#thus distracting me from what i want to look at and often they give me a headache to boot. fun!

[flame-shadow]

ya know... that Updates post saying they disabled the animated icons was a fucking lie and i come across at least one every day. love that for me 🙃

[mariasont]

The Manuscript - A.H

a/n: this was supposed to be based on t.s new song manuscript, but it didn't realllyyy turn out like that

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x reader

summary: while unpacking you find a series of letters aaron wrote to you in college

warnings: angst, age gap (reader is 20s, hotch is 40s), haley and jack don't exist in this universe

wc: 1.3k

Your gaze swept over the towering stacks of boxes littering your living room floor, and with a resigned sigh, you began the daunting task of unpacking them. Your hands found the nearest box deftly lifting the flaps as you began to pull out its contents. Your felt the soft crinkle of paper beneath your fingers, and gently, you drew out a stack of letters, their edges softened with time, all neatly tied together with a string. 

Your heart seized a sudden halt as you realized just what they were. Your throat constricted, parched, as tears stung your eyes, threatening to spill over, your fingers coming to rest over your mouth. Instinctively, your body sank onto the cold hardwood floor, gently placing the papers down beside you. You had forgotten these had even existed, let alone made it with you on the move.

You didn't remember seeing them when you packed, did you? Your fingers shook slightly as they picked apart the knot, and with a hesitant touch, you reached for the first piece of weathered paper.

January 5

Honey, 

Your letter was a welcome surprise, far sweeter than any text message could be. I enjoyed spending New Years Eve with you too, and I hope this case ends quickly so I can take you on a real date. 

I'm glad to hear college is going well. Should you encounter any more issues with your professor, please let me know. You're a bright young woman, and I have no doubt he'll see that in time. I am looking forward to your next letter.

Yours,

Aaron

--

March 12

Honey, 

I'm glad you enjoyed our date as much as I did. At times, I find my thoughts wandering to you in that dress, and it's a welcome distraction. 

I'm glad you look forward to our letters, because I do too. And yes, rest assured, I'm taking all necessary precautions in the field. Don't worry, the team has my back, especially Garcia--she's got more eyes on us than stars in the sky. 

Goodluck on your psychology exam. I know you will ace it.

Yours,

Aaron. 

--

May 5

Honey,

I've read your letter several times, and I want you to know that it's perfectly normal to question your path. Trust your instincts--they've led you well thus far. Remember you are allowed to change your mind. Your parents will understand.

No matter what you decide, I have no doubt you will succeed. You have a rare combination of intelligence and empathy that will serve you well in any profession.

Once I'm back, how about we go to that restaurant you love? Consider it a date.

Yours,

Aaron.

--

July 19

Honey,

Summer suits you, I can tell--even from a distance. I'm proud of the work you're doing--shadowing at the occupational therpay office and working with children is no small feat. You'll have to tell me all about it when I get back.

The case is demanding, as they often are. And as for the sweatshirt, consider it yours. I had a feeling it wouldn't find its way back to me anyway.

We should talk about getting you a key to my place. Then you'll have no need to borrow my things--you'll have access to them whenever you wish. 

I love you. I'll say it again when I see you.

Yours forever, 

Aaron

--

January 14

Honey,

Congratulations on your first semester of OT school. I am incredibly proud of you and everything you have accomplished. Smarty pants. 

I'm glad to hear you've been using the journal I gave you for Christmas. I would give you a thousand if that's what you wanted. 

When I'm back, we'll celebrate your achievements properly. Until then, know I'm grateful for you every day. You've made me the happiest I've been, and I cherish every moment we share. I love you. 

Yours forever,

Aaron 

--

May 20

Honey,

Your last letter lingered on the topic of our age difference, and I've been giving it a lot of thought. It's a subject that, admittedly, has crossed my mind more than once. But let me reassure you, to me, it's the person you are, not the years you've lived, that matters most.

I understand the concerns that come with this, and I want you to know that it's okay. Your feelings are valid. We're navigating this together, and I remain certain in my commitment to you and to us. 

We'll talk more about this when I'm home. I love you. 

Yours forever,

Aaron

--

August 8

Honey,

I want you to know that I didn't mean to leave things unresolved, I'm sorry I was called away. I'm not writing to rehash the argument. I understand everything you said, and it's given me much to think about.

You are the most important part of my life, and us being at odds is more challenging than any case I've ever face. I love you deeply, and I'm committed to finding a way through this together. When I return, let's sit down and talk--really talk. I'm sorry for the way things were left, and I hope we can move past this. 

Yours forever,

Aaron

--

December 22

Honey,

I find myself at a loss for words yet compelled to write to you. I've had time to reflect on everything that happened between us. I'm deeply sorry for any hurt I've caused, and how things unfolded. My only wish was for us to want the same things. 

Please know, I will always be here for you, in any capacity you need. I hope you find someone who is worthy of you and can provide the life you deserve. You deserve someone who can walk with you through all stages of your life--someone who can give you the family you dream of. You have so much to offer.

You are an extraordinary person, and I have no doubt you will find great love and joy. And though it may not be with me, please remember, I still love you.

Yours always,

Aaron.

--

You hadn't even realized you were crying until your tears began to soak into the page, each droplet distorting the text as it spread. Your hand moved instinctively to your face, the fabric of your sleeve brushing against your wet cheek. A decade-old ache twisted inside you sharply, as fresh as if it were only yesterday.

You returned the letters to their stack, the bow tied as neatly as it was before, and laid them at the bottom of the box. As the papers found their place, your focus shifted, something else catching your attention--the journal he'd given you.

The sudden patter of footsteps coming down the stairs snapped you back to the present. Hastily, you wiped away the lingering tears and secured the lid on the box. As you turned, your face transformed with a practiced smile just as your seven-year-old daughter came skipping into view, her voice bubbling with excitement, "Mommy, mommy!"

Gathering her up in your arms, you showered her cheeks with affectionate kisses, her infectious giggles filling the empty house. 

"When is daddy going to be home?"

With a gentle smile, you replied, "Soon, sweetheart," while your fingers danced along her side, eliciting more giggles. "Do you want to help Mommy unpack?"

She quickly scrunched her nose and shook her head. "Mmm, no, not really."

You laughed, and your heart swelled with love so intense it almost hurt. The front door swung open, and your daughter's voice pierced the air once more with a, "Daddy!"

Her little feet dashed off as she rushed to greet him, leaving you to resume unpacking. You barely had time to refocus when you felt a gentle touch in your hair.  Aaron was there, kneeling to your level with a tender smile. 

"Hi, honey," he said, his hand pausing as he noted the redness around your eyes. "What's wrong angel?"

You reach for the letters, holding them out to Aaron with a half-smile. "Just revisiting the time you were this close to losing the best thing in your life," you tease, a laugh bubbling up. But as the laughter fades, it morphs into a sob.

Aaron's laughter mingled with yours as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest. "Yeah, that was a close one," he admitted, his voice a soft rumble. "Glad I came to my senses." 

[cabinofimagines]

Tradition

I know we said to request only platonic stuff but I could not help myself. Therefore, requested by me to myself, I am writing a romantic poly!solangelo fic. They keep coming and they don't stop coming- Pairing: Will Solace x reader x Nico di Angelo, Poly!Solangelo x reader Request: none Word count: 1.6k Warnings: None! -Asnyox

A lot of demigods have lost people and places dear to them, it was nothing new for a lot of the faces you saw during the holidays. Yet, it was hard to get used to losing things. 

You missed the time you spent at home. Of course, you loved camp, you loved your friends, but every time the holidays came around you felt homesick to a place you would never return to. The worst part was remembering the specific traditions you used to have with your parent - and knowing that you wouldn’t get to do those this year again. You often go through this period fine, a little high strung sometimes but with your friends, and boyfriends, on your side you would get distracted enough to only get sad when you’re alone. 

And it felt wrong to celebrate the holidays without your traditions, it felt weird to bring up your traditions and it was simply hard to communicate what you wanted. Maybe you wanted to be back home, never having known demigod life, or maybe you just wanted a hug and baked a specific recipe you used to make every year, or see your living room decorated specifically like it used to be. 

Either way, the holidays come and go every year and it seems that today was simply the day that your brain decided to be sad and homesick. Thus, you figured you would just spend some time wallowing in your misery on your own instead of bringing down the general mood around camp. Maybe a part of your reasoning was that the more happy atmosphere of camp would simply make you sadder and feel worse. 

However, your boyfriend seemed to have a different idea. You see, your sour mood around the holidays didn’t go unnoticed by your lovers, as you seemed to close off a little more each day from them. Nico especially wanted to make the holidays a bit special. In the previous years, before he stayed at camp year round, the holidays had always been tinted by grief and sadness. He barely remembered how he used to celebrate when his mother and Bianca were still around, but Will and you had slowly been giving him new hope. Perhaps, with the two of you on his side, he could slowly move on, and one of the steps he wanted to take was to rejuvenate his energy around Christmas. Therefore he had made some plans for the three of you.

“I’m not really in the mood to go out today, Nico.” you looked away from your boyfriend, “I’m sorry,” 

“Please?” Nico wasn’t one to beg, but he really wanted to spend time with you, “Will’s already in my cabin.” he offered as he held out his hand to you.

“I don’t want to bring your mood down,” you explained, but you slowly took his hand anyway, unable to tell him no. 

“That’s fine,” Nico grinned a little, “If there is anyone who would bring the mood down it would be me and you know it.” Then his face flushed a little, “besides, it wouldn’t be the holidays without my family.” 

“Your family?” you asked before, softly, “oh,” Your heart stammered, he had meant you and Will as his family, you looked at him fondly, “I love you, Nico.” You stepped closer before softly sharing a kiss with him.

When you finally entered the Hades cabin you didn’t notice much to be off. Will was laying on Nico’s bed, with his feet still on the floor. You sat next to him, putting your hand on his hair. Will smiled at you. 

“Nico got you out of your cabin?” Will asked, grabbing the hand that was on his hair and pressing a kiss to the palm as you hummed. 

“He had some rather good arguments,” you elaborated, “like loving me, and loving you.” 

“I didn’t take for our sunshine to be a poet,” Will sat up as Nico sat down beside him. They kissed softly, “But your talents are uncountable,” Will finished his sentence as he broke away. Nico had a blush on his face as he stared at his boyfriend. 

As you sat there for a moment in silence you realized that for a moment the never ending sadness you had felt the past few days had gone, chased away by simply being near your boyfriends. Perhaps you should note down that your loved ones would make you feel better, as much as loved ones could also make you ache. You shuffled your body closer to Will’s, and felt his warmth against your side. 

“So what’s the plan?” You asked, looking at Nico as he came out of his little daze. 

“Well, I thought maybe,” he hesitated for a second, the slightest sliver of doubt in his mind, “that we might celebrate the holidays with the three of us. As in, we make our own tradition?” he suggested, and Will nodded slowly. 

“My mom and I used to write each other small poems,” Will said, “Or I guess songs, sort of, each year.” Will then smiled softly, “Well, we still do. She sends them in the mail and I use Hermes Express to get mine wherever she is. It’s a small way we communicate. Although, the three of us don’t have to do that, it’s honestly a bit private for me.” Will admitted. 

“Did you have any traditions, Nico?” You asked. 

