#imogen was blue the whole time

[lunarrolls]

every so often i remember the hytroaga heartmoor heist and i fucking lose it. quintessential hells. these people are in their element when they have barely any idea what’s happening, are in imminent danger at all times, have both no plan and every plan at the same time, and are trapped in a place with looney tunes logic

[kerosene-in-a-blender]

This thought probably needs more time to cook, by I find it interesting how the Imperium, as an institution, almost serves as a warning to Imogen about what she could become if she gave into her worst traits

Imogen who is so driven by the desperate desire to control not only herself and her powers but also to a degree the others around her. The Imperium that directly uses their psychic abilities to control the thoughts and actions of the smallfolk of Ruidus

Imogen who can be extremely petty and judgemental towards those she's not close to. The Imperium that is, from what we see of its border guards, judging the whole populace of Blue Promise as weak and easy to colonize and conquer

Imogen who, while she does suffer her powers to a degree, also revels in them, and often uses her ability to speak telepathically with others in situations where its not necessary simply because she can. The Imperium who ONLY speak this way, using their powers to situate themselves as above the other peoples of Ruidus

[sarawritestories]

Lydia Aetos

Nicknames: Twinkle Toes, Trouble (Xaden), Kitten (Also Xaden 😈),

Age: 20 Years

Siblings: Dain Aetos Second Year

Eye Color: Her Right Eye Is Hazel her Left Eye Is a Light Blue

Hair Color: Chocolate Brown, Wavey

Height: 5'1

Body type: Athletic, toned (Dancing and training her whole life)

Smells: Lilacs and Vanilla

Dragon: TBD

Powers: TBD

Best Friend: Violet, Ridoc, Garrick, Imogen

Love Interest: Xaden Riorson

Hobbies: This girl lives, eats, and Breaths to Dance, She never wanted to go into the Rider's Quadrant. You will find her dancing if she isn't studying. She also people watches.

Personality trait: Quiet, Not shy just doesn't have much to say. She is a silent observer, She's a lover not a fighter, but she will fight if pushed. She has been trained to fight for the same amount of time she has trained to dance,. She is loyal and will do everything in her power to keep her loved ones safe. When she is comfortable around a person they will find she is quite funny, and quick witted.

[callsign-rogueone]

This is my reminder to you to Hydrate or Die-drate. The summer is hot in America, as someone in the medical field I have seen one too many people faint from lack of fluids.

On a stupid side to make you smile at a scenario while you drink a glass. After reading the bonus Xaden Scenes from FW; Garrick knew from the start that Xaden had a thing for Violet even back to the first time they sparred together. Very observant; do you think that he and a select few other Marked ones had a betting ring of if they would in the very least hook up? It made me laugh thinking about this at work cause like imagine:

Xaden and Violet first hook up, there is lightning everywhere; Garrick and Liam had to change the Armoire the next day, when they meet for the next dagger exchange a few of them exchange coins and Xaden is just like "Really guys? Couldn't do it when I wasn't looking and wouldn't know."

Or Alternatively where he just says "guys she's special to me." And Imogen sarcastically says "omg that's so surprising."

I’ve got my emotional support Starbucks cold cup on deck, not to worry 🫡 it’s an iridescent dark blue that reminds me of dragon scales. I have a matching red one too hehe

oh I believe they absolutely have a betting ring on that, and on several other things.

in my little au, I’m gonna have them use a devalued Tyrrish currency for betting and favors since cadets don’t get paid. the idea being that it’s like Monopoly money as far as Navarre is concerned, since they no longer accept it outside of Tyrrendor post-revolution. it only has value within the marked group because they agree that it does.

a little peek of that from an upcoming chapter:

“Tyrrish Krown,” he explains before Violet can ask. “A defunct currency that has no value against Navarrian coin. We just use them to settle bets and call in favors.”

“If it doesn’t have exchange value, then…”

“They bankrupted us. All we had left was our gold, and whatever they didn’t burn.”

so they’d use that as betting chips. anyway, I got off the trail and into the weeds here, back to the original question:

Garrick was absolutely on the side of “they’re gonna do it”. Liam too after he started spending more time with Vi / became her bodyguard. idk who would be on the opposite side. maybe Imogen, because she really didn’t want Vi in the group at first. she’d be extra pissed having to fork the money over to Garrick of all people.

Xaden would be deeply unamused. definitely like you said… “really. you had to do this in front of me.”

to which Garrick would come back with something like… “you are singlehandedly responsible for a lightning storm that we all had to witness.”

cue some brotherly bickering.

also I don’t remember who I saw post it first, but I agree with the theory that they just swapped the armoires — Xaden ended up with the broken one, since it was either that or having to ask the school for a new one… and he’s not going to explain the circumstances of it breaking to anyone else, no thank you. (and assuming that the wingleaders have specific rooms like college RAs… that means Dain ended up with it the year after, lmao)

Liam and Garrick were laughing about it the whole time. but they’d also constantly remind him for the rest of the year how much he owes them for making them haul a bigass cabinet up and down two flights of stairs.

the details of her window being repaired remain unclear. they’ve caused a fair amount of property damage with their love… 😅

[oatflatwhite]

very brief heartstopper s2 takeaways bc i watched it in one sitting and now it is my bedtime:

ACE by angela chen. I screamed when i first saw it in the shot of isaac and james putting together the display table and then when isaac picked it up finally my heart SOARED. I just read this book and wrote a whole ass essay about being aroace using it, so to see it there on my tv... just made me so beyond happy. And to just HEAR the words aromantic asexual spoken on mainstream tv... yeah 💜🤍🖤💚

On a lighter note, nick's "mon amour" took me OUT

EVERYTHING about mr ayaji and mr farouk was absolutely SPLENDID

I loved imogen's reaction to nick's coming out. It was so far from perfect but it was so real. I loved how she was included in their group as the show went on and i love! The idea of her and sahar! Hello!!!

