early seventies folk music to listen to, I would recommend checking this album out. 9/10

4. Fantasies - Metric is a band that has been on my radar for a while now, but for some reason, I haven't gone out of my way to listen to any of their albums in full until now. All of the tracks go pretty hard, and I really like Emily Haines' voice. My favorite band Paramore cited Metric as an influence for their most recent album This Is Why, and I can definitely see where they were inspired. If any of you like Paramore or Yeah Yeah Yeahs, I would definitely give this album a listen. 7/10

5. Titanic Rising - This album sounds like walking through an antique store that is faintly playing old obscure 80s music on its loudspeakers as you gaze over the various items decorating each "room" in the store, the scent of vintage goods and old wood wafting through the air. Weyes Blood's voice reminds me of a cross between Eurhythmics' Annie Lennox and Enya, and the instrumentation and production on this album are stunningly beautiful. I was worried going into this album that I wouldn't be able to get into it because the tracks are all on the slower side in terms of tempo, but I actually found myself liking this one a lot. 9/10

6. Color Me Country - Linda Martell is an important figure in country music history who, despite her significance and the barriers she helped break down for black artists in the genre, has been oft forgotten. The first black artist in history to perform at the Grand Ole Opry, she only ever released one studio album - Color Me Country, in 1970. The album consists of pretty standard country music that was common at the time, with lyrical subject matter typical of the genre - but just because an album isn't sonically pushing the envelope, doesn't mean that it can't be good. I don't know what it was, but something lit up in me listening to this album and I really enjoyed what I heard. It makes me wonder what else she would have done had she continued her music career and released more material. Either way, this is a wonderful album from an incredible woman who deserves a lot more attention to her work. 7/10

7. 3D Country - This album sounds like a fusion between The Rolling Stones and Queen and I'm kind of living for it. It's genuinely good, fun, classic-styled rock music that doesn't take itself too seriously and has some really unique qualities to it. St. Elmo has been stuck in my head ever since I first heard it, and little embellishments like the harp on the title track really give this album its own personality. If you're somebody who primarily listens to older music who wants to try something newer or are just looking for more rock bands to get into, I recommend giving this album a try. 8/10

8. Atlanta Millionaires Club - Did you know that Faye Webster and I are the same age? I'm so used to artists either being older or younger than me that seeing someone around my age making music is both surprising and refreshing to me at the same time. This might be part of the reason why I clicked with this album a bit better than some of the other ones that I listened to this last month - Faye and I are in kind of the same place in life and due to us being the same age, and we probably share a similar perspective and experiences. It also helps that Faye is an adroit lyricist, and the chill indie rock instrumentation suits her voice well. The only issue that I have with this album is that the track Flowers near the end sounds jarring given how different it is from the rest of the album. 8/10

9. When We Were That What Wept for the Sea - This album gaslit me into thinking I have synesthesia. No really, I'm serious - I listened to this album while driving at night and I remember during the beginning of either Infliction or Passage I started smelling freshly brewed coffee. I didn't have any coffee in the car with me and I was not in an area where there would be any coffee brewing nearby. It was wild. And then after that it started smelling like the produce section of a grocery store in the beginning of the second half of the album. Anyways, this experimental ambient album by saxophonist Colin Stetson was really interesting to listen to and there are a lot of cool details scattered throughout each song. It wasn't what I was expecting at all, but it was a pleasant surprise. It would probably pair well with the flute album Andre 3000 put out last year. 8/10

10. Marquee Moon - This is a classic album that I see getting a ton of praise, so I figured I would give it a listen. It's a pretty good album, although the tracks sound a little bit samey at times. The two songs that stand out to me are Venus and the title track. 7/10

11. In Colour - The only solo album (As of right now) from The xx member Jamie xx makes for a fairly pleasant listening experience. Jamie seems to be veering slightly away from the indie rock elements of The xx's work and more into electronic and pop, incorporating some hip-hop influences along the way. The featured appearances all fit in nicely, and the album overall sounds like the chill cousin of Daft Punk's Homework. 8/10