Nico shrugged slowly, “I don’t remember a lot, and never really had a celebration since coming to camp.” Then he flushed slightly, “I used to go to McDonalds, and simply get a festive meal.” 

“Festive?” Will poked Nico’s side, “What, do they add Christmas lights to it?” Nico shook his head. 

“No, but the people there,” he sighed, “I suppose I just sought out the energy, okay?”

“You’re cute,”  you told him, leaning over Will to kiss Nico’s cheek. On your way back Will grabbed your cheek and pressed a kiss to it.  

“What about you?” Will let your face go. You thought about it for a moment, but it didn’t take long  as you had been sitting with these feelings for a while. 

“There wasn’t much outside the standard things-” you sighed, “I suppose for us what mattered most was to spend the time together.” after another beat you resumed, “I mean, we always made a dessert together but the recipe changed every year,” you laughed at the memory, “we really should’ve written it down somewhere. I don’t even remember the name.” 

Nico perked up a little, “Do you remember the ingredients?” but you shook your head. 

“I only remember the taste when the nectar tastes like it,” You leaned on Will’s shoulder, “Which isn’t always.” 

“Well, we can just bake a different dessert each year until we find it, starting now.” Will suggested and you rolled your eyes, “That would take ages,” you objected, but Nico ignored you.

“Where will we bake?” Nico asked, “Last time I checked anything that could serve as a kitchen here is a bit off-limits.”

“I’m pretty sure Leo can give us something to work with.” Will said, and you felt the trembles of his voice through his chest. 

“What, he’ll let us bake on top of him? He’ll lay still for twenty minutes?” You joked. 

“No, we’ll lock him in a small, metal box until the food is cooked,” Nico said and you laughed. 

Nonetheless, after you made your way to Bunker Nine it only took Leo half an hour to have a baking station set up, with the condition that he would also get a part of the dessert. 

“And kisses?” He puckered his lips, and as you stepped towards him, Nico was faster, pressing a rock he had on hand to Leo’s mouth. Leo backed away, as he grimaced. 

“Hey! That’s unhygienic!” he objected, but Nico just smiled widely. 

“I dunno, stones are rather tasty if you ask me.” Nico put the rock on the table.

“Yeah, you need minerals in your diet Leo.” Will chimed in from next to you. Leo looked unimpressed as he waved you off. 

“I’ll be somewhere on the other side working on Festus, just make sure to call me when your dessert is ready.” 

And as you had limited resources - even Leo couldn’t magic all the ingredients from his workshop, and the Stolls only had a small stash of possibilities (that you could afford) - the dessert you made was rather simple. But that didn’t matter, even though for sure it was not what you used to make, it was special. Not perfect, and it still hurt, but keeping your traditions, carrying them over to your new life, it was special. And you knew you would keep doing it - keep carrying that which you got taught by previous family and friends, all because you loved them and they loved you. You’ll unconsciously carry them with you, their deeds and only when you miss them will you notice the print they left on you. But for now, keeping traditions from nostalgic times was all you needed to remember that even if there are people you no longer can meet, they will always stay with you. 

[astrologanize]

◉ pick a card : how you can make the best of your 2024

*please take a moment to take a deep breath and choose the image you are !most! drawn towards*

----------for pile 1 ⊹

there is a search for substance in your life, you want something real, something meaningful, and you're not doing anything to create it for yourself. you're secretly, or not so secretly, hoping and wishing and expecting for things to somehow fall into place one day. you keep yourself open to the universe, you keep yourself open to interpretation, and you are so open that you are structureless! how can the universe deliver whatever you're desiring when you don't know what that is? or even who you are!

unfortunately the key to it all isn't going to fall into your lap - you must sort through the emotional gunk that's residing within your inner tank and decipher what it is you want to be, what your values are, what matters to you, so that you can hand-pick the life that you want by having these standards in place. it's easier to take risks and to change your life once you have assurance in yourself and this can only happen when you know what you are vs what you aren't, what you like vs what you don't, etc.

gotta work hard to play hard too! "ugh i just want to travel and have a good time" okay but where are the funds coming from? do you know how to budget? do you know how to set up a trip? do you know how to procure the necessary steps in order to make the shit you want happen? to make the best of your 2024 you need to sort through your gunk and get choosier about your life; in doing so you're going to find your connections with others changing, you're going to understand where you've been lacking integrity, where you have been naive, what's worth adjusting for, what you need to attend to more, and once you have the framework built for yourself you're going to see how exciting life can be. no more waiting for life!

----------for pile 2 ⊹

so i see y'all like to throw everything at the wall until something sticks perchance...well, i mean, i guess you're trying at least? though that is better than doing nothing at all, how about you scale back and look at the big picture? you do all these things but where do they get you? i'm not seeing forward movement amongst all this movement i'm just seeing energy bouncing around in a box not going anywhere. perhaps all this stuff you do is to distract you from things you don't want to deal with. it's giving this meme

crazily enough, it is often true that less really is more (though in today's society that sentiment is going extinct and needs to be revived). try to stop dabbling in everything - a jack of all trades is a master to none. what activities/hobbies would you like to be an expert at? is there a craft you could or would want to monetize? what is it that you're avoiding in your life with these multitudes of distractions? give yourself a breather so that you can see the big picture clearer. you'll come to understand the value in setting healthy boundaries for yourself, knowing when to extend and when to just relax. sometimes it is okay to hold off and hold back because maybe there is something that needs to be dealt with first, maybe more time is needed, maybe something is just not worth the effort for now

----------for pile 3 ⊹

looking at the image for this pile gave me such a heavy, wistful feeling. why do you insist on fighting the universe so bad, hm?

are you in a job that sucks? seek something better! are you in a relationship that feels like a chore? love yourself! lean elsewhere! are you majoring in something that makes you miserable? is it worth that? i'm seeing that you need to learn how to trust the universe and follow a new, less traveled path that may be daunting with its uncertainty but you never know what could happen...that is both the best and worst thing about life.

thus far you have been traveling down the same path, you are very involved with this life that you have been trying to make work but i don't know if it's working, do you?

i'm hearing "give yourself a try" by the 1975!

you're learning allllll about the possibilities of life this year and why you should not in fact settle for what you are too afraid to leave. your heart is yours to follow

----------for pile 4 ⊹

oh, y'all take things to heart in an unhealthy way and are perpetually dissatisfied as a result. i imagine someone who gets in their feels over something minor that someone said in passing and instead of asking for clarification or reasoning with themselves, they act all woe is me and curl up in their room with the misbelief that nothing and no one gets them.

emotions can be deeply felt and i wouldn't say feelings can be liars per se but feelings can mislead us if we read too much into them. plus, when we focus too heavily on our own feelings we become engrossed in them to the point of self-defeating self-absorption. you have got to learn how to take things less personally, your lesson for this year is to learn how to socialize...how to mingle...how to have acquaintances...how to have a conversation and drop it afterwards instead of reading into every little thing and finding what's wrong with it. learning how to be embrace the more positive qualities of aquarius basically.

you have some misguidings to work through, there is illusory amuck due to you making mountains out of molehills - the melodrama is doing nothing good for you i'm afraid, tumblr girlies do love some tragedy and a feeling-dump post but for now...let's free ourselves i beg. it's not that deep, it's not that serious, get a grip and let it go. get off the internet, limit social media, touch grass, find some people to converse with even if its small talk at a checkout, somethin, otherwise you can continue to wallow i guess.

----------for pile 5 ⊹

nah...this pile gave me such a bad headache because...you're....whew......there's some narcissistic tendencies here i'm afraid. even if you think you're an angel sweetheart birthed from mary the unicorn, i assure you that you can in fact be a nothing short of domineering. there is a diva energy, there is a my way or the highway energy, there is an i'm upset so everyone is going to know energy, there is some area in your life where you are a tyrant.

there is a dire need to learn to take a step back, gather yourself, and consider others before unleashing your control and bulldozing your way through situations. you shall be forced to learn how to chill tf out this year and i claim that for you tbh because giving me a headache from your energy is WILD.

you need to examine your connections and make sure you're being receptive towards others. do you feel like you're a true friend to them? do you think you're supportive? do you hear them out? do you know what they're going through? do you know how they feel? do you attend to them in the ways they want and need? do you know what those wants and needs are?

make sure you're not being demanding and setting unreasonable expectations, especially for others. also look within yourself and make sure you're not overcompensating for any insecurities you may possess by having power trips. care about being a friend this year, play the supporting role and balance yourself out

----------for pile 6 ⊹

you're going in circles in your head and your heart, babes. eventually you just gotta rip off the bandaid and make a decision and let the chips fall where they may.

you're waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay in your head, you have all these thoughts and ideas, you have all these feelings and sentiments, you have all these things in mind that you want to set up for yourself, and there's so much that you're overloading yourself....there's no way to process all of it at once so nothing is getting done.

make decisions, find answers, get a grip on your feelings, and try to make sure you're not so in your head that you're putting up a guard around yourself. not everything is black & white or a matter of life or death, you're looking at it too extremely! lighten up and just do.

get a cool haircut, get some new accessories, try new boba, talk to your crush, life is meant to be lived!

[percheduphere]

LET’S TALK ABOUT EXPLORING LOKI & MOBIUS THROUGH THE LENS OF QUEER EXPERIENCE

Thank you for this request, @nabananab 

Before I dig into this juicy ask, I think it’s important to note (however obvious the fact maybe) that an individual’s unique engagement with art is an inherent and integral part of art. The intention of the artist and the sociopolitical influence of culture, while important in our interpretation of a work, are not the sole source of drawing the work’s meaning. We are all artists in one form or another. I consider myself one of the pen, and nothing is more important to me than art giving someone a sense of emotional connection. I should hope other artists would agree, and for this reason I am an ardent believer in art taking on a life of its own once it has been created. The creator’s word, while it matters to some degree, does not supersede an individual’s relationship with the creation. Our histories, our desires, our fears, our likes, our dislikes, indeed our infiniteness as fragile human beings, allow us to create an elevated, spiritual interpretation beyond the confines of original intent. With art, there is no such thing as “reaching” or “reading too deeply”. 

I leave this message with all of you as we look at these beloved characters through the lens of queer experience. 

LOKI 

Culture influences what we see and hear, which in turn influences artistic portrayal. Setting aside Norse myth, Marvel’s Loki is a classic example of a queer-coded villain (later canonized as a queer antihero). Deception, daggers, sexual temptation, transformation, and magic are all culturally tied to the “immoral” facets of femininity. Just as a strong, independent woman untethered to the control of man is deemed a “wicked woman”, a man demonstrating gender ambiguity and like qualities is similarly judged. Only masculinity is viewed as pure and good, and this no doubt was—and continues to be—a key force in white, western colonization’s destructiveness. It all but crushed our rich global history of divine femininity, gender diversity, and romantic and sexual expression. 

Asgard, as Marvel portrays it, is without a doubt a masculine-dominant warrior society. Only two women feature prominently: Queen Frigga and Lady Sif. Whereas Sif embraces her masculine qualities and fits in easily with Thor and the Warriors Three, Queen Frigga embraces her feminine powers, though her authority is submissive to the All-Father, Odin. Her influence is most heavily seen in her adopted son, Loki, with whom she shared and taught magic in hopes that Loki might “feel some sun on himself” despite the “long shadows [Thor] and [Odin]” cast. The magic that Frigga gifts Loki, however, attracts scorn. The subtext here is that Loki’s specialness, his individuality, comes from feminine powers despite presenting as a man, and a gender ambiguous one at that. Unlike Thor and Odin, he is not masculine. While strong, he does not exhibit Thor’s brute strength. He is cautious, thoughtful, another feminine quality, whereas Thor’s courageousness often veers toward foolhardy and brash.  