The tori v. david smackdown on the staircase. Glorious no notes

THE SEVEN NEEDLEDROP. MY FAVOURITE TS TRACK OF ALL TIME. YES OK. OK OK OK. AND I'VE BEEN MEANING TO TELL YOU I THINK YOUR HOUSE IS HAUNTED YOUR DAD IS ALWAYS MAD AND THAT MUST BE WHY I THINK YOU SHOULD COME LIVE WITH ME AND WE CAN BE PIRATES AND YOU WON'T HAVE TO HIDE.

Also circling back to isaac, him reading summer bird blue after the art exhibition!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And him in shakespeare and co took me out i love that boy sm

just, like, things that jumped out to me RIGHT AWAY after that first watch. I did love the whole season so so so SO much. but had to note these first thoughts down!!!!!

[mintywolf]

A Long Road Home - Part Two Author Notes

(Title Page)

Well . . . here we go!

Once again the chapter opening has ended up being accidentally very timely with current campaign events. The Gelvaan chapter launch happened to coincide with the party visiting Gelvaan, and now the Delilah chapter is coinciding with . . . well. :|

Laudna’s one-eared wooden toy cat, Calamari, made a brief appearance in Remember Us but here she is in person. (Probably not a C-POP creation due to her poor construction that Chetney would find deplorable.) Since tuxedo cats are kind of the official Southern Gothic Discord pet it only seemed fitting for her to be one too!

I mentioned Imogen’s blue and white patchwork coat that Laudna made for her as a detail in two separate fics but didn’t actually have an idea of what that would look like until recently. Poking around on pinterest I discovered that there’s a whole genre of coats that are like a repurposed jacket with a flowy skirt attached, which seems very Imogen.

Thank you very much Astoria for the beta read of the script for this chapter. :)

[lavendertheys]

my favorite thing (Sugar, You)

for @thewhalelord <3

To each one’s own, but as far as Laudna is concerned, it’s not a lie if you genuinely believe that what you’re saying is true. 

When Imogen asks her about the obvious stiffness in her right hand as they work on an after-dinner puzzle, Laudna tells her not to worry, because Laudna isn’t worried, because there’s no swelling yet, and they needn’t waste precious energy on false alarms. Later, when Laudna tries to pick Cǎté up off the bed and can’t, she elects to shove him with her forearm instead, and Imogen isn’t looking anyway, so Laudna simply continues with her nighttime routine.

By morning the weakness hasn’t faded at all, but it hasn’t gotten worse either, so she calls that a win and parks herself on the couch and resumes her work on the scarf she’s been working on for weeks to give to Eshteross for his birthday. Laudna found the most beautiful blue yarn at her favorite craft store and is trying to do a cable stitch for the very first time—not so advanced that it’s beyond her understanding, but today she’s pausing every few minutes to stretch her hands and having the damndest time keeping her fingers steady—

“Laudna, that looks amazin’.”

Imogen’s voice is nothing but soft and sweet—one of the things Laudna loves most about her—but she startles at the sudden comment and tries to hide a wince as her knuckles flex sharply around her tools.

“I’m not even halfway done yet,” she says with a sigh, “but if I really lean into it I think I can finish by his birthday.” Laudna goes right into another hand stretch without thinking, isn’t quite as ginger with her left wrist as she should be, and her whole arm recoils at the subsequent pulse of heat.

She feels the couch cushion sink under the weight of Imogen perching beside her.

“Laudna…”

“I’m fine,” she cuts Imogen off. “I’ll be fine. I’ve crocheted through much worse before,” Laudna says in somewhat of a rush.

Imogen leans forward with an elbow propped on her thigh, head resting in her palm, and gives Laudna that look that means she’s about to see right through her in the gentlest way possible. “What color?” she asks quietly.

Neither of them can talk their way around the color system, and Imogen seems to be very aware of that in this moment.

“I… Yellow,” Laudna admits with a sigh.

“You know you’re not supposed to be pushin’ yourself when you’re yellow,” Imogen reminds her, still patient as ever.

Laudna’s shoulders sag even as her hands itch—metaphorically—to get back to the scarf. “I do, but—but this is important, and I’ve been having so much fun with this new stitch, and…” She forces herself to meet Imogen’s eyes. “Just this one time. Just long enough to finish, and then I’ll take a nice, long break. I promise.”

But Imogen only shrugs. “You don’t need my permission, Laudna. This is between you and your body. Won’t stop me from worryin’ about you,” she admits as her expression conveys as much, “but it’s still your choice.”

Imogen leans forward, kisses her on the cheek, and leaves her to it.

Laudna sighs again and splays all ten fingers out and back, looking away when they start to shake.

She spends the rest of the day taking as much ibuprofen as she can safely get away with, trying to work quickly (as if that will give her joints less time to process their irritation), and Laudna is definitely sore by the time they settle into bed, but still hopeful that this flare-up will hold off just a little longer. Imogen hasn’t asked her any more questions about it, but takes extra care with Laudna’s hands, and chooses to hold one flat in her palm and delicately caress the knuckles rather than lace their fingers together.