12. Heaven or Las Vegas - Please don't take me ranking this album last as some indication that I don't like it. I actually enjoyed it - albeit think that it's overrated. The number of people that I have seen praising this album and talking about how great it is made me think that it was going to be some amazing, mind-altering experience to listen to, but it was really a series of (Super short) shoegaze-y pop tracks that are just good. I don't really get why people hype up Cocteau Twins so much. You would think that they invented sliced bread with the way some people talk about them. 7/10

So far, I've really been enjoying most of the albums that I listen to. I have a few albums in mind that I plan to listen to in full in February, but again, if anyone wants to recommend me anything, you are always welcome to leave a comment. :)

[starberry-cupcake]

Serpentin Vert (aka The Dragon Husband) won my fairy tale poll, so here's more about him

Serpentin Vert is both a character and the title of a fairy tale by Madame d'Aulnoy, published for the first time in 1698.

Even though the name is closer to "serpent" and some illustrators have depicted him as such, d'Aulnoy's description of him is closer to a dragon than a snake, and his size is big enough to have allowed him to physically carry his bride to safety.

Here is an English translation of the description by James Robinson Planché:

He has green wings, a body of a thousand colours, ivory claws, fiery eyes, and on his head is a bristling mane of long hair.

This is him rescuing his soon-to-be bride in an illustration from the Garnier edition, circa 1850 (my favorite one of him):

Serpentin Vert (translated by Planché as Green Serpent and in Spanish by Editorial Siruela as Serpentino Verde) is a fairy tale in the category know as "The Animal as Bridegroom" (Aarne-Thompson-Uther Index's ATU 425).

Some of these, and this one is no exception, work with Cupid and Psyche as a foundation (the most popular being Beauty and the Beast), but d'Aulnoy's style doesn't just use it as reference, she includes it in the story, as a tale the lead character reads and, much like Psyche or even Orpheus, still does what she shouldn't.

The lead of the story is Laideronnette, a princess cursed by a fairy to become the ugliest person alive, while her twin sister doesn't get said curse. She exiles herself after her family treats her poorly and meets Serpentin, who falls in love with her but she rejects him, since she's afraid of him. When he talks to her without her seeing him, she distrusts him, because she doesn't believe a king would fall in love with her, but starts having feelings for the person she spends so much time talking to. Their marriage is the halfway point of the story, because it's through Laideronnette breaking her promise (much like Psyche) that she will have to face many challenges to save the dragon she has fallen in love with. Of course, like most Animal Bridegroom stories, Serpentin is actually a cursed man.

Like most fairy tales written by the salonnières, this is a very long story, that takes twists and turns, has the characters move through different settings and gets in there a couple of songs and poems. If you're more used to the Perrault-like or even Grimm-like fairy tales, you may not be too familiar with the way in which salonnières told fairy tales, but these stories, born for the entertainment from women to other women in salons, are not always devoid of lessons but are more focused on the storytelling aspect and take a lot more pages to tell the story, describe surroundings and have the characters express their turmoil to the reader (or listener, originally).

Serpentin is always gentle and caring, although able to drop an "I told you so" when he feels it's warranted. Differently from Villeneuve's Beast (or Beaumont's even), he's more eloquent throughout the story and more active as well. There is a mutual saving between him and Laideronnette and her tasks to save Serpentin come after realizing she's in love with him, which makes their relationship dynamic a longer element to develop.

The fact that they're both cursed by the same fairy also generates an interesting dynamic in which both are at the mercy of a same enemy and can bond through the isolation caused by their self-imposed exiles. Of course, this being a classic fairy tale, she doesn't remain "ugly" and he doesn't remain a dragon.

The story isn't devoid of problematic stereotypes, these were French women in the 1600s, but most of the elements included trace back to the typical inspirations for d'Aulnoy: Greek mythology, opera and the folklore shared by midwives and nurses that accompanied women through motherhood. I talked a bit more about d'Aulnoy on this post, she was wild.

Now, to some more illustrations of the man of the hour:

This one is from Harriet Mead Olcott (1919), who went more snake-like but kept the wings.

Another one from the Garnier edition, it didn't stay very consistent on the size of him.