Thus, if Loki cannot be loved and accepted as he is (a queer person of another race), he will force love and acceptance through the power of the throne. Kings oft inspire fear, coercing subjects to love them whether they wish to or not. But we know Loki never truly wanted the throne. The throne is a mere distraction from, perhaps even a poor replacement for, what he truly wants: genuine love and acceptance that cannot be bought. Unfortunately, Loki believes he will never get these things, which is why, when Mobius questions him, Loki’s desire for control (Loki, King of the Midgard; Loki, King of the Nine Realms; Loki, King of Space) can never be satiated. Mobius challenges Loki for the exact purpose of revealing this to him. What do you really want? At this point, Loki does not have the words to form an answer. In S2E5, Syvlie raises the question Mobius originally asked in S1E1. It is then, after experiencing Mobius’s friendship and the other relationships that come to being as a result (including Sylvie’s), that Loki can articulate his answer. 

Loki’s othering, even before the discovery of his true identity as a Jotun (an allegory for a villainized foreign race), creates a lonely environment in which Loki’s potential for goodness is quashed by centuries of resentment, bitterness, and jealousy. His attempts at masculinity take the form of violence, all of which are, as Loki admits in S1E1, “part of the illusion; the cruel elaborate trick conjured by the weak to inspire fear.”  

Loneliness and the desire for love and acceptance are a universal human experience, but they are felt far more acutely within our intersectional queer communities. 

MOBIUS 

His fascination with Loki is compelling because there are many things we can infer about its reasons. The first, most obvious explanation is Mobius’s “soft spot for broken things”, which is in some ways tied to his qualities as a compassionate, forgiving, and supportive father. A secondary explanation is a wish for partnership. We know from S1 that Mobius’s friendship with Ravonna spanned eons. We later learn in S2E6 that he and Ravonna started out as peers, hunters. They were partners on the field, but where Mobius “failed” because of his humanity, Ravonna “advanced” because of her ruthlessness. This change in relational dynamics left him partner-less. Finally, a third, less obvious reason is Mobius’s desire to express himself in ways Loki does so effortlessly. That desire may come from the suppression and repression of his own softspoken queerness in order to survive the fascist culture of the TVA. 

Mobius is captivating for many reasons. Whereas Loki is a textbook example of culture viewing “queerness as evil”, “queerness as flamboyance”, “queerness as stylishness”, “queerness as loudness”, “queerness as sexual promiscuity and deviance”, “queerness as chaos”, Mobius very much aligns with the image of a straight-passing, repressed queer individual. This is an identity that does not get as much attention or presence in artistic media as it deserves, for there are many who need this representation to reflect them. He is not stereotypically queer by any means: he is not colorful. He is not stylish, flamboyant, or loud. His sex appeal primarily derives from the viewers’ attraction to his personality, though it certainly helps that Owen Wilson is quite handsome.  

Combine these three reasons, and it becomes easy to see how a character (or person!) like Mobius might fall in love with a character (or person!) like Loki.  

There is a certain amount of beautiful irony in how Loki and Mobius affect one another and consequently their identities. Mobius, feeling compassion toward an individual who has been brutally othered and oppressed, seeks to free Loki from the confines of his narrative, as determined by the “Time Keepers”.  The only feasible way to do this is to bring a variant of Loki out of the timeline and into the TVA. Mobius then provides Loki with the opportunity to change by: acknowledging Loki’s strengths, giving Loki the chance to use his strengths in productive ways, praising Loki when he does well, listening to Loki, believing in Loki, calling out Loki, and accepting Loki as he is, with all his history, without judgement. Mobius does not try to force change like Thor or Odin. Rather, he creates an environment in which change could happen naturally. This kindness and, indeed, what becomes unconditional love by the end of S1E4, allows Loki to embrace his authentic queerness with self-love and use his feminine powers for altruism rather than masking them with self-hatred and masculine rage. 

FREEING LOKI 

In S1E1, Mobius is enthralled with Loki’s hijinks as the handsome, charming, devil-may-care, D.B. Cooper. This minor escapade in Loki’s life, which was likely only intended for laughs by the writer, reveals something interesting about Mobius: Loki’s mischievousness, his magic, his cunning, are all quite endearing to him when no real harm is being inflicted. That is, Loki, when not under duress, is someone to be admired when he’s being himself. We admire in people what we wish we had in ourselves, and this, at times, may lead to powerful attraction. 

Loki, for his part, does much the same for Mobius. The environment (the TVA) which allowed Loki to thrive is also the same environment that has abused and constrained Mobius. 

The heat that Ravonna presses upon Mobius, however, changes his tone with Loki himself. When Loki asks Mobius why he “[sticks] his neck out for [him]”, Mobius provides Loki with two options to choose from: “A. He sees a scared little boy shivering in the cold, or B. He will say whatever he needs to say to get the job done”. Option A, while insulting, has compassion layered beneath the barb. Loki, an expert at cloaking truth with meanness, sees through this and indirectly chooses what he believes to be true in the cafeteria scene: that Mobius feels sympathy for Loki’s painful childhood. The subtext of this acknowledgement is that the true means to the end is reversed: Mobius doesn’t need Loki to catch the Variant on the timelines. Mobius needs the Variant to free Loki from the timelines. The Variant is an excuse and another agent of poetic irony: when Sylvie unleashes the multiverse, she literally frees Loki of his predetermined narrative. 

The conceit of S1E1 is that Mobius intends to use Loki for the “good” of the Sacred Timeline. It is important to remember that characters, while not real, are meant to mirror human complexity. Multiple, seemingly conflicting things may be true concurrently. In S1E2, we see in Mobius’s conversations with Ravonna that he deeply believes in Loki’a capacity to be a wonderful person and wants him to have the opportunity to change. His enthusiasm for these things outshines his desire to catch Sylvie.  

And, because the Variant is Loki, because Sylvie is Loki, because, as she says, “[they] are the same”, Mobius’s own freeing of Loki, his unconditional love for him, cascades from Loki to Sylvie. Sylvie would not be free to live as she pleases if not for Mobius’s compassion for Loki in the first place. 

In S1E4, Loki reveals the TVA’s sham. Mobius’s sense of self becomes fragile alongside his sense of partnership with Loki. But because of our sociopolitical culture’s influence on capitalism, the creative voices of the Loki series self-censures what could be (what is) a queer romance. This self-censureship makes itself known in Mobius’s own self-censureship. His jealousy and heartbreak cannot be spoken directly. It must be spoken through the words of a woman, someone who presents as the opposite sex. Through a looping memory of a scornful Sif telling Loki, “You are alone and always will be”, Mobius makes known the nature of his feelings for him.  

BUT WHO WILL FREE MOBIUS? 

In the same cafeteria scene in S1E2, Loki asks Mobius if he’s ever ridden a jet ski. Mobius’s response is demure, saying him riding one would “cause a branch for sure”. The jet ski gives the audience another clue as to what Mobius seeks in life: something fun, thrilling, and reckless. Yet Mobius sets aside his desires for what he believes is for the good of the TVA, and thus humanity. This suppression and repression of authentic selfhood mirrors the queer experience of living within a heteronormative culture, especially one with religious doctrines that equate pleasure with sinfulness.  

Because Mobius extended his heart, his partnership, his love (symbolized by twin daggers hidden in his locker [a closet]; notably a male phallic symbol of which there are a pair [partners]) and was soundly rejected, Mobius retaliates with the loneliness he himself feels. This loneliness may be interpreted as an allegory for the loneliness of being closeted as opposed to the loneliness of being out but othered. 

Ultimately, Mobius’s love for Loki shifts from selfish desire to unconditional love when he chooses to help Loki save Sylvie. In S1E5, it is conspicuous that after delivering Sylvie safely to Loki’s side, Mobius’s partings words are, “Guess you got away again”, to which Loki replies, “I always do”, which echos the lover’s trope of “the one that got away”. 

[It drives me absolutely bananas that I can't find the specific gif I need when I literally saw it multiple times earlier this week but didn't need it THEN]

Owen’s acting choice is interesting here. He laughs, smiles, then looks down before looking up again, his eyes shifting from fondness to what feels like longing. Mobius extends his hand, a sensible choice for someone who believes his love is unrequited and is unsure of how Loki defines their relationship. Loki, appreciating what Mobius has done for him, closes the distance with an embrace and thanks Mobius for his friendship. 

In S2E1, upon Loki’s time-slipping into the war room, whatever apprehensions Mobius had about physical contact was wiped away by the collapse of the TVA and the memory of Loki’s hug. In this scene, it becomes clear to Mobius that Loki is panicking. He makes the executive decision to use his physical contact as a grounding force, relocates Loki to a quiet environment, asks after Sylvie with no bitterness in his voice, then prioritizes Loki’s physical well-being. Perhaps, in Mobius’s view, his love is unrequited, but there is nothing in place to stop him from expressing that love more freely while honoring Loki’s feelings for Sylvie. This regard, which may be construed as platonic, may also be viewed romantic, courtly love. 

The fight between Loki and Sylvie in S1E6 sets the stage for Mobius to receive Loki and become a refuge for heartbreak.  

S2E2 and S2E3 has Loki’s and Mobius’s temperaments when it comes to investigating flipped. In S1, Mobius was focused on the mission and often had to reign in Loki. In S2, Mobius is more casual, more willing to take his time and enjoy the sleuthing as it unfolds, while Loki administers pressure to stay focused. The question is why? 

In S2E2, Brad attacks Mobius’s sense of self. He points out how weird it is that Mobius is not at all curious about looking at his timeline and stresses that the TVA, and everything in it, isn’t real. Brad calls into question Mobius’s reason for staying. Knowing that the answer is Loki, we can surmise through the queer lens that Brad also corners Mobius into potentially outing himself in front of the object of his affections, someone he believes does not return his feelings, and whose knowledge of those feelings may threaten their friendship. This is a traumatic experience for queer people in the real world, and this extra layer of emotional conflict adds depth to Mobius’s violent response.  

Mobius influenced Loki in a myriad of ways. One that has not been discussed yet is an appreciation for focus and order. Loki, in turn, has cracked the door open for Mobius to explore pleasure. We can speculate that, in his own way, Mobius is testing what happiness could look like living a life between the TVA and the timelines. For him, this means cocktails at the theater, cracker jacks, and exploring the World’s Fair, all of which are pleasurable on their own but are even more so with Loki’s company. His queerness, once again, is quiet, mundane, but playful in its own right, and finally brave enough to explore. These scenes suggest that Mobius is indeed happy at the TVA and, as we see in the finale, this happiness is solely rooted in his relationship with Loki and the emotional intimacy they share together. 

Loki expresses concern for Mobius, noting that he has “never seen him like that before.” Mobius, interestingly, deflects every concern by absurdly blaming Loki: “He got under your skin”, “I was following you!” The psychological undercurrent here is that Loki is the reason why Brad got under Mobius skin. Loki is the person that Mobius will follow.  