But, even with all of their caution, Laudna wakes up far too early the next morning to swelling and hot throbs of pain. The sun is only just starting to peek through their window shades and there’s not quite enough light yet to see her joints, but she can feel how bad it is, and tears of frustration come pouring out before Laudna can even consider trying to hold them back.

Imogen stirs beside her and she braces herself for disappointment and “I told you so”s, but instead she feels a warm, grounding touch at her arm and a feather-light thumb brushing back and forth.

“Ice or heat?” Imogen whispers.

Laudna’s chest stutters and she swallows at the lump in her throat. “Heat,” she chokes out, “please.”

A small kiss to her temple, then fingertips easing Laudna’s hair behind her ear, then Imogen slips out of bed.

She comes back several minutes later with heating pads and Laudna’s laptop and some extra pillows from the living room, and Imogen helps Laudna get comfortable before opening her laptop and scrolling to see where Laudna left off on her favorite show.

“I hate it,” Laudna mutters as she waits for the worst of the pain to subside. “I hate not being able to do my favorite thing. I hate having something wrong with the part of my body that I need the most. What—f-fucking rotten luck is that?”

Imogen sets the laptop aside, tucks in close to Laudna, and ghosts her knuckles along Laudna’s wet cheeks. “I know,” she soothes, soft and quiet and steady. “It’s not fair.”

Laudna sniffs a few times and takes a deep, shaky breath. “What am I supposed to do now? His birthday is—I don’t have time.”

“Well, personally,” Imogen replies, “I’m willin’ to bet that he won’t give a shit if you’re a few days late. He’d want you to take care of yourself first,” she points out, “because we both love you a whole lot, birthday scarf or no birthday scarf.”

A cozy silence settles between them as Laudna focuses on calming down, and when she’s confident her voice will be steadier, she clears her throat a little.

“Ibuprofen?”

“Comin’ right up,” Imogen promises, and opens the drawer to the bedside table to retrieve Laudna’s meds.

“Also, Laudna adds, voice still slightly wobbly from her tears, “I finished season four last week when you were sick and slept all day. I’m halfway through five, I think.”

Imogen pauses in the middle of shaking two tablets into her palm to shoot Laudna a teasing look, and all Laudna can do is shrug.

“The blonde one got abducted and the brunette one was freaking out about it and they dragged out the rescue for like twenty episodes and I hoped they would admit their feelings once she found her and they didn’t say anything but they did hug each other for an extra long time so I have to assume they’ll kiss in the season finale.”

She watches Imogen process her recap, looking almost like she’s trying to do complicated math in her head, but eventually she just blinks in confusion and hands Laudna the ibuprofen.

“Who?”

Laudna nods her head toward the computer. “Just start the episode and I’ll catch you up as we go.”

Imogen kisses her and then barely remembers to switch seasons in the drop-down menu, and Laudna smiles for the first time since her hands started to hurt.

Read on AO3

Sugar, You (Complete)

[oh-no-its-dragons]

Dead Dove

So over on the RQ server we were talking about dead!Xaden fics and @sarcasticmothwrites mentioned that you can't write a dead!Violet fic from Xaden's POV because of the chain reaction.

And the plotbunnies apparently decided to take that as a personal challenge.

Warning: Dead Dove, Do Not Eat

I feel it when Sgaeyl's life spills out, soaking back into the Source.

It begins with a pounding in my chest, and the sensation of claws around my heart. The daylight turns solid black around me, shadows forming a wall without even needing a command. For a moment I think it's one of those fucking Sages trying to teach me respect again, and I start to throw up my shields.

That's when I realize where it's coming from. The navy blue night sky of Sgaeyl's presence on my hill as if she'd never left, as if I'm not standing on barren earth here now where I used to let her power and her love wash through me.

She'd banished me, but she'd never completely severed our bond.

I wonder what could make her reach out now and when I see the stars falling in her sky I know. She's dying.

The wrench in my gut when I realize she's dying and I won't die with her is harsher than would have expected. It's been years, years of loneliness, of dragging myself up through the venin ranks, learning their secrets and leaving them for the rebellion to find-

For Violet to find-

Oh gods, Violet. If Sgaeyl is dying, then Tairn is going with her to whomeever takes the souls of dragons, and Violet…

There's no way for me to know which part of their bond was reason for it, whether Violet's already gone or taking her last breaths against Tairn's bloodblack scales. The scar on my chest burns, my scarred and faded relic burns, my own breath burns in my chest.

I should be dying with them, Violet in my arms or my hands on Sgaeyl's side. If I was a better man, I would be dying with them, or maybe if I was there I would have saved them.

Instead I'm alone here, wrapping myself in layer after layer of shadow like the blankets I hid in when my mother left, as if I have any right to be upset. As if I have any right to grief or regret after everything I've done.

In my mind, on my hill, the stars have gone out of the night sky now. The dark blue fades lighter and lighter until it's gone, replaced with the parched, bone-white sky that's all I ever see now. Dead sky and dead earth, and me standing here wondering if maybe I've been dead the whole time.

I am realizing just how much the knowledge that Violet was out there, still fighting, kept me tethered to my sanity. I haven't let myself think about it, but now my walls are broken and every feeling I put away in the last three years rushes in. Has Bodhi forgiven me for leaving the burden of the rebellion to him? Have Garrick and Imogen finally gotten around to talking to each other? Has Sloane been able to come out of her brother's shadow?

Are they still alive?

Do I deserve to know if they are?

No, not yet. I've played at this, but I haven't done enough. I stand up and the shadows around me retreat.