This is a part of the engraving made by Jean-Louis Delignon over this original by Clemént-Pierre Marillier (1785):

Maria Pascual played a bit more with Laideronnette's features, but it's more evident when she's beside her sister.

And a very recent depiction came from Natalie Frank in 2017 for Jack Zipes's compilation of d'Aulnoy stories titled The Island of Happiness, I think this is after Laideronnette was already transformed and changed her name into Discrète.

Serpentin Vert is actually the first of the fairy tales I included in my virtual workshop that starts next month (in Spanish). I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that it won the poll because of a) the nature of this site and b) the fact that d'Aulnoy would vibe with the discourse on here if she was around. You can find the original fairy tale in French here, the Planché English translation here and the Lawrence and Bullen translation here. For the Spanish version I had to translate it myself for the workshop, but there is a good translation in Siruela's edition of El cuarto de las hadas.

[medieval-modern-cme]

repatriation, and the problem with the British Museum.

If you are part of the museums world, you have likely heard the word “repatriation.” Repatriation is the return of something (or someone) to its original country, and has become a buzzword in recent years as more and more museums are being rightfully called out for the pieces in their collections that do not rightfully belong to them.

Museums have historically partaken in the cycles of colonization that have led to cultural and traditional erasure among countless groups, and have directly benefited as a result, as they have taken artifacts, artwork, and even human remains as their own to display.

Not all museums have been complicit in the harboring of stolen items, and it is unfair to group all museums as one- some, like the Smithsonian’s National Museum of the American Indian, have taken steps towards repatriation and acknowledged the issue. They explain that curators work closely with Indigenous tribes and will return items, including human remains, upon request.

However, some museums (cough cough, the British Museum) have been…extremely complicit in the harboring of stolen items, despite widespread attention and a very vocal audience that has been addressing the issue for some time. The British Museum is one of the world’s most famous museums, housing artifacts like the Rosetta Stone, the Benin Bronzes, and the Elgin Marbles. What all of these have in common is that they were stolen, and have been denied requests for repatriation. For years now, the museum has hidden behind the “British Museum Act of 1963, a national statute which prohibits the institution from returning works” as a reason why, hey, we can’t do anything about it!

I was lucky enough one year ago to partake in a 12-day study abroad trip to the United Kingdom, and our journey started in London. On day three, my group boarded the tube and traveled to Holborn to see the British Museum. I had never before traveled further than a state away, and was so excited with all of the new experiences surrounding me, that I had no idea of the legacy haunting the British Museum. I will not lie– I thoroughly enjoyed the museum. It wasn’t until returning home that I learned more about the museum’s history and no longer felt such joy when looking at the photos I took, one of which was a close-up of the Rosetta Stone. The actual Rosetta Stone, inches away from me, behind glass. 

When I got home, one of the first things I saw online was a video from creator Blair Imani, who makes some amazing short-form content to educate about important issues. She posted a TikTok about the museum and it’s dark history of colonization and stealing of cultural items, which led me to look more into repatriation as a whole. The British Museum is not the only museum to be at fault for the refusal to return stolen artifacts to their rightful homes, but it is currently the most notable for the items it houses.

Below, I want to highlight some important articles, videos, and general resources about repatriation that discuss the issue in a way much more eloquent than I could, because this issue is truly important. 

The UK Has a 60-Year Old Law Prohibiting Repatriation of Art. Is That About to Change? (The Observer)

The British Museum is full of stolen artifacts (Vox)

The British Museum’s heartless repatriation policy exposed

And, for fun, here are some photos I took at the museum. Despite the history of the museum, it truly was an experience I am thankful for, and I do look back on these photos fondly!