Loki takes Mobius’s distress in stride, responding in a way the Mobius normally would. However, Brad’s question piques his interest, and his own care for Mobius prompts him to gently challenge Mobius’s lack of interest in his own timeline. Mobius’s reason for avoidance is, “What if it’s something good?” 

In S2E5, it’s interesting that “good” in this narrative is defined as a heteronormative fantasy of a house, two kids, and (possibly) a puppy and a snake. The “good” in Mobius’s original timeline, however, is imperfect. There is a partner that is missing (partners being a recurring theme in the series, particularly in S2E3), pronounced gone not once but twice. The entire scene between Don and Loki has been discussed at length by many, so there’s no need to reiterate it here. However, let’s bring our attention to Mobius’s avoidance of this “good” because this avoidance resonates with another queer experience. 

The TVA, for Mobius, is the place where he studied, saved, and developed a close relationship with Loki. The fear of the “something good” is the fear of being confronted with something Mobius “should” want more than the TVA, and therefore “should” want more Loki. The fear is wanting something (or feeling pressured to want something) other than a queer relationship with no children. The question of “choice” is impacted by what is considered the “norm”. 

S2E5 very pointedly focuses on the concern of choice, especially Mobius’s choice, in the bar scene between Loki and Sylvie. “Mobius should get a choice now, no?” At this point, Loki’s regard for Mobius has finally caught up with the romantic nature of Mobius’s feelings for him. And Loki, living his own queer experience, is also afraid of his true desires like Mobius. In being part of the intersectional queer community, the psychological need to guard against disappointment is high and commonplace. Desires are easily disappointed by the expectations of oppressive social mores. This survival tactic manifests itself with our hope and heartbreak with mainstream media, Loki the series being among them. 

But Sylvie, the harbinger of true and absolute freedom, takes on the role of supportive ex and challenges Loki to answer Mobius’s question in S1E1: “What do you want?”  

In this, Mobius and Loki’s individual relationships with the TVA are identical. It was never about where (the TVA), when (time works differently at the TVA), or why (the timelines). It was about who. It was about each other. The TVA represents a liminal space which became home by virtue of the people who brought love into it. The TVA is code for Loki and Mobius when each speaks of it. 

Again, the artists behind the media must self-censure. In this, Loki also self-censures while giving the truth. “I don’t want to be alone. I want my friends back.” It cannot be denied that Mobius is Loki’s first truest and closest friend. “I don’t want to be alone. I want Mobius back.” Sylvie appreciates and validates this desire, but also points out that showing the TVA is something that cannot be unseen. The implication of this response suggests that Sylvie believes that Loki’s friends will feel compelled to join the TVA out of moral pressure. She reiterates the true lives that are being lived, and Loki, loving his friends, loving Mobius, elects to not take that away from them. “You are just fine without the TVA.” 

Yet, Loki must choose an act of profound selfless love to save everyone. In doing so, he saves and frees Mobius in the way Mobius saved and freed him. The tragedy and, once again, poetic irony is that they both would have chosen each other. In giving everyone freedom, the true freedom of Loki and Mobius is sacrificed. This double-standard reflects in our reality between those who identify as cis and heterosexual and those who do not. 

When Mobius looks at his timeline in S2E6, he does so for one reason: that timeline survived because of Loki’s sacrifice. He must honor that sacrifice and see what Loki protected. Mobius appreciates what he finds, but he doesn’t belong there. It is not what he ultimately longs for. And there must be worry, shame, in recognizing he would prefer to give up the house and two children if a life with Loki were a viable choice. 

We all experience loss in our lives. Loss without a goodbye is also commonplace but is another pain that is more acute within the intersectional queer community. I speak of missed opportunities for happiness due to external forces. I speak of loss of self. I speak of loss of friends and family and home. I speak of death, losing a loved one without a goodbye, because same-sex lovers are not considered next of kin, an impossibility without marriage. Marriage echoes back to Don, who has no spouse, and Mobius, who has no partner. 

[inkwolvesandcoffee]

Ghost Bookshop Romance Headcanons

CoD ML

📖 Ghost is secretly quite bookish, having found refuge in novels during his youth and now even as a grown man. He especially loves bakery and coffee shop romances, though he’d never admit this outright.

📖 No one asks what he’s reading when they see him sitting with his e-reader, more often than not smoking as well.

📖 Those who are brave enough to ask only get glared at in answer and walk away, tail tucked between their legs.

📖 When he’s on leave, back home in Manchester, he watches out for a particular girl he’s seen at Waterstones. Pops by there for hours on end, drinking coffee, smoking outside yet near the shop, all in the hope he’ll bump into you.

📖 Your face looks familiar to him, but he can’t remember where he’s seen it if ever he has. Nonetheless, it’s enchanting, a strange though pleasant (and thoroughly distracting) imprint on his memory.

📖 Unbeknownst to him, you’re secretly his favourite author. However, you barely have any photos out there, preferring the anonymity of your pen name. It doesn’t help you haven’t published in a while due to being grabbed tightly in the vicious maws of writer’s block. Henceforth, despite the loyal fanbase, there’s little talk about your works or you yourself.

📖 One day he catches you sitting in one of the chairs dotted around the store, reading. Finally, at long last, he has the chance to talk to you!

📖 Simon has a whole plan. First he’d ask you what you’re reading and your opinion on it thus far, gradually leading the conversation towards your recommendations and favourites. It’s essential to gain that info because there’s always plenty to say and discover about books. Then, he’d ask you for tea, show you he isn’t as scary as he looks.

📖 But, like out in the field, there can be unforeseen circumstances.

📖 He didn’t account for the goosebumps on your skin, the slight shiver that has you shaking despite your efforts to suppress it.

📖 “Trying to catch a cold?” Simon crouches down before you, takes off his heavy leather jacket and drapes it over your shoulders. It’s warm, infused with the scent of nicotine, black pepper, gun oil, gasoline, and black tea.

📖 For a moment you stare at him, gobsmacked. After all, you don’t meet someone in a skull balaclava at Waterstones on the daily. Nevertheless, after wrapping his jacket around you a little tighter and deciding he means no harm, you find your voice. “Not consciously. Guess I’m not particularly good at dressing for the weather.”

📖 “No, you’re not.” He chuckles at your expression, a mixture of shock and surprise. Much to his delight, Simon senses you’re not offended by his bluntness. “Fancy a cuppa? My treat.”

📖 “Only if you tell me your name.”

📖 “For now, call me Ghost.”

📖 “Cheshire. Pleased to meet you.”

📖 “Like the cat?”

📖 “Indeed.” The way you tilt your head, eyes bright with defiance and granting him a glimpse of the walls you’ve carefully constructed around yourself, sends electricity through his nerves. “Curiouser and curiouser.”

📖 Simon usually keeps people at a distance, even the taskforce, but he’ll gladly take on the challenge of getting closer. “Yeah.”

📖 As per his promise, he pays for the tea and a scone to share. He cuts it in half, giving you the thicker top part while he settles for the thinner bottom bit.

📖 He doesn’t know how, but as he watches you smear jam and only the tiniest bit of clotted cream on the pastry it hits him. Finally he recalls who you are, where he’s seen you before.

📖 “Cheshire,” he begins, wanting to breach the topic carefully. Still, it’s hard to not get distracted by how you’re innocently enjoying your scone, enough to unintentionally give him the opportunity to wipe the crumbs from the corner of your mouth. However, to restrain himself, Simon tucks his hands in his lap. “Have you by chance heard of (your pen name)?”

📖 He clocks how you stiffen. Bingo. “How do you know that name?”

📖 “I… I’m… I’m a fan. Inked Monsters is the first book of yours I read. I liked how you discussed the prejudice against age gap relations, lone wolves, and heavily tattooed people. Made me feel heard.”

📖 You can’t help but chuckle, amazed at this giant’s enthusiasm for your novels. “What’s so funny?”

📖 “Nothing, it’s just… you don’t strike me as the type to like my writing. I’m glad to hear it touched you, though.”

📖 “Well, I am. But yours is the only one in the genre I really like. I’m not a big fan of fairy tales or retellings, but yours,” he glances at his cup, comically small in his big hands, “I… I do… a lot.”

📖 “Glad to hear it.”

📖 “How’s it going with Sugar Hood and Flannel Wolf? Haven’t heard or seen anything about it for a while.”

📖 You snort because ‘for a while’ is a severe understatement considering it’s been three years. The fanbase exploded with supportive messages when you announced you were writing another modern fairytale. This time, it would be about a lumberjack grumpy werewolf and a young woman who runs a bakery after her grandma’s passed away.

📖 And there’s the key phrase.

📖 Would be.

📖 “I’m suffering from writer’s block, which also drives my publisher and agent up the bloody wall. They still earn enough thanks to me to not cancel my contract, but I don’t think I’ll be able to publish soon… if ever again.”

📖 The way you look down into your tea, head bowed low and eyes sad, breaks his heart. “How so?”

📖 “When a hobby turns into a profession, there’s the pressure to perform, to deliver. I used to write for fun, but now it feels like a chore and I feel nothing but guilt for not doing it. Doesn’t help I’m stuck on the plot.”

📖 “You need a rubber duck.”

📖 You look up at him, feeling like you lost the plot. “A rubber duck?”

📖 “Talk through your problems to a rubber duck and you’ll see the solution presents itself. This duck can also be… someone.”

📖 “Are you asking to be my rubber duck?”

📖 “Proofreader, at most. If you’d allow it.”

📖 “A second opinion wouldn’t hurt.” You smile to yourself and shake your head. “A ghost reader.”

📖 Little do you know that that is what gets him going. “Let’s make this a two-man project. You write, I read, and we get through this together. Fuck deadlines and to hell with the people pressuring you to write. This is our plan, our mission. Getting that book out.”

📖 You giggle, a sound he archives for later. “My God, you’re headstrong. It’s nice, though, to hear you speak as passionately about my works like I did once.”

📖 “Being stagnant is useless. It’s also definitely the way to get yourself killed out in the field.” Simon wishes he could kick himself in the face for his words. “Sorry, you can take the man out of the army, but not vice versa.”

📖 “That explains a lot, you being an army man.” You take a sip of tea and nibble on the scone. “Retired or on leave?”

📖 “On leave.”

📖 “Know when you’re deployed again?”

📖 “Not any time soon. Unless Price cooks something up again. No, I’ll be here for a while.” Mumbling under his breath, the words too low for you to make out, he adds, “Plenty time for me to help you.”

📖 “Pardon?”

📖 “Nothing. But,” he clears his throat, “if you don’t mind, would you sign one of my copies?”

📖 “Sure. You have it with you?”

📖 “No, so, uhm, could we meet here tomorrow for that?”

📖 “Are you asking to see me again?”

📖 “If we could have tea again, that’d be nice too.”

📖 “Maybe grab a bite in town instead?”

📖 He perks up. “That’s a yes?”

📖 “It’s bad protocol to go out with a fan, but,” your smile makes him melt, “how can I say no to an interesting man like you, Ghost?”

📖 You pop the last bit of the scone into your mouth. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Meet here?” He nods. “Thank you for the tea.”

📖 “Anytime.”