I stare at the back of my hand, where black veins snake under my skin and disappear into the whorls of my rebellion relic. My heart never let go of Violet or Sgaeyl, but the rebellion had been my family. It's time to take this fucking seriously.

Back on my hill, I plant my feet on the dead ground and send myself as deep as I can go into the ground. Sgaeyl returned to the Source. Tairn went with her, and a part of Violet would have stayed with him, I'm sure, no matter what Malek tried to make her do. Fallen stars. The inkpot sky on Winter Solstice the first year after Threshing when Sgaeyl took me back to Aretia, hours on her back feeling her breathing and the cycle of energy between us. I know this. I know her. And she reached out to me at the end, so maybe I can even believe she wanted me to do this.

I pull, and I hear her clear as the last words she said to me, "I chose you!" She did. She chose me. She told me I was ruthless, and relentless, and she liked that. She had given me such a gift.

That gift is still mine, the last lifeline. I feel her warmth in my veins, flowing upward. I can almost, almost feel her breath on me as it reaches my heart and mixes with everything else I've taken, everything I've carried, and begins to flow into the rest of me.

I pull and there's more, there's so much, there was always so much and I'm no longer afraid of burning out. I can carry all of her, because that's all that's left, and I feel the burn that Tairn's energy had always felt like at the corner of my hill, like when I snuck into my father's good liquor cabinet as a kid. When I recognize it I drink it in like a drowning man because I know, I know-

Ozone and hope flash through me and I can feel her hands in my hair. Her lips on my neck. I can hold Sgaeyl and I can hold Tairn but somehow my Violence is the one who's always been too much. I shatter, my awareness ghosting through what feels like every shadow on the continent.

Every venin I can find is torn apart by their own shadow. We're hard to kill but not immortal, not when reduced to shredded, rotten meat. I feel the shadows of running feet, of dragons wheeling mid-air to change tactics, the obliteration of shadows that disappear in fire.

I come back to myself choking for air, and somehow, impossibly, Violet is holding me. I only feel the fever when her hands are cool on my cheeks, and I wait for something awful, something I know I deserve.

"Say something," I manage to get out.

"Come home."

So I do.

[genderlesssinner]

Prepare yourself for more of my rambling bullshit

I apologize this is gonna be LONG as I just spew my thoughts while watching

Oh right Liliana is here I forgot this is where we left off OOF

The Weave Mind built the fortress, okay okay okay

Burrow Site?? Ah the dig to the cage

Oooh no he's using Liliana for the projection??

Oooo fae info dump

Are the Unseelie part of how Ludinus does the widespread projections? Or is he just rallying the troops

I am both stressed and love how eager Travis always is for things to go poorly

So much teleporting if they do this and going to the Fey is time fucky so that could be bad I hope they remember that and maybe Morri can still help with that?

Istg Travis. That die roll is gonna get Chet one day and no one is gonna believe it at first cause he fakes out so much

"we're not interesting enough for that" TAL

Part of me really hopes they turn the Sorrowlord fully against Ludinus but I also don't want that sombitch anywhere near Fearnie

Always walkin and talkin, or they would never get anywhere. Ever.

This meeting should be interesting.

WHO ARE THE OTHER DRAGONS MATTHEW?

I know my love, J'mon is one. Who are the other two.

Love having telepathic bond, hell yeah Imogen

GET IT LIL MAN dayum WHO IS HERE MATT AAAAA THE WHISPERSSSSS

Braius apologizing to Fearne is hilarious to me Fearne is the last one to be picky about relationship stuff yet he kissed Imogen and it it's fine lol

TALIESIN IS SO INTO THIS I love Taliesin's reactions to everything omg

"shut up baby I know it" LIAM LEMUR O'BRIEN

I have so many mixed feelings about all of this wow okay

Thank you for stopping them Matt

My boys? WHO DID YOUR HALFLING EYES SEE ORYM?

Oh no oh um is that papa Wyvernwind?? It iiisssss oh shiiiiiiitttt

Hoo boy, those are big ass golems

WHO IS THE SILVER DRAGON MATTIE

Oooh man I love these absolute chucklefucks

The beacons are lit

Cerkonos!! Fuck yeah. Ashari!

Vex is like fuck the politics we have to *stop* this

Everytime they say Sunder King it sounds SO FAMILIAR and I can't remember it's driving me bonkers

That is one hell of a name Matt

Oh SHIT the dragon Zone of Truthed the whole damn place ooooff

Oh shit Braius of of everyone being able to lie? That totally won't bite is in the ass WILL IT SAMUEL?

VOX MACHINA ASSEMBLE BITCHES

OH SHIT the fucking bright queen vouching for the mighty nein shiiiitttt if she only knew

Taliesin: happy wiggles

Oh poor kiki dealing with all these assholes on top of everything else

Dorian thank you oh my god I was sitting here like Ash pls I love you but this one time keep your opinions to yourself you beautiful dumbass

Oh no

Okay maybe it's okay that Braius can lie ...maybe

Many months = two whole days

A GUY WHO MAKES Chairs crying

"what's the Platinum Dragon's mother's name?" Hoo that throwback

Oh boy Sam is making something Canon rn

Interesting okayokayokay

Oh Ashton oh no

Oh. Okay. No I'm vibing with this though.

Fearne flashing the room would be hilarious

"quick spin the bottle" XD

Oohhhh showing them is uh an interesting choice right now with the uh exhaustion that comes after

Fuck shit I missed a bit because technical issues hell

Oohhhhhh hh my sweet bard boy

Robbie is such a wonderful story teller ugh

Orym blue screening over Dorian and his horsedragon, love him

Chet is gonna wolf out ain't he.