[jdaviswords]

Intimidation to Jump

Inspired by Ebony Stewart

I am a steward

looking after these words

a moment of silence

comes fewer

than a cure

I said

I don’t think I have

the button flow

but then again

the originals matter

until they don’t

no mo’

That’s not to cast shade

and my fellow artists

it’s just suggesting I’m different

but similar in mindset

vulnerable and unguarded

Way back when

gets a little longer

the more I say it

but I remember the first time

I came to face it

the demons of whispering

in between my ears

consistently absurd

I learned to tame it

because if I didn’t

they would take it

And by it

I mean me

so I turned to these pages

ha

it’s kinda punny

turning pages

Different chapters

different ages

I was confined by my mind

until I broke it from

it’s cages

and that’s multiple cages

kinda like multiplication

there’s a difference between

not being good with math

and just hating it

I am radiant

I find that I am learning patience

but inside I am impulsive

like a robber

at a bus station

running away

from the police

hoping to find

a safe destination

I see slam poets

on the web posting their speech

and I am inspired

by each

and every one of them

I

may not be able

to recite so eloquently

but that’s not the point

presently

There’s never a better time

than the one right now

beginning the destiny

confidently humble

perhaps needing to be

a bit cocky

that though I do not fit

the structure and style

I am unique

But even in my uniqueness

it means nothing

unless it reaches

someone

and teaches them

something

or breaches

a curiosity

I hope I can be inspiring

to those who are tiring

from the beat down

of this crazy society

Ever chasing we are

for personal propriety

I dare not lie to y’all

If I dare not lie to me

I repeat the lines

that I’ve written before

just as a reminder to me

because I must check myself

before I lose sight of me

Self awareness

the individual key

to unlocking the door

and opening opportunity

what once was

can return to be

if you agree

to seek out the monstrosity

A back against the wall

a cut on the cheek

the age of three

admittedly

I lose myself when I’m writing

I’m talking to myself

as I’m writing

I am writing and the words

they are now my breath

I am writing

into the digital pad

I can’t stop

until sign says so

like Rain Man

I may not be

exactly

a rambler

of button poetry

or maybe I am

or maybe it doesn’t matter

or maybe it does

that was the anxiety

speaking

as I begin imagining

the first time I’d recite

this piece

and now I am sweating

slightly chuckling

brain numbing

I’m fumbling now

being a human is ugly

and funny

both in the ha ha sense

and in irony

I am ironing

out the wrinkles

constantly looking to evolve

becoming smooth like silk

and like a rose in spring growing

it’s late

and now I am foaming

at the mouth

I spout

and shout

and let it all out

once again showcasing

the commitment to this therapy

of just…

…writing everything down

[sllverchariot]

Get to You (Polnareff x Reader) Chapter Three

You're a bright eyed and ambitious Anthropology student, just setting off for the international vacation of your dreams. Just days into your trip, however, you encounter a devious and charming man who would set into motion a string of events that would change your life forever, for better or for worse ♡ word count - 2.2k ♡ warnings - some brief mentions of previous trauma/emotional abuse/manipulation/cheating ♡ notes - this is crossposted on ao3 under the same username as here. there are currently eight chapters written and posted over there so i'll be working on posting them here as well. this fic follows the events of stardust crusaders with some changes obviously. enjoy!!!

Although the journey to your next destination was certainly longer than you originally anticipated, with a few stops in between for errands, the drive truly felt like forever as one of your new companions chattered incessantly in your ear. 

It was never ending flirting, rambling, you started to go stir crazy trapped in the leather seat of the taxi. 

You kept your cool, smiling and nodding along, even throwing in the occasional laugh to appease your new “friend”, although you grew more irritated with every passing minute. The occasional brushing of your arm, grabbing of your hand, the suggestive looks. 

You couldn’t say you were surprised by this development, but that didn’t make it any easier to deal with. Your hopeless romantic heart beating faster with every eloquent pick-up line, only for it to be broken when your cynical brain caught up. 

You were in a silent battle between head and heart, but eventually your head would win the war as the relentless poking and prodding from the Frenchman pushed you to your limit. 

As you were getting ready to say something, to tell him to lay off a little bit, the taxi slowed to a stop, outside a gorgeous, ornate hotel. You stared for a moment, before the gentlemen in the backseat urged you out of the vehicle. 

You climbed out, gathering your few belongings, and stood on the pavement, awaiting the rest of your group.

You all filed inside, leaving Mr. Joestar to pay the taxi driver. When you arrived inside the building, you were a little awestruck by the gorgeous architecture, imagining what it would be like if you’d been able to stay at a place like this on your solo trip. As you drifted into your daydream, a familiar figure appeared beside you.