📖 Ngl, silly as it is considering you just met, he’s kinda disappointed you don’t give him a kiss on the cheek before you leave.

📖 Though he finds enough satisfaction in the fact you ate the piece of the scone he cut for you.

📖 Enough to carry him through the day.

📖 Afterwards, the two of you stay in regular contact. It’s not always about business and even if it is, the conversation always diverges. To what you’re reading, simple recipes for Simon to try and make (he’s a self-confessed terrible cook), easy stretching exercises for you to do in between writing sprints (he hasn’t had the courage yet to ask you to accompany him to the gym), or possible outings.

📖 Yes, outings.

📖 Because Simon loves driving around the country on his bike with you.

📖 What he’d love even more, though, is not having to book rooms or accommodations with two single beds rather than one king or queen size bed whenever you’re off on a multi-day trip.

📖 Occasionally you do buddy reads. You were the first to propose it and have since expanded your literary horizons together. If only because Simon makes a lot of notes. Honestly, it’s surprising he doesn’t have a literary degree what with how passionate he is about reading.

📖 One day, a few days before he’s off to the gods know where, your ghost reader gives you a book with a copy of his dog tag. Until then, you’ve only known him as Ghost.

📖 But now you finally know his name.

📖 Simon Riley.

📖 “What’s this?” You look from the necklace to him, uncomprehending why he’d gift you his dog tag.

📖 He keeps his eyes trained on you, taking you in as best he can lest this will be the last time he’ll see you. After all, there always remains the chance he won’t return. “In case I don’t come back. I don’t care if they’ll be unable to identify me. I’m a ghost, un fantasma according to a buddy in Mexico. But I want you to have something to remember me by.”

📖 “You’re very real to me.” His heart cracks at your outburst. ��How can you say that? You’re a person, Simon!”

📖 There’s no hesitation in the way he cups your cheeks and presses his lips against yours. You melt into his touch, the feel of his hands on your skin, feeling the smirk pressed against your lips when you clutch his shirt.

📖 “Your person, eh?” he asks when he breaks away, breathless and lightly panting. However, he has to stop himself here. Unlike in the field, there’s no time limit with you.

📖 Because despite the novel, he’s come to understand you’re in more than a business relationship.

📖 A relationship which takes time, shouldn’t be rushed.

📖 An opportunity for you both to show yourselves.

📖 For him to learn patience and self-restraint.

📖 For you to learn how to trust and rely on someone.

📖 And grow together.

📖 “Yes, so don’t you bloody dare claim otherwise ever again.” The way you poke his chest, full of conviction, melts his cold heart.

📖 “I’ll try to be a person around you, sweetheart.”

📖 If only because you care.

📖 And he can’t live without your stories.

📖 Especially not when you tell them yourself.

Btw, I might actually write Sugar Hood & Flannel Wolf because I’m going nigh on feral thinking about werewolf!Price. I mean, c’mon, that man screams wolf vibes (aside from the massive daddy… I mean teddy! Teddy vibes).

[tripleyeeet]

DELIVERANCE, DELIVER ME (13)

SUMMARY: You and the party finally discover what Ketheric (and company) are up to.

PAIRING: Astarion & Female Reader

WORD COUNT: 3,770

WARNINGS: Spoilers for Act 2, so much angst (I'm sorry), canon typical violence, (sort of) major character death.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'd like to apologize for posting this chapter and then taking two weeks off. I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry.

CHAPTER LIST / MASTERLIST / NEXT CHAPTER

-

It’s an uphill battle for a while. As the minutes turn to hours and the hours quickly become what ends up being a day and a half of solid movement, you finally find yourself deep within the belly of the Illithid colony.

Gripping tightly onto the blade that resides in your hand, you can feel the membrane floor beneath your tired feet squelch as you creep further in, threatening to trip you with the way it gives each time you step to follow Wyll. 

Directly in front of you, you watch as he instructs both Lae’zel and Gale to keep a close watch from behind while the rest of you continue exploring. “We have to be getting close by now,” he grumbles. Then, he motions you and Karlach to move ahead, making you sigh.

You’re a bit scared to admit it but you’re almost too exhausted to continue. After countless battles won against various foes, you’re at the point of barely being able to see straight. Against the dimness of your surroundings, your eyes feel heavier with each passing step, threatening to close as you walk through the tissued door ahead, hearing Karlach hum.

“It’s all clear,” she says, lowering her axe. As she does, you drop your knife and raise a hand to rub your eye, emitting a low yawn just as some devourers rush across your half-obscured vision, shifting your attention to watch a grouping of them scuffle around your feet. 

“You know what? They’re honestly kind of cute, don’t you think?”

You blink at Karlach who’s ogling at one of the stragglers, lowering her body slightly downwards to give the brain a good pet before it squeaks in response and dashes away. 

“You think a brain with legs is cute?” 

Now at your side, Shadowheart scowls at the same creature, shaking her head while the rest of the group merely looks around, surveying the area further.

Unsurprisingly, it looks like every other section you’ve found yourselves in. Covered head to two in bodily innards, thick strands of membrane hang from the walls, dangling wetly above your heads, making you cringe as the group continues to speak. 

“I mean, yeah, look at their little feet! You can’t tell me that’s not the most adorable thing you’ve seen all day!”

“I very well can.”

Next to Shadowheart, Gale smiles at Karlach. “They’re rather interesting specimens… in their own way. A bit easy on the eyes but I supposed I can understand the appeal.” 

Shadowheart rolls her eyes then, causing Lae’zel to snort before telling everyone to focus. “We mustn’t allow any distractions,” she says. "We must focus on Ketheric Thorm and his inevitable death.” 

“Possible inevitable death,” Astarion corrects with a smirk.

At that point, Wyll gives him a questionable look, prompting the rest of the group to follow his gaze, watching Astarion respond with a shrug. 

“What? He might be useful.” 

This time you snort, shaking your head as the group of you come up to another fleshy door, watching it tear open at your arrival to reveal another similar-looking room.

Upon entering, it becomes clear then that there's a long road ahead of you. Another lengthy journey of walking and fighting and whatever else it is you manage to do through the exhaustive stupors you’ve been experiencing. Almost immediately, just the thought alone makes you want to flop onto the ground, regardless of how disgusting it is. To curl up in a ball and have a good cry, realizing just how stressed you are. 

Having been in constant fight or flight, you can feel the mask of bravery you often wear begin to slip. The closer you get to where you know you’ll meet your hardest fight thus far, the less poised you become. You can tell Astarion notices this by the time you’ve found Mizora. As she and Wyll exchange a few choice words with one another, you can feel him watching you fade. Staring far too intently at the way you shove your gloved knuckles into the base of your eyes, emitting a quiet groan in response. 

It’s obvious then that he’s worried. His face shifts anxiously each time you so much as close your eyes after that, watching with caution as you drift alongside everyone else, your mind not all there. 

By the time you make it to the platform that’ll inevitably lead you to Ketheric, you feel his hand on your arm, loosely gripping the leather of your armour until you turn to face him, blinking through the haze. 

“You’re exhausted,” he points out. And even though it’s obvious you still shake your head in response, offering a tired smile as you continue to blink. 

“I’m fine.”

He looks at you angrily before turning to the others who are already busily coming up with a plan, chaotically bouncing off one another until Astarion clears his throat and motions toward you. 

“She can’t fight,” he says simply. “Not unless we rest.”

You open your mouth in annoyance only to close it over a yawn that pushes through, prompting Astarion’s face to transition into a smug expression as he huffs. 

“We don’t have time to rest,” Lae’zel says, causing both Wyll and Shadowheart to awkwardly glance at one another, realizing she’s right. 

It’s only a matter of time before things get worse. Considering how long you’ve spent wandering the halls of the colony, you know Ketheric’s already well onto the road of recovering from your last encounter. 

Thanks to his endless amounts of resources, he’s probably already up and ready to maim every single one of you without so much as batting an eye, and because of this, you merely shake your head and brush Astarion away, telling him you’re fine. That you just need a little water —maybe a health potion or two and you’ll be good as new. 

You can tell by the hurt expression that takes over his face that he doesn’t believe you. That your poorly produced lie has fallen on deaf ears, further spurring the confusion in his eyes as he watches you pull a flask out of your pack and begin to drink. Swallowing hard, you avoid his gaze then, moving to focus it on the area below.

Illuminating in a pale green light, the area calls to you —commanding you to descend as your tadpole violently wiggles behind your eye. 

Groaning through it, you raise a hand to your temple and tightly shut your eyes, hearing Astarion swear under his breath before the feeling quickly surpasses, leaving you fearful as you glance around the party, realizing they felt it too. 

“We must continue now before it’s too late,” Lae’zel says then. Through clenched teeth she clicks her tongue and moves towards the apparatus, turning to face the rest of the group once she’s directly in front of it. “Do you need healing?”

You almost shake your head, but before you can Astarion’s already grabbing your wrist and setting a potion into your open hand, glaring with narrowed eyes. “Take it,” he says, wrapping your fingers around the neck of the bottle. “And don’t argue —the last thing I want is to have you dying in my arms.” 

He mutters it low enough so that only you can hear, making you roll your eyes through a hidden grin, obeying his command. 

“Fine. But only because I love you.”

Unlike him, your words are loud enough for the rest of the team to hear, prompting Astarion to clear his throat and turn away when Karlach loudly gasps in response, causing a quick moment of uproar before Shadowheart shuts it down.

Glancing playfully at Astarion as you continue to sip the potion, you can tell he’s thankful for the subject change. Considering all the feelings between you are still a bit fresh, it’s obvious he’s nervous —cautious in the revealing of your private partnership. 

It doesn’t bother you in the slightest. In fact, you completely understand his reservations, knowing the severity of everything happening. With Ketheric and the Absolute and all the other issues that seem to cross your path each time you so much as blink, it’s probably best you keep your feelings a bit closer to your chest. To keep him safe in the confines of your yearning chest. 

Because of this, instead of teasing him like you’re tempted to do, you merely mouth out a silent sorry, love before brushing past to join Lae’zel on the platform, watching him hide a grin of his own as he and the others follow behind.

Once you’re all on and accounted for, Lae’zel then triggers the apparatus to begin its descent, causing your frame to roughly shift and stumble back, catching Astarion’s arm in the process.

“Falling all over again, are we?”

You give him a narrow-eyed look and peel your hand away, forcing back a smile of your own just as Wyll begins to formulate a plan. One that involves a lot of careful preparation, prompting everyone to listen as he discusses who should get up close versus attack from afar. 

“Gale and Astarion, keep your distance,” he begins, motioning to both of them. “Flank from the sides or above —whatever you like. Just keep yourselves hidden until I say otherwise.” 

Both of them nod in agreement as Wyll continues to speak, telling Lae’zel and Karlach to rush into the thick of things while the rest of you sit somewhere in the middle so that you can jump back and forth if need be. 

Overall, it’s a simple formation. One that you’ve used countless times over the last few weeks, making it easy to follow. And because of this, there’s an immediate wave of optimism that surrounds your senses once you step off the platform and move into Ketheric’s domain, sneaking through the membrane that shields you from his gaze.

Once there, all of you crowd towards the ground to watch him pace across an entirely different platform. Slightly above, you can hear him sigh and groan, his footsteps echoing until they’re suddenly stagnant and an unfamiliar voice begins to speak. 