Tiny sexy breath 🤣🤣🤣

Aaand there it is. Ope he's not actually changing okay okay

OH SHIT TITLES OH MY FUCK AKXBSUHVG

I totally got distracted and missed something said but it's fine I'll watch again Monday

Chet

Oh

What

Where's papa Wyvernwind

Yeeeeeee

I forgot his name is Bronte

Yeah no tracks okay fuck.

Break time! More rambling fuckery in the second half yall

Go use the bathroom and get drinks and snacks

[av-a-fletcruel]

Watching dead poet society and thought of Xaden…being a poet.

Xaden being poet as he wrote her a poem of how he feels and how he would "watch the ambers of ash fall into the flecks of his darkest of hair to be able to see her stare with her hair down off end so fare that they are envied by a vein venin daher s as Silver as a basgiath war college cadet rarity having one in their palm infront of a traitor to defenceless of none bravery is found in their soul, for you dear couple have become a slither of silver saviour our defenders hold to gratitude and respect but a stare from those wonders of palest blues flickered with armed flames if amber to rain terror on those who betray or prey on the defenceless we only try to save. So dear wow my treat with a kiss as I do you and let me have you lay in my bed no sexualities to be loved by you just let down your hair and look at me and I’m loved by you, now smile and watch me be devoted and devoured by you.“

For poet Xaden be chased down by Garrick to have a read as Imogen is surprised to just hear what he would do

For Xaden bring post bring Violet nothing but her heart melting as she loves them to death and tells jesina to not add it in the history book she writes

For Xaden being a poet and Violet wanting someone to do a surgery when she died to dig the poem with her [as she also loves book’s, literal works,poems] and all his letters(even a drawing of her and a storm, a storm from bashiath room one with an unshattered and one shattered, one in his room in aretia, and finally one in his room in the eastern wing of the Samarian outpost.) and for her to be diverted into her heart and buried with them.

For Xaden being a poet and next time Violet sees him asks him to read it out loud to her as she states at him saying each word with such care and asking him to repeat the whole poem as she lays down on his bed eyes closed taking each cursive syllable in

For Xaden being a poet as Violet trying to re create one for him

[(Xaden being a poet is just so aaaaaaahhh)]

[blueberreads]

Books good: all my 5 star reads of 2023

I didn’t realize before starting Jade Shards how much I missed The Green Bone Saga’s characters! It was such a treat getting more of their background. A reread of the whole series is imminent!

TJ Powar Has Something to Prove was so addictive I listened to the audiobook in one sitting. It was the perfect funny, light-hearted contemporary read.

I expected to like Tiger, Tiger, but not to completely fall in love with it! I had to immediately catch up with the webcomic after I finished book one. These characters are everything to my pirate rotten brain.

Ten Thousand Stitches was just as sweet and charming as Half a Soul, the first book in the series. Olivia Atwater is simply becoming one of my favorite authors.

Obviously, after reading it for the third time, The Unspoken Name remained the best book to be ever written. I’m forever grateful for this book’s world-building, simultaneously dark and hilarious story telling and the best queer found family of idiots.

The Sword of Kaigen was a surprise new favorite, with its amazing characters, complex family dynamics and stunning fighting scenes.

Imogen, Obviously was another cute and funny contemporary. A clueless, idiot teenager who thinks she isn’t even allowed to be queer? Not something that speaks to me though. Nope.

I rarely rate non fiction books, but I had to give all the stars to All Boys Aren’t Blue. It was a super emotional and interesting read.

Hey, it’s Olivia Atwater again! A gender fluid fallen angel tempting humans and stealing chocolate was all it took to make Small Miracles the sweetest romance.

Far From the Tree was another addictive audiobook I finished in one sitting. I enjoyed the complex family dynamics and totally get the comparisons with the This is Us tv show.

Ellen Outside the Lines was a delightful middle-grade story, about an autistic kid making friends and trying out new pronouns. I also had a great time mentally revisiting Barcelona—where I briefly lived—along with the MC!

After the second season of the tv series starring my emotional support angels, I had to reread Good Omens! This book has been one of my favorites for fifteen years and it’s still as funny and feel good as the first time I read it.

Moonstruck was such a stunning, sweet and funny graphic novel about mythical creatures navigating life—and at some point a magician trying to steal their powers.

In Other Lands was another addictive read. I loved the characters and magic school setting.

[utilitycaster]

Feel free to answer whenever you feel like, but i just saw an ask you've answered where you said " FCG's attitude towards the Changebringer is Jewish, Imogen's attitude towards the gods is Goyish. "

As Goy myself i really would love to hear you expand on this because i never thought about it like that until now but i can kinda see it (??)

Ok now this is something i realized mid-writting this ask and, if this is something Sam thought of doing on purpose, maybe the lose cables or "hair" on FCG is a convenient way to introduce a more obvious bit of Jewish analogy by introducing an Exandrian Kippah equivalent (??)

So...this requires a lot of context that to be fair I think a lot of people might not have.

The *Lenny Bruce voice* is a reference to a comedy routine by Lenny Bruce, a Jewish comedian from the 1950s and 60s, in which he would just go through like...random things or people and assign them "Jewish" or "Goyish" based on vibes. Like...he sorts different cigarette brands as Jewish and Goyish. He calls Ray Charles (not Jewish irl) "Jewish" and Al Jolson (Jewish irl) "Goyish". It's like when people on Tumblr say "oat milk is a girl to me and almond milk is a boy" or whatever. It's cultural rather than religious, and worth noting that Goyish in this context is often equated more with WASP attitudes than with Christianity on the whole. (For more, see some brief commentary here).