”Ah, what a gorgeous establishment we’re staying it. Perfectly suited to the needs of someone such as myself. Wouldn’t you agree, madame?” He leaned in, dropping his voice only slightly quieter than normal, “Wouldn’t you like to spend a night together here with moi? I’m sure the beds are plenty big enough for two.” He purred, and you fought back a roll of the eyes. 

“I actually think I’d prefer my own room, if possible.” You muttered. When Mr. Joestar was finished taking care of things with the taxi driver, he strolled inside and up to the hotel clerk. 

The rest of your group sat a few feet away in the lounge, and you elected to join them, hoping for a reprieve from the excessive flirting of the Frenchman. You sat in a small cushioned chair, peeping in on the chatter between the others. You watched from a distance as the conversation between Mr. Joestar and the receptionist grew more heated. 

While you awkwardly fiddled with the hem of your dress, not wanting to invite yourself to someone else’s conversation, you wondered where Polnareff may have ended up, noticing things had grown quieter over the last few minutes. As you did a cursory glance around the room, you spotted him cozied up on a loveseat in the lobby with a beautiful young woman.

He seemed to be pulling out all the stops, while she giggled in response. You rolled your eyes, unable to hold it back this time, and scoffed lightly. Although it irritated you, you were grateful to know with certainty that he had a one track mind, just like every other man, and was only on the hunt for one thing. 

You took a deep breath, and turned your gaze elsewhere, just as Mr. Joestar walked up. He held only three room keys in his hands, and you sighed. You knew what this meant, and knew it would be an awkward night regardless of who you ended up rooming with. 

“There weren’t enough single rooms left for tonight, so we’re gonna have to double up.” He explained, and held back a sigh. 

“Jotaro and I can share a room.” Chimed Kakyoin. “It makes sense, since we’re both students.” 

“Avdol and I will share since we have some things to discuss about the next leg of our journey.” Stated Mr. Joestar, and your heart dropped into your stomach. You took a deep breath, and the old man seemed to notice your dejected expression. “Don’t worry (Y/N), Polnareff is all bark and no bite. If he gives you any trouble, Avdol and I will just be a floor below.” You forced a smile and a nod, not wanting to come off as ungrateful. 

After a bit of back and forth, the six of you piled into the elevator, for a painfully awkward ride. Floor by floor, the rest of your group disembarked, leaving just you and Polnareff alone in the elevator. 

“Ah, mademoiselle, I so look forward to spending this night together. I can only hope that every night on this journey is spent together as well.” He shifted closer to you. “You know, if you have a bad dream, you can always climb into my bed. I won’t hold it against you.” You stayed quiet. Before he could continue, the elevator bell dinged and the doors slid open. You nearly ran into the hallway, savoring the few brief moments where you could put some distance between the two of you.

You inspected the key in your hand, which read ‘707’. You turned a corner and spotted the corresponding room. You fiddled with the lock for a moment, before the door swung open to reveal what could only be described as your worst nightmare. 

The room was gorgeous, intentionally decorated to match the ornate architecture of the hotel. Intricate carpets, glowing white bedsheets, a desk in the corner, which atop sat complimentary water, coffee, and tea. By all accounts, it was a lovely room, far out of your realm of possibility in any other circumstances. 

However, there was one glaring issue. 

Alone in the middle of the room, sat the tragedy. 

One, singular, stand-alone, all-by-itself, bed. 

There was only one bed.

You swiftly pulled the door shut, the white haired man trailing behind you and catching up just as the door slammed. Your hand lingered on the doorknob, panicked beyond belief at the sight on the other side of the door. 

“What’s the matter? Why aren’t you going in?” questioned the Frenchman. You stumbled over your words as you replied. 

“We…. We can’t stay here…” You let out a sigh and let your head fall against the door with a quiet thud, fully aware that you had no other options. 

“What do you mean we can’t stay here? What’s wrong with it?” Polnareff questioned further, and you pulled your head away from the door, feeling utterly defeated. You fumbled with the key for a moment before the door swung open once again, revealing the tragedy inside. Although you were staring dead-eyed ahead, you could feel Polnareff’s smirk boring into your soul.