“You said it was under control.” 

The voice is calm —low and calculated. Narrowing your eyes, you slide around the structure that hides you, taking a few hurried steps towards another so that you can see the voice’s face, noticing there are others. 

Two men and a woman join Ketheric in discussion. Beneath the woman, one of the others sits crouched and helpless, eyes desperately shutting as she sits on his back, playing with the knife in her hands. Beside her, the other man talks to Ketheric as if he’s above him, speaking of their failed plan —of you and the rest of your party and how Ketheric’s new plan was to lead you down here. 

Upon hearing this, you glance at Wyll who’s clenching his jaw and moving forward, prompting Karlach to pull him right back with a shake of her head. At that point, you remember then that the man practically folded into the ground is unfortunately his father, Ulder. A man he hasn’t seen for quite some time thanks to Mizora and his inevitable banishment. Realizing this, you frown but look back over, watching Ketheric’s fist fly into the air just as the woman’s blade stops at his neck, prompting everyone to stand down despite the tension. 

After that, you can hear a fit of laughter push through the woman’s voice. As she repeats the word again almost manically, pulling her knife away from Ketheric’s throat, she then talks of Baldur’s Grave. How Ketheric must lead some sort of murder march to it.  

It’s a strange sentence. The kind that has you narrowing your eyes, trying your best to focus on the conversation further in order to understand her words as they continue their back and forth, speaking of a weapon before informing Ketheric of their dwindling patience. 

“Orin and I can wait for you no longer,” the dark-haired man says. “The plan proceeds —we’re going to the city, and we expect you to follow— army and weapon in tow.”

None of you are entirely sure what he means. At least, not until he’s moving towards the edge of the platform, raising his hand to reveal a gleaming stone as he calls the edict of Bane. At which point, you share a worried look with Astarion. Both of your throats swallowing hard as the woman then calls for the lash of Bhaal, triggering an eruption beneath you. 

Gripping onto the structure that resides in front of you, you feel the ground begin to shake. At first, it’s rough, tossing you around a bit but quickly it settles once the presence of a tentacle rips through the water, crashing just a few feet away. 

As it happens, your breath catches in your throat. Failing to exit, it sits tight against your vocal cords like an enemy's hand, threatening to suffocate you as a large brain begins to ascend amongst the waves, pulsating disgustingly. 

Cringing at the sight, you take note of Ketheric as he joins the duo, calling forth the testament of Myrkul, triggering a different voice inside your head. 

It’s the same voice you’ve been hearing throughout your journey. The voice that initially saved you through the wreckage. The one that’s been entering your dreams unannounced and feeding your information. As your tadpole twitches enthusiastically, you can hear it loud and clear, informing you that the creature that continues to rise through the air is in fact an elder brain. A creature so powerful and cruel that, upon discovery, you visibly shudder at the thought of what it’s capable of. 

Well, this obviously wasn’t what I expected.

Without hesitation, Astarion’s voice clears away the rest of your thoughts, pulling you back to look at him jerk his head towards the enemy, noticing the woman grip Ulder’s head, granting the elder brain’s tentacle enough access to shove a tadpole in his eye.

As it happens, you cringe at the sight, remembering your own experience as the two men continue to discuss the details of their shared plot. About how Ketheric’s meant to attack the city so that the other man, the supposed hero, can save it.

It’s a simple plot. One that you know will be convincing enough considering the state everyone’s in. Based solely on your experiences throughout your travels, it’s obvious that everyone can feel it coming. The shift they’ve been weaving behind closed doors. 

Wherever you’ve found yourselves the tensions have felt higher than they need to be. Difficult to navigate thanks to the wariness of the Absolute and its ever-growing presence. Normally, people refuse to trust you on instinct but lately, they’ve been borderline hostile, attacking you without much reason —forcing you to fight when all you want is peace.

It’s why, by the end of the discussion after everyone but Ketheric seemingly disappears into thin air, the breath you were previously holding stumbles out like a gasp. Forcing you further down towards the ground, you run a hand down your face as it happens, realizing then just how big this has become. How, despite knowing that the Absolute was already dangerous, the last thing you expected was a shared plot between the harbingers of death and chaos itself.

Suddenly breathing hard, you discard the act of hiding to rush over to Wyll, placing a hand on his shoulder for support, watching him scowl at Ketheric who finally clues into your presence.

“There you are.”

Like all the other times you’ve spoken to him, you notice the eerie amount of calm that radiates through his voice. As if he already knows how this will end. Annoyingly, it manages to send a shiver down your spine as he begins to clue you in on everything you’ve missed. About his God and their deal —about Gortash and Orin and their shared plot to grow and take over the Absolute all in exchange for his daughter’s life. 

In the moment, it’s a lot to take in. The idea that these Gods have essentially been working together. But quickly you snap out of the shock, forcing yourself to listen to his threats —to hear him talk of how he’ll kill you and then raise you as his undead servants.

As soon as he finishes there’s a moment of silence before Lae’zel attempts to take the first swing. With her longsword, she leaps and strikes the edge of Ketheric’s abdomen, angrily scraping away the armour with a hearty scream that triggers the rest of you to move. Seemingly all at once, you all then scatter into position, watching Gale and Astarion begin to strike the undead soldiers that rise from the earth on opposite ends while you and Shadowheart move towards the middle, using magic to do the same. 

“It’s no use, True Soul,” Ketheric taunts then, dodging Karlach’s swinging axe with a snort before he swings his sword right back, catching her in the arm. 

As she cries out in pain, Wyll slices through an undead’s skull before turning his attention to the injured tiefling, immediately rushing to her aid.

After that, all of you fall into the same rhythm. When one of you is struck there’s an instant urgency that takes place, causing whoever’s closest to help the other before you relocate and reset. 

Because of this, it takes a while to weaken Ketheric’s defences. To strike him down hard enough so that his power begins to dwindle. So much so that by the time you’ve regained your focus after helping Wyll up a second time, you finally notice the reason you were sent to the mausoleum in the first place.

Struggling against conjured shackles, Aylin, the woman you met deep within Shar’s domain —the one who attempted to help the first time you fought Ketheric— now stands, calling your attention, screaming for you to release her so that she can help. 

Without even thinking you nod your head and rush to her aid, narrowly avoiding an arrow that whizzes by your face along the way. Panting through the exhaustion, you move as quickly as possible, forcing your body to climb up a ladder of flesh, ignoring the ooze that slips through your fingers. 

Once upright, you continue moving towards her, watching her struggle against the bonds through gritted teeth, begging you to help. 

Drawing your sword you begin to hack at the magic upon her request, groaning with each strike until you can see it cracking under the pressure. Breaking down bit by bit until—

You see the blade before you feel it. The way it angles down from your left shoulder into the air in front of you. Narrowing your eyes, it takes a moment, but not long after you notice the blood, you finally feel the shooting pain of your injury. How it spreads like wildfire throughout your torso, threatening to stop your lungs.

Shakily, you crane your neck to see the undead soldier loom carelessly above you. Somehow its hand is still locked tightly on the handle of the blade as you begin your descent to the ground, gasping for air just as Aylin breaks free and immediately kills it, saying something you don’t quite hear as it happens. 

Despite not being able to make out her exact words you can tell they’re angry. Loud and irritated as she motions toward your body, making you groan. Making you realize that despite wanting more than anything to live, your eyes are slowly closing.

After that all you do is feel and hear, struggling to process. 

Because without your eyesight, it’s as if everything else has been sorely amplified. Within your chest, the only thing you can feel is the blooming of your blood coating you in a heavy ache. The way it warms your skin beneath the already-heated leather of your clothes. As you lay there covered in it, you feel it bubble up your throat, obstructing every lick of air that fights towards the surface, causing you to gag. To fearfully reach for your throat as your ears begin to ring, reminding you it’s time. 

You can’t fight it anymore. 

As much as you want to, the injury is too severe to remedy with the lack of resources you and your party have. Despite wanting to live, even when you feel those familiar hands pull you into a tight embrace, clutching your face with those cooling hands, you know that you're done. That your time here has finished and there’s nothing more you can do about it except hope that it meant something.

Feeling your body shake against the one that holds you, you hear a garbled sound of despair. A sob so visceral it only serves to further rip right through your chest, causing a whimper to sound through the stream of blood that coats your lips. 

I thought I fucking told you not to die!

The moment you hear Astarion’s voice inside your head you’re already sobbing. Between each gasp, the pain of his presence immediately pulls you from your last few moments of peace. Forcing you to realize that you’ve let him down. That like all the others in his life, you’ve abandoned him. 

Why can’t you listen?

You can hear the anger in his voice as he begs you to stay. To fight for survival —to fight for him. To stay so that he doesn’t have to be alone again as he reaches for your hand, taking it tightly in his own. 

You try your best to hold it back. Faintly, your fingers twitch but ultimately fail to hold any weight; much like your mind that refuses to let you speak back to him. To tell him that he’s going to be fine. That the others will help him. That you won’t just be fine but that you’ll be okay too. 

Now crying with you, you hear him yell through the ringing again. A piercing sound of syllables that echo in your skull as you attempt to open your eyes. 

Like the soldier from before, he’s looming above you, only covered in tears and blood, pressing his lips together to hold back the quivering mess he’s become when Shadowheart finally makes it to his side, saying something about you. About letting you go but Astarion refuses to oblige, tightening the hold he has on your frame until Shadowheart’s fully yelling his face and tugging at his clothes, forcing him to let go just as your eyes begin to shut again, feeling her hands turn you to your side to rip the knife from your flesh. 

-

@poohxlove @gaiasmight @sassy-stupid @novarex @v-gremlin @sapphiccloud @lipstickghoulie @kuroitsukyo@jjfchk@idiotsatan@bluestuesday@bloopthebat@art-by-greenie@heneralmoon@sukunababe@dreamingaboutyousworld@ranfithegood@haniscrying@liadamerondjarin@the-lake-is-calling@marina-and-the-memes@rookieoftheyear@zraloci-cpr@kaetmo@snickerdoodle-daydream@wowowwild@d1anna@raswiet@conniesbbymama@venus-wrts@demonicthorns@kihten@deadglamsheep@sanscas@spammypasta@leighsartworks216@rose-gold-blue@p1ssmagg0t@hellish-writes@ghostinvenus@otayz@sexysquatch@sleepyeclair@colorful-anxieties@alina-exe@ilana-the-lasagna@lillifer@girlwiththepapatattoo@y2cade@acelin-ginsberg@pinkuranium@catrad0rable@scarletrosesposts@qwnamidala@itsrosebabe@bunnyperi@queenofcarrotflowers-s@tatumadams20@spkyxszn@chlort@f3v3rs@awkwardwookie@joy-the-reader@warm-milk-with-honey-blog@vertigocrime@iyis@wildpiper@pebblethestone@tillywasneverhere@bex-03@kaetmo@revemiya@staticspouse@itzagothamcitysiren@djarinsmixtape@when-the-night-came@epicy0n@bababahannah@sleepyred1703@lotus-99@lofcompass@r4d10h34d5@vampninjaz@itsmekalou@offbrandhand@yikes-buddy@konenichi@rainonarden@oceanbluesixeyes@bodtyworship@maydayitsjay@greasyslimebucket@yeeteth-the-raven@fantasyfairysworld@allexthakatt@flowersaretheshit@morglyne@thespectacularspaceace@cephiss0@use-your-telescope@furblrwurblr@kloverfield@angelofthorr@writervaul-t@starved-kitten@minixluvr@crowley--aziraphale@sapphicwren@alionera-blog@jennithejester@dezedrol@thisisew@saladalpaca@applepiewithbacon@httpbiohazard@aurasyn@nerdoodles@kingpinthedevil@itzkawaiix@domainoflostsouls@silverskylan@uminootome@helpidkwhatimdoingwrong@deadlyinfernos@blackbirdswhispers@sarahskywalker-amadala@writingmysanity@f3v3rs@jayjones03@quietlyebbie@optimisticprime3@eyes-for-daze@sunnytalia3@megoshh@maddiedott@cappsikle@mostbeautifulnightmare@lynnlovesloki@simpytheshrimpy69@astarion-archive@smaranshakthi@autistic-deer@shadowfeart@freckled-petals@candied-lavender@hp-art-studio@ghouligan@satelliteapotheosis@waywardwitch-hel@pandimoostuff@mythoughtsofinsanity@ilovelovelylove@oneandonlyizabelle

TAGLIST NOW CLOSED!