This is actually based on broad philosophy and not specifics, and actually the kippah example you give is kind of specifically the sort of representation I tend to oppose, because it's frequently the representation given. A lot of Jewish representation in fiction takes surface-level elements and is like "cool! Jewish character created! Done," because they threw a kippah on someone or had them leave a small rock on a gravestone. In the Christmas episode, they'll have one character who has never engaged with Jewish culture in any other context be like "don't you mean...Happy Hanukkah?" and then that's the last you've heard of it. You can make a character who smashes a glass at their wedding until you're blue in the face but, as I've said many times, one of my favorite forms of "representation" in media remains the comic version of G. Willow Wilson's run of Ms. Marvel, a Muslim character. Because that actually understood my high school experience! That had the complexities of being in a public high school but needing to miss events due to religious obligations the Christian majority did not have, or not being able to eat the pepperoni pizza my friends ordered! That actually captured my day-to-day lived experience, rather than being like, a weird archaeological dig into "Jewish Ritual Objects And Practices" that are then pinned onto a character like they're Jewish Barbie. A Kippah placed on a character who has an otherwise extremely Christian mentality is just a hat on a guy.

So anyway the reason FCG's coin strikes me as a very Jewish practice is not because it's literally indicative of any specific Jewish rituals. It's because it's very much a dialogue with a higher power that provides a lot of room for interpretation and even disagreement. And it's very focused on the here and now - FCG comes to the conclusion that the details of the Changebringer are not going to be answered and are not technically relevant; what matters is their actions in this time. Like, the decision FCG makes in episode 53, to go into the Grand Disc to see if they can help, is explicitly "if we cannot get a direct answer from a deity, we need to focus on living out their values and helping people." Meanwhile, Imogen's initial attitude towards the gods doesn't really grapple with the idea that people have free will and actions ultimately speak far louder than words, which is antithetical to the Jewish philosophy. Like, Judaism doesn't really have a solid idea of the afterlife (there are multiple vague concepts with no real consensus other than 'really not the most important thing to focus on') and while it does have a concept of souls it's sort of like...the divine within us all. The Ruby Vanguard ideology is remarkably consistent with (for example) Calvinist predestination and presumes a monolithic attitude with little room for questioning or free will that is entirely foreign to my upbringing, and even considering it for a second feels bizarre to me. Which isn't to say it's bizarre for Imogen to do so because, well, she's not Jewish, but it is philosophically incompatible with pretty much any Jewish worldview.

This was a very long way of saying "Jewish representation for me needs to be about ongoing day-to-day lived experience and philosophical outlook and as such most representation fails because it's single moments in time - a specific holiday or custom used as a lazy shorthand for an entire diverse religion and subculture. Within a world that is always going to be incompatible with the basic tenets of Judaism re: ethical monotheism and six thousand years of highly specific historical events, what I find most relatable is attitudes towards the divine that I find compatible. And FCG's attitude towards the divine is compatible, and Imogen's is not."

[bobfloydsbabe]

drinking hot cocoa in small cafés with eccentric professor bob?

- @bradshawsbaby 💕

Darling, this is such a good one for these two! Saying I got carried away would be an understatement because this turned out to be almost 600 words. Apparently, I can't control myself. I hope you like it!

winter vibes prompts open for: eccentric professor bob, librarian bob, mob boss bob, and rhett abbott

From the table, she watches Dr. Floyd order from the barista with an easy smile. It’s rare she gets the see the professor let his guard down, but watching the scene in front of her makes her wish he would do it more.

She’s not sure where they stand. They spend more time arguing than doing actual work, and more often than not, she wants to claw his eyes out or rip out her own hair. He’s grumpy and unbearably stubborn, but she can’t help but want his approval.

He thanks the barista and walks back to their table, holding two steaming mugs in his large hands. She spends more time thinking about those hands than she should. It’s becoming a problem.

“Here,” he says and places the mug in front of her. The scent of chocolate and cinnamon fills her nostrils, and for the first time all day, the corners of her mouth turn up.

“Thank you.” Lifting the mug to her lips, she sips and lets the chocolaty deliciousness warm her from the inside out. She hums in appreciation. “That may be the best hot chocolate I’ve ever had.”

He lets out a breathy chuckle. “Yeah,” he agrees. “Anna knows what she’s doing.”

They sit in silence for a while, sipping their drinks and watching the first flakes of snow fall outside. It’s peaceful, a whole hour from the hustle and bustle of campus.

“Imogen.”

She looks at the professor, shocked that he used her first name. It sounds foreign on his lips, but good. She could get used to it.

“What?”

He pushes his half-empty mug to the side and leans his forearms on the table, eyes locked on hers. “Are you alright?”

Instantly, tears start prickling behind her eyes, and she looks down so he won’t see. She’d hoped he wouldn’t ask. She doesn’t want to cry in front of him, doesn’t want him to see her at her lowest.

The lie he won’t believe comes easily. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine.”

She raises her eyes again. “I think I know if I’m fine or not.”

He glares at her, daring her to argue again. There’s a part of her wants to, simply because it’s what they do, but then he reaches for her hand and gives it a quick squeeze. “You don’t have to tell me,” he says, voice deep and gravelly with the slightest accent she still can’t place.

“It’s stupid,” she mumbles, brushing away the traitorous tear that dared fall.