He waltzed inside the room while you just watched, and plopped down on the lush mattress. You slowly crept in after him, and he seemed to notice the solemn expression on your face, as he was quick to pipe up. “It’s a king sized bed! Plenty of room for two. I’m happy to sleep on the edge, although I’m sure we’ll be close by the time we fall asleep.” 

You shook your head and sat on the edge of the bed next to him. You knew you were being dramatic, but you had such a long day with all of the ridiculous events that unfolded and you were already so tired, that you weren’t sure how much more of his antics you’d be able to tolerate. 

“Oh madame, don’t look so blue! The universe intended for things to work out this way! I’ll be able to protect you better if we’re cuddled up together anyways. If you have a nightmare, I’ll be right there beside you.” He reached out and cupped his hand in yours, causing you to stand up and pull away. 

“I’m going to the bathroom.” You said flatly, and made haste to your destination. You shut and locked the door behind you, and took a moment to breathe a sigh of relief. At least you would have a small window of reprieve from his ramblings. 

As you turned on the water to wash your face, an unfortunate realization hit you. In your impulsive decision to leave everything behind and accompany a group of random strangers on an international mission to kill a vampire, you had forgotten literally all of your things. They were still at your hotel, the one that you never checked out of. You shook your head, amazed at your lack of foresight, and tried to count your blessings that no one could take your things so long as you were still checked in. You would just have to worry about the bill later, and go out shopping for your essentials ASAP. 

By the time you finished in the bathroom, the room was almost fully cast in darkness, illuminated only by the soft glow of the TV Polnareff was watching. Despite spending a questionably long amount of time hiding in the bathroom, you eventually forced yourself to go out and brave the unfortunate sleeping arrangement that was waiting for you.

When Polnareff saw you emerge from the bathroom, he immediately sat up, patting the empty spot beside him. “Oh, I was waiting for you! I was getting so lonely out here by myself.” He leaned back slightly. “I kept the bed warm for you.” He smirked, and you could do nothing but shake your head. 

“Thanks.” You mumbled, and grabbed your shoes out of the bathroom to place them at the front door. You could feel his eyes follow you as you moved throughout the room.

”Aren’t you going to climb in with me? We’ve got a big day tomorrow, we should get comfortable now. I was missing you, even for such a short time apart.” You placed your shoes beside the entrance, and turned back to face him. 

“Do you think you could give it a rest?” You asked, trying to sound as polite as possible while still being firm.

”Well, I doubt we’ll be getting much rest to-“

You cut him off before he had a chance to finish. “I’m serious! You need to lay off! I don’t know what I’m doing to make you think I’m interested but please, god, tell me and I’ll stop. I haven’t responded to your advances in the slightest but still, you persist! I guess I have to give you credit for being consistent.” You laughed sarcastically and shook your head. “I tried to bite my tongue and be respectful, because you all were gracious enough to not kill me and let me come along with you but at this point I’ll take my chances with Dio on my own. At least try to think with your brain and not your dick.” You spat, arms crossed and heart racing, but almost immediately you began to feel guilty as you watched his expression change. 

He looked like a kicked puppy, and suddenly you felt like the most evil person in the world. 

“I… Apologize for my behavior…” He stood up from the bed and turned away. “I’ll sleep on the floor and you can have the bed.” He quietly collected a pillow and blanket and began setting up on the floor, in a corner, as far away from you as possible. 

You felt another pang of guilt as you watched him and uncrossed your arms, still feeling absolutely terrible. “No, no, wait. I’ll sleep on the floor. I don’t mind. I’m the one who had a problem in the first place.” You walked over to him and reached for the pillow, but he had a firm grip. “I’m serious, I’ve been sleeping in shitty hotels since I left the states so it’s really not much different.”

”A lady should never sleep on the floor. You should get some rest.” 

“I really don’t mind. You and the others have been at this much longer than I have, so just give me the pillow and I’ll take the-“ 

“I don’t deserve to sleep in the bed.” Polnareff snapped, cutting you off and swiftly pulling the pillow out of your hand and tossing it on the ground. 