[lunar-years]

I LOVE thinking about royjamiekeeley's future home together and how all three of their styles would come together to create a living space that is so very them :)

I think it's especially important to Jamie because he's never really had a space of his own as an adult that he's actually considered home before. Like, he bought his place in Manchester when he was just coming into having actual money--and a lot of it--for the first time, and he was spending it not just on himself but also on updates and renovations to Mummy's place and eventually on a home for his dad as well. So for himself he bought his car and a house but then didn't quite know what to do with the rest of it. As a result, for years his home there is just sort of an un-curated mix of the random shit he bought on a whim because he suddenly had the money to do so. Like the painting he walks past everyday and thinks "do I actually like that?" and the foosball table and the garish furniture he picked out because it looked dead cool in the showroom but really doesn't go together at all in his house.

Then when he moved to Richmond, he didn't really want to be there anyway, did he, so it was easier to just hire someone to furnish it for him. And he was on the outs with mummy, so even having family photos up made him feel weird and sad, and there were a couple of things he slowly acquired (like his balloon dog and his lavish headboard), mostly when shopping with Keeley, that he does love, but the house itself is sleek and modern and sterile, and it never really feels quite like his. By the time he comes to think of Richmond as home, he's spending most of his time at Keeley's or Roy's anyway, so he never bothers to make it more his own.

Then they all buy a house together, and Jamie is thrilled but also so overwhelmed, because he's never felt like he had such free reign before in a space since he was hanging up those posters in his childhood bedroom. Thus: his grand idea, presented with great enthusiasm and pride, of framing up his and Roy's England kits side by side in the living room, to which Keeley says absolutely fucking not. But then Keeley brings in her pink chandelier and her neon wall art from the moving van and Roy says absolutely fucking not, and Roy tries to hog all the shelves in the bookcase for his mystery/thriller paperbacks, to which Jamie and Keeley are both like, absolutely fucking not!! Eventually the living room (where they spend most of their time) becomes the perfect mashup of all of them. The furniture is neutral enough for Roy, but accessorized with a ton of throw pillows courtesy of Keeley, and one of Jamie's transformers is next to Roy's books and Keeley's knick-knacks on the shelves, and they've got a gallery wall with photos and framed bits and pieces of all of them.

They have a two-floor home but the main bedroom is of course on the first floor (Roy can't do stairs), and a giant ensuite with a spa tub for Keeley (and for Roy when his knee is acting up), and a shower big enough so that Jamie rarely has to shower alone, if he doesn't want to. Then there's Roy's office and a media room for all of Jamie's gaming consoles and for the boys to watch match tapes that's filled up with all of their medals/trophies/awards. Keeley rarely goes in there, but when she wins like, Boss Ass Bitch of the Year or something (a real award TO ME), Roy and Jamie insist it goes up right alongside their premier league medals, and ceremoniously place it there in a way that has Keeley giggling kicking her feet in love with them <3

Roy's more set in his ways from years of living on his own, so Jamie and Keeley distract him as they decorate the rest of the house by giving him full control of the kitchen, because he's the one who's going to be using it most often, anyway. He gets all the appliances and everything configured, top-grade, with Simon's helpful input. And most importantly, he also makes sure there's a big island he can work at with stools for Keeley and Jamie to sit in and sip their wine prettily or "help" him by aimlessly chopping vegetables as he goes about all the hard work of actually cooking their meals. This is secretly his favorite part of being in the kitchen. He makes sure the stools are very comfortable for them. Also, the fridge is always covered in Phoebe's report cards and drawings and homemade cards :)

Then the upstairs is used for the guest bedrooms for when any of their parents or friends come to stay, plus Phoebe's bedroom/bathroom and Keeley & Jamie's overflow closet and Keeley's home office (she likes to be a floor above to help drown out the noise and help her stay focused when Roy and Jamie are home and screaming at the television about sports on the main floor, or else shagging each other senseless in their bedroom while Keeley still has emails to attend to, thank you.)

And there's a half pitch in the backyard because of course there is, when you're that rich you've got to have a least one thing that lavish. And a garden that Roy really takes to tending, surprisingly, and loungers for Keeley and Jamie to suntan as Roy hovers over them menacingly with a bottle of sun cream.

Ultimately it's theirs and it's home and it's wonderful and even though they all keep a hold of their former houses for financial and media purposes, they rarely ever go back to them. ❤️

[theship-thewalrus]

Hello!

Can you do an oberyn martell x reader x ellaria

One who leads a rebelion and its like lagertha from vikings , she asks dorne for shelter for a little break before going to travel again , and his daughters love her ( because who doesnt love a hot femenist leader of men ) but she often rejects them because she wants to rule the word

Hi Anon!! Love me some strong willed reader! I hope I did your request justice <3

oberyn martell x gender neutral! reader x ellaria sand

pretty much the ask

word count: 1358 words reading time: about 6 minutes warnings: none

For the past number of weeks, you have been staying in Dorne, hiding away from those who would love to see your head on a pike. Those, who would bring their children to watch your head roll. Laugh and cheer as you get marched through the streets. Yet here you were almost respected. You had been given refugee and they did not expect anything in return. Simply offering a safe place to lay low and have your men rest.

During your time here you found it to be a nice place. Though the overwhelming warmth caused you some discomfort in the beginning. But the maids were quick to give you new clothes, something that is yellow and airy. You looked like a resident of Drone, as though you had been born and raised her. It was not often you were gifted things and usually, they came with a price. It was something you learned living as a common person in Westeros. Thus, when you questioned them about the clothes, why they were given, and who had given them. They simply smiled and told you the various princesses had given them to you.

It caused you to seek the princesses out, to thank them for their gift. Yet, the meeting seemed to propel a friendship with the young girls. They looked up to you and became your shadow, following you around the palace, and helping you with whatever you needed. You found it incredibly sweet, how they looked at you with start eyes. How they asked you about the world, to help them train and watch them work. They desired to show off to you in a sense, to impress you and one-up another.

Yet this also caused two other people to take note of you. Oberyn and Ellaria, the father and mother/stepmother, of the various girls who have taken a liking to you. When you first arrived the pair thought you were stunning, even going as far as telling you that. At the same time drinking you in, the hunger in their eyes was clear. Yet you did not act on their advances. Not that time or the time after or the time after.

It was not that they were not beautiful and intriguing. But simply because it would distract you from your goal. You have devoted your life to freeing Westeros and its people. You can not abandon it all for two people, no matter how much you want to. They knew that to an extent. They understood and admired your devotion, but it did not stop their desire. Something that only increased when Oberyn saw how close you were with his children. How they shadowed you and how you adored them. Helping them with whatever they needed and when they weren't looking you would smile softly. His children meant the world to him and seeing you so close to them warmed his heart.

Sitting in the sun out in the water gardens you took in the warmth. Watching the young girls chase each other around and gossip, ensuring they do not get hurt when they do it. There was a small place in your heart for those girls, you would be devastated to hear they are hurt. Yet there was other watching you, how the yellow clothing you wore complimented you so well. How you looked so relaxed and content in their home.

Ellaria was the first to reach you, the woman sat beside you. Her eyes were full of hunger as her fingers trailed over your body. "You look stunning in the light my love," her words were soft as she spoke. However, you paid no mind to her, only offering a simple look in her direction. A Grin formed on your own face. You had to admit she was stunning, what she wore only added to her beauty. The different dresses and jewels looked lovely on her. But you were firm on not partaking in anything with the pair. No matter how much you wanted to.

"I know," you say simply, eyes drifting to hers. Where there was Ellaria, Oberyn was never far away. The pair always seemed to be together. Something you were almost jealous of, how they had each other. Not even the gods could rip the pair away, they were utterly devoted to one another. They offer you such a life with them, of devotion and love. Yet you push it away, your life was meant for bigger and better things. "I assume you are not here to enjoy the sun like myself." You ask eyes drifting back to the water and the girls. Ellaria smiled slightly, nearing ever closer to you "You are a clever thing, my love. Always a step ahead." The woman praised you, her voice soft and full of lust as you allow her hands to roam your body. You know what she wanted from you, a kiss, a word of your love for her. But nothing could pull such things from you, not until you had won at the least.

"Ellaria, my sun, leave them be." Oberyn blocks the sun from you slightly, his frame cast a shadow over you. Something that made pulled a frown from you. You knew the further you travelled after this, the colder it got. Thus, you had hoped to sit in the sun for as long as possible while you were here. It was only a matter of days before you left, returning to life on the road. Ellaria pouted slightly but moved away from you slightly, giving you some space. Oberyn was quick to move over to Ellaria's side and sit with her. The pair were quick to kiss, their hands roaming the other like they had not seen each other for months. When in reality you were sure it was only a matter of minutes.

"Is there a reason you are both here?" Your question, eyes trained forward as you spoke. The pair looked at you before each other, mirroring smiles appearing on their faces. Their pair knew what they wanted, and they would do all in their power to get it. Because they longed for your touch, for your hard exterior to melt and allow yourself to be worshipped by them. "Can we not enjoy the sun also?" Oberyn asks in an almost challenging way, as though he dared you to deny him. Your head lulled to the side to see them, the pair were already looking at you. "But that is not why you are here. We all know that,"

You were not one to beat around the bush, you liked to get to the point of things. It was useless to decorate your words, things needed to be down and quickly. But the pair in front of you often hide their true intention in well-placed words. Something that annoyed you to no end at times. But it is also something you liked about them. "See, Oberyn. They are too smart for their own good." Ellaria hums, hands roaming over Oberyn as she hides her face in the crook of his neck. "Hmmm, then why do you think we are here?"

You are silent for a moment, as though you were pretending to think. But there was no need, it was clear as day as to why they were here. "If I had to guess, you are here to ask me something. Yet, I think we all know the answer." Your attention was on then now, no longer were you trying to soak in the sun. They had taken up all your attention with their touches and continuous questions. "Why deny us, my love?" Ellaria starts "Allow your heart to rule, not your mind." Oberyn finishes.