“Hey,” he whispers, placing his index finger under her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. “I didn’t take you to my favorite spot outside the city for nothing. Whatever it is, it’s not stupid.”

She stares at him. He’s so different from the person she’s gotten to know over the last couple of months. The man sitting in front of her is warm and caring. He offers gentle touches and shows her a place he usually keeps to himself. He keeps a lot of things to himself, and no matter how hard she tries, she can’t seem to chip away at that hard exterior. He’s offering her a piece of himself.

His thumb brushes over the knuckles of the hand he’s holding, and a shiver runs down her spine at the feeling. His eyes are bright and crystal blue, and they’ve been haunting her dreams for weeks. The idea of kissing him is on her mind a lot these days, too.

Imogen takes a deep, shuddering breath. “It’s a long story.”

[fallingthruspace]

Started a post regarding my thoughts about the season 2 premiere of Carnival Row, but it was getting way too long. So here’s the cliff notes version

🚨SPOILERS AHEAD🚨

- I’m really loving the variety in types of Faun that they’re introducing this season. So far my favorite is the man running the street fighting ring who looks like a bull

- That fae disease is fucking BRUTAL and I love the makeup and effects they did to show it. Watching Oona try to fly was heartbreaking

- Vignette and Philo are cute as always but seriously need some sort of relationship counseling. Or at least better communication skills

- Seeing Imogen and Agreus being happy for five whole minutes before shit hit the fan was nice. Also the fact that they apparently need to be touching/kissing 90% of the time is so sweet. Their love language is physical touch and we love to see it

- Nice to see that Dombey continues to be an insufferable piece of shit. I know he’s just there to be the racist asshole that everyone hates and I hope this seasons monster eats his face

- Speaking of insufferable pieces of shit: Ezra Spurnrose. I knew he’d make up some story about Agreus “kidnapping” Imogen to avoid a scandal or some shit. Still pissed me off

- And speaking of Ezra, that nightmare Imogen had about him was freaky as FUCK. Enough that it made me wonder if there was a reason, other than being with Agreus, that Imogen wanted to run away from Ezra specifically. (NOTE: no, I don’t think he touched her or anything like that, but he is a creep and maybe he did say or do something that had Imogen picking up on his creepy vibes)

- Please, for the love of god, let Tourmaline get over Vignette. Vignette is clearly choosing Philo over her again and again, Tourmaline deserves better

- I was wondering if Tourmaline would be the next Haruspex since a few of the trailers showed her eyes glowing blue just like Aoife’s were in The Gloaming. Guess I was kind of right

- i simultaneously love and hate Sophie Longerbane lol

- interested to see how Agreus knows that faun Imogen was talking to in the kitchen (Leonora? I can’t remember how to spell her name)

- I fucking KNEW that the Ravens would burst into the room before Philo could make his big announcement. It’s waaay too early in the season to spill that tea

- I did not expect Dahlia and that other Fae to be killed, seeing their heads nailed to the wall genuinely took me by surprise

- Does anyone know what the critch who look like a tall, upright version of Gollum from LOTR are? I’ve rewatched s1 multiple times and don’t remember them being mentioned.

- New Dawn feels like a thinly veiled Communism metaphor

[dadrielle]

Trick or treat!

Happy Halloween! Instead of a trick or a treat, I will give you a Rick and a peek!

The Rick, from Abby and I talking about Call and Response Laudna:

The peek, aka how Call and Response Chapter 3 was going to start until I determined I needed to swap back to Imogen's POV, actually:

Laudna was on a mission.

On a carousel in the back by the pharmacy Laudna found what she was looking for, a pair of chunky sunglasses that wrapped around her whole head and blocked the peripheral vision as well as the usual forward darkening. The beastly things made her look like she was set to star in a low-budget 80s hacker film, but the relief when she put them on was near instantaneous. The lenses were an intense blue-light blocking orange, and cast the world in a dramatic golden hue that called movies to mind again, though this time the ghastly filters they would use as a shorthand for places as “other.” Greens and reds were violently bright, but when she looked at the LED display on the register, the numbers that were meant to be there, bright, showing the price, were completely invisible to her until she took the glasses off. Perfect.

Laudna fussed about and grabbed a few other supplies, just in case, and hustled back across the street with her spoils. She had not quite made it back to the room when her phone buzzed. Fuckballs, not quite fast enough, then.

Where are you? Woke up a bit ago

Little worried though I’m sure you’re fine

Sorry I slept in so late

Absolutely fine indeed Imogen! I ran out to grab some things from the pharmacy. I’ll be up in just a moment.

You didn’t drive didja?

Don’t want your head hurting on my account

No, I did not drive yet, but I’d like to have a chat about that actually.

[rosegrlwrites]

It’s the middle of the night when Orym plants Seedling into the dirt, adorning it gently with delicate sprigs of pale baby’s breath and dark indigo forget-me-nots. Anything to get it closer to the earth and to the Wildmother.

“I don’t know if you can hear me. I don’t know if you can hear any of us anymore. I hope you can. I've heard too many stories firsthand and read too many tales to discount the good that you, many of you have done in this world. I don't know if you have anything left in you, but I'm praying. We could really use a little help down here. I know you can, too, and we'll do our best. But any miracle you can spare.”

“My mother, her name was Livandra, and she was blessed by the Wildmother.”

Bor’Dor is standing in the center of the shrine of Oma-Dua, for once, not appearing afraid, but worn and frustrated and wracked by the never-ending pain of sheer loss.