You stood in stunned silence for a moment, staring at the man in front of you, who now had his back turned as he prepared his makeshift bed. You thought you hurt his pride, but now you started to wonder if you had struck something deeper. Without another word, you retreated into the bathroom once again, hoping a shower would wash away some of the stress and awkwardness. The tension in the air of the bedroom thick enough to cut with a knife. 

-

When you stepped out of the bathroom again, all of the lights and TV had been turned off, and Polnareff was sleeping soundly on the floor. As you looked at the grown man curled up, another pang of guilt came.

You didn’t mean to truly hurt him, you just couldn’t take him hurting you anymore, regardless of his intentions. 

You crept into the bed as quietly as possible, and eventually managed to drift off to sleep.

[totaldramafan-lauri]

A decade on this hellsite (affectionate)

So, while I'm working on putting the finishing touches on this chapter, and am getting ready to work on other stuff as well, I...I have an announcement....

This is something I should've said yesterday, but I misremembered....

Uh...

I dunno how to say this super eloquently, but....yesterday was my 10 year anniversary on Tumblr! Wooooo!!

Yup! I joined Tumblr on November 6, 2013, and I've stayed here ever since! W-well, give or take a few hiatuses, but....I-I never LEFT, and that's what I'm celebrating....XD

When I first joined Tumblr, I did so to please a couple people I looked up to, who wanted to talk to me more. I'd been lurking on the website for quite a while beforehand, and didn't have a blog because I thought I wasn't an interesting enough person for one....and I also lowkey feared being made fun of. Yeah, I thought that Tumblr was a competition to get the biggest following, and if no one paid attention to you, you might as well not exist. That kind of mentality was pretty much drilled into me by the state of my current fandom at the time, which was ruled by a select few popular blogs and everyone else had to either conform to what they liked and hated, or get mocked.

How stupid of me, right? Tumblr is more than just the fandoms on it. Tumblr is literally whatever you make of it. You choose what to do and say, and who to engage with. Heck, even if you don't wanna talk to ANYONE, you can still use it for yourself. XD

Originally, this was purely a Total Drama fan blog. Then, over time, as I got more and more comfy with it, I talked about personal things more often, and then branched out, and just made it a me blog, in around 2015 or so. This ended up being the right choice. It became a second home, and grew with me over the years. I've gone through a lot - different special interests (many of which ended up being very important to me), a lot of personal changes, getting more comfortable with certain parts of myself - and Tumblr has captured all of that. At this point, I don't do anything for the attention. I just like putting it out there.

I've even accomplished things that 2013 me would've never tried...like, slowly embracing self-shipping culture, and all the fics I've written because of it. In 2013, I had my fictional crushes, but I was embarrassed about them and usually hid them behind OCs. And I'd never written a full fanfic. I was a former roleplayer. And now....Holy crap, I'm not saying I'm a GREAT writer, but...t-to try it, like it, and then KEEP DOING IT?? I call that an accomplishment....

I've met many people, including good friends, and....I-I like to think that....I-I've matured thanks to it. When you're in one place for a decade, it really influences you a lot, even in less obvious ways. I was a LOT more spontaneous ten years ago. I-I said some insensitive stuff that I didn't realize at the time. I stuck my nose in places it didn't belong, and I let myself get too pressed over the opinions of people I didn't even like. I don't do any of that anymore. I'm a lot more picky with what sides of my fandoms I talk to now. I'm still not perfect, but I've grown a lot, and it's cool to think....that this blog is essentially a document of my emotional journey.

(Not to mention all the Eurovision seasons, heheh....)

Does that mean my old posts from 2013 and 2014 are worth reading nowadays? HECK no, but I'm happy they exist.

I-I'm sorry that this is so word-vomit-y, but......point is, thanks for ten years. Here's hoping I'm still here in 2033. Until then.....I-I have an update:

I dunno why I didn't do this sooner, but I have a "Current Interests" page now, which I plan to update frequently. This'll make it easier to keep track of what I'm into at the present time. So that I no longer have to hide anything....just...laying it all out there for people.

I thought I needed it. I've just been lazy for waaaaay too long. XD I need to act my age and let people know what they're getting into.