But you would hear no more of it, wordlessly getting up. You did not know how many times you must tell them the same thing. give them the same answer. It had begun to annoy you slightly, a nice day ruined by their lust. They knew you could not be with them, yet they persisted. The pair did not try and stop you, something you were thankful for.

[sylwanin-was-right]

Cameron making Spider a child character, let alone a Tarzan-esque "native on the inside" side-protagonist would make certain ppl so obsessed w him for such troubling reasons, to me 😭.

His character is the best foil to his violent military father bc he's the perfect character to project guilt and accomplishment onto. He's made too young and too helpless to blame yet just principled enough (loyal to fya Na'viyä way) to distract from his privilege as a human among the RDA. In the movie we saw how little it mattered that Spider had a specific place assimilated among the Na'vi, just that he wanted to be Na'vi and was assumingly tolerated by them by walking thru camp and being friends to Jake and Neytiri's kids. In The High Ground, Spider expressed to Neytiri an entitlement to be part of the family (and by extension Omaticaya Na'vi) despite not necessarily being invited to be Na'vi anywhere, as we dont see him go thru any rites of passage adjusted for his humanness and just introduced as someone with a fancy for Na'vi lifestyle (with the unfortunate, and also convenient case that he was the only kid born on Pandora).

Spider retains principle of being loyal to the Na'vi in very little parts of the movie, dressing, moving, and speaking like them, even emulating their skin markings with paint, and of course militantly protecting them when he could in the behinning and very end. Yet it takes this distance between scenes to make his sideplot seem relevant to anything and make his drastic straying frlm principles seem particularly justified, especially his fixation to kame his father despite his associations and actions against him and the Na'vi. As soon as his character and conflicts are introduced, he is made helpless to uphold his principles as a prisoner of war, teaching recoms intricate details of na'vi life and navigation, including speaking the language and the utility of tsaheylu, to preserve himself after a precedent scene of onscreen sacrifice (the brain interrogation torture). It seems easy for Spider to exchange his secrets for preservation and safety against the labcoats and to fufill his personal interest in knowing his father in his new form and this is strangely justified because.... Spider just had to be Quaritch's son, too? And its even easier for Spider to seem principled in his passivity by juxtaposing his simple plea to Quaritch's major damage and affect on years of slaughtering. A wooden "this is wrong" and "I'm sorry" gives certain audiences a sense of relief, a character to ease their guilt onto when a movie metaphorically calls them out too hard. "I'm not as bad as the other guy" when the guys are still in cahoots by the end.

In the comics, Spider is more on principle, but acts very entitled to be part of the Na'vi bc of bis friendship with Jake and Neytiri's kids and his appeal to the Na'vi, despite not having gone thru any rites of passage, not given any special role among the people, and not being entirely accepted. I really didnt like how Spider basically told Neytiri he was part of the family whether she liked it or not and how often Neytiri was set up to look as if she was irrational against Spider for not immediately accepting him and being a liability to their navigation. Its the sort of entitlement privileged ppl have when they think they deserve a place among another group because they oversimplify what being part of that group means in order to enjoy it more readily.

Spider is not played by the most expressive actor nor written in the comics as a likable character. He's easily distrustful to me despite his deliberate age and racial/ethnic position obscuring his role in the films and thus is not interesting to me. But I knew he'd get ppl's attention so much by having interesting commentary about other topics (which rlly should have been introduced in another film rather than jampacked into AWOW lol) obfuscated by his privilege. Its disappointing and gets me a little resentful 💀.

[alyssawolf2410]

Chapter 2 - New Friends

We stop in front of. You guessed it  Pigsy's  Noodles! "This is my job! And I personally know the boss. So I bet I can get you a job here!" He spoke with so much enthusiasm and a bright smile. Oh, this poor  sweet  summer child. You really should not trust strangers this much. 

Fousces. You Need To Keep Your "Act" Up.

Right! "Oh please, dear! This is way too much. We literally just met! I don't even know your name." Mk looks like  he is staring through me. He probably just realized he dragged a stranger he didn't eve n. I n ever even got my name. He opens his mouth like he  is going to  say something but is interrupted. "MK!" We both turn to the doorway of the restaurant. And see  you  guessed it  Pigsy . Pigsy looks pretty much the same. He has his white chef outfit. It is a pink pig with fuzzy arms and a chin.

He looks at Mk and practically charges at him. "Where have you been?!" Pigsy screams in Mk's face. But Mk  looks at him blankly.  "You  were supposed to go get my delayed shipment! So I could continue making noodles for my customers! But for you taking so  long  I had to close early!"  Pigsy wacks him with his spoon.  "Oh. I knew I was forgetting something." He rubs his head.

"You just need to walk down the street!! How were you gone for 5 hours!?" "Well, you see. I was going to the shipment. But you  won't believe what I saw! There was a bright beam! And no one else seems to see it!" Mk makes  the motions of the beam. Wait beam? I don't remember any beam. "So  pulling  a page from Monkey King! I decided to investigate it. I ran towards  but  it was starting to fade away. So  with  my quick thinking, I jumped on a bus."

Mk  makes  motions like he is parkouring over things. Then  throwing  himself in a "bus." "And I was so close to figuring out what it was! But by the time I got there, the beam was gone." MK looks defeated. "So I stayed on the bus to take me home. Where I helped my new friend." He shows me off  and I give a small wave. Pigsy seems to have finally noticed me. "Oh yeah. Before I  forget  she needs a  job,   so I  was wondering if you could hire her."  Pigsy stares at the both of us blankly for a moment. "WHAT?!"

~~~~

And now I'm just sitting here with a cup of tea, which I don't even like. So it's just sitting with me here. I look down at it and see my reflection for the first time. Hm. This is the new me now. I don't know how to feel about this. Um! Stsyem distract me!

Would You Like To Keep Your Old Name? Or Do You Want A New Name?

My old name? I mean it wasn't unique. It wasn't a bad name. But it was my name. I don't know. A new name would be fun. Also, I could get to pick my name. But-

Starting Random Name Gentoar...

Hey, Rude! I was still thinking! A hand waves in front of my face and I jerk away from it. I turn to the hand's wielder. And see Tang! He is wearing a long white shirt with a red vest over it. Dark blue pants and brown shoes. with of course his thick black glass. He sits next to me and places a brown tote bag beside him. 

"Are you okay? You have been staring at the tea for a long time. You didn't even hear me when I called you." I could feel my cheeks heat up. "Sorry about that. I get lost in my thoughts a lot." He pulls out a notebook and pen. He gives me a small hm. "Do you know where the cook is?" "Oh yeah, he's in the back with MK. So he might be a while." I point to the back door where they are talking now.

Now that I think about it. They have been reticent. I turn back to Tang. And he is eating a bowl of noodles. Where did he get that? "So what brings you here?" I decided to ask. "I know the cook personally. And I enjoy his cooking. So come here often. How do you know Mk?" He gives me a side glance. "I just met Mk at a bus stop. I have been struggling a bit so MK paid for me."

"As soon as he learned that. He dragged me here. And is trying to get me a job here thus why I am here." I look back down at my tea. That is starting to get cold now. Tang smiles fondly looking back to his noodles. "That's just MK for you. He is a really good person. I think you will get the job. Pigsy is not one to leave someone when they need him." I turn to him. "So do I. But back to you. What do you do for a living?" Tang places the noodles next to his notebook and takes a sip of his tea. Which once again where did he get that?! "I teach literature at a nearby college. Teach a bit of everything but mainly focus on mythology, history, tragedy, fairy tale, folklore, and Drama." He takes another sip. 

"I'm currently teaching "The Journey to the West." He picks up the bowl and starts to eat from it again. Bingo. "What do you think about it so far? I lean on my hand as I look at him. "Well, I won't lie I have been intrigued. It doesn't help there is so little on the Monkey King. Like his last where about. He just vanished." I could practically see the shine in his glass. " Ah. Sorry. The Monkey King is but a myth. So he might not be even real." Those same glasses cracked when he remembered I was still there.

"Your tone tells me you might believe he is real. You don't need to go all natural on me. If it helps I think he does exist." I snicker. "As my students call it I went teacher mode on you. But yes I do believe he exists and I have reason to believe he is on Flower Fruit Mountain. Especially since it is the hardest thing to find! And if you even do find it there are so many challenges before you even get to the actual mountain!" He slammed down his bowl on the counter and stood up. I jerk upwards from me not expecting it. Putting my hands up like I'm about to be arrested.

I sweat dropped. "You seem really passionate about it. Why don't you write your book on that?" I suggested. Tang seemed to snap out of his trance. He gave a nervous laugh before sitting down. "Acullaty now that you say that. it's not a bad idea." He looked deep down. He then started to write a bunch of stuff down at record speed. His glasses had a full shine to them. Then he slammed down his pen. "I got it!" He grabs my hands with a bright smile and stars in his eyes. "Thank you. I have been struggling for months. Trying to figure out what to write. But you gave me the best idea." 

"O-oh it's nothing. You would have probably figured it out yourself before I even suggested it." I gave a small nervous laugh. I knew Tang was obsessed with Monkey King. But lord I didn't know it was this deep. "Still! You probably speed up months of my thinking. By the way, my name is Tang." He sits back down and goes back to the noodles. " Nice to meet you, Tang! My name is-"

Kylie.

"Kylie!"

You Have Meant Tang.

Trust: 0/10

Love: 0/10

Friendship: 1/10

As he goes to take another bite of the noodles. A spoon comes flying at Tang and hits him square in the face. Making him fall off his chair and drop the bowl. I grab onto the noddle before it falls on the ground. Kind of impressed I was able to catch that. "Stop eating my noodles, you freeloader!" Pigsy yells at Tang pointing another spoon at him. What is it with them randomly getting items?!

"And you!" Pigsy points his spoon at me. "Y-Yes?" "Do you know how to cook noodles?!" "K-kind of! I know how to make decent broth but never homemade noodles before!" The noodles I have even made are instant noodles and only sometimes do I add stuff to it. "Have you worked as the cashier before?!" Pigsy continues to scream at me. "Yes, I'm very familiar with working as a cashier! As well as taking orders!" Is this an interview!? "Good, I expected you here tomorrow at 6 am to start your shift!"

You Have Met Pigsy.

Trust: 0/10

Love: 0/10

Friendship 0/10

"Yes sir!" I salute him. MK throws his arms around my neck like a hug. "See told you I would get you the job." He gave me a cheeky smile. "You indeed did. And I'm internally grateful. This gets rid of one of my problems." I patted his arms. "Well, I'm about to solve another! You can move in with me with you get back on your feet!" He lets go of me and shows me some keys which I could only assume were his home keys. I shake my head and hands no. "Oh! That's too much! I kind of have a place to stay at. Plus we again just met. We are practically still strangers!"

"Well, my name is Mk! I work at Pigsy Noodles. And you are my new roommate!" He says with the brightest smile as he offers me the keys. Despite how amazing this is for me. Can't help how unreal this situation is. No one in real life would be this nice unless they were trying to kill me. But then again this isn't real life anymore and I might as well make the most of it! "Name is Kylie and I guess I'm your new roommate." I take the keys

Previous

[iamfujoshiwe]

VegasPete Rambling

I usually only read Japanese Manga. I even filtered my search to strictly show only Japanese Manga. And out of nowhere I have this urge to try watching Live Action BL Drama I filtered them to Japanese too