“My mother taught me her ways in secret, away from the watchful eyes of the rest—the city and the church. I was young and inexperienced, and one day, I had to go into town to get some tools. A group of rich kids started a fight with me, and I couldn’t control my powers, and I Inflicted Wounds on them. Nearly killed one of them. It was an accident, but my mother knew that they wouldn’t let me live. So she took responsibility for it and she took the fall.”

“She believed in the gods, and said that as long as we had faith in them, that we would be taken care of. She accepted her face. Whatever that may be. But my brother, and my father, they fought for her freedom against an entire army. I watched her eyes as her faint in them and that moment shatter into pieces. The gods that she—that we had trusted—let us down. The last thing that I remember was her setting a Vitriolic Sphere on herself and the guards as they swarmed her.”

“And so, I ran. I fled up to the Cyrios Mountains and found a community, and was asked the same question you all have been asking the whole time.”

Do I believe in the gods and that what they do is good?

“And I did not.”

There is so much pain in his eyes. Sadness and tortured, twisting pain after having to watch so much.

“I saw you! You killed my fiends at Marquet! You were there!”

And standing there, Laudna won’t say it, and you can’t see it in her Form of Dread, with her eyes glowing with a less recent lavender hue, but there’s both terror and pain buried deep in the shade.

“I'm really sorry, Bor'Dor. I just can't stand having anyone else betray me.”

The lavender deepens into this midnight, nightmarish shade as the traitor falls unconscious, a soft heartbeat flickering in the back of her mind.

Doesn’t this just feel so good, darling? Doesn’t this feel right?

The shimmer of his life sinks into her, and all Laudna can do feel. Feel everything that she’s been through—losing Imogen, losing her friends, losing so much—death after death after death until it no longer bothers her and is simply something that happens.

But as she stands here, she has control.

Control as a lavender flame burns down her arm. Control as it curls, vibrant and violent.

Control as the shrine floor sprouts blue roses and soft whit-pedaled flowers.

Control as Bor’Dor Dog’Son falls limp and is reduced into nothing but a tortured memory and midnight-purple ash.

And just as quickly as she has it, that control fades back into the recess of her mind as everything rushes over her.

And for the first time in a while, she cries.

“It’s okay.”

“Ashton?”

“It’s okay. It’s going to be okay. Come here, let’s go sit down.”

“W-what have I done?”

“Nothing that I haven’t. Nothing that—“ The genasi sighs. “I think we’re all going to have some nightmares when this is over.”

“I’m weak.”

“No. You’re just hurt. And it’s okay.”

The chamber is quiet as is can be for a horrified and hurt group.

The locket that Orym took from one of the people killed at the Malleus Key lays sprawled over the ashes.

In time, the shrine moves on. The keeper is respectful, but continues with their duties.

“Let us all take a night of rest. In the morning, I will usher you to your destinations of your choice. Thank you for the kindness you’ve done me and for bringing peace to my circle."

“Laudna?” Prism nurses her broken fist as she gently sits down next to her. “You can say if you don’t want to talk to anyone right now. Would you prefer to be alone?”

“Quite the opposite, I think.”

“Really? Oh. Okay. I just want to say that I’m really sorry for losing me temper there, and I feel like your friends—I don’t know, I just—I know that you’re dealing with a lot, and that seems like it’s no the first time you’ve been betrayed—I think that was the first time I’ve been betrayed. But I’m really, really sorry that that keeps happening you you, and I’m sorry that I accelerated things.”

“To be honest? I was so lost in my rage and my anger. It was a bit of a blur. I wouldn’t be too hard on yourself, Prism.”

“I don’t think you should be hard on yourself, either. It made perfect sense to me when you did it.”

“I’m just afraid that I hurt more than just Bor’Dor and, perhaps betrayed my friends in the process.

“What do you think that you did? What did it all mean—the purple?

“For many decades, I’ve had the lingering life force of an incredibly bad woman—who was a necromancer—latched onto me, puppeteering me, continuing to stay alive through me. These men, and the others, went through great lengths to ride me of her. But I am deeply terrified I just opened that door again. It seems many dark shadows are being released here lately.

“Yeah. But I think, if you close that door once, you can close it again. Sorry. I’m just an apprentice. What do I know? Anyway, I just don’t want you to feel bad. I thought it made sense what you were doing. At least, emotionally, I could understand it.”

“I feel like control is a fallacy. We’ve talked about it so much lately. Trying to control out current destinies. The town trying to control, and the oppressors coming to them. The gods trying to control and world, and the Titans trying to control the gods. But none of them have it. And I lost control of myself in exchange for the briefest moment of feeling empowered. I’m just confused.”

“Well, confusion is sort of like acknowledging that you don’t have control. So, maybe, surrounding to the confusion will be some sort of healing medicine for that.”

“You’re very smart, Prism. Very capable.”

“Oh, thank you. And you’re an incredible magic user. I also think that someday, you’ll be strong enough to just beat this bitch back to where she came from.”

“Thank you, Prism.”

The conversations echo softly in the chamber, reaching Orym in his quiet perch as he sits with his eyes as softly closed as he can get them. There’s so much history here, however complicated and broken it is, even in this moment. So much conflict and every individual choice that sets off a ripple somewhere in the distance, and everything that has been taken from him—Derrig, Keyleth, Will all in the name of philosophy or ideology or whatever -ology of the day it is.

They’re going to try and kill the people who took from him, from Imogen, from Laudna, from everyone, anyone who didn’t care who died to get whatever it is they wanted.

And he knows that he’d fucking die trying, if that’s what it came to.

This is no longer an escapade towards whatever the next step is.

This is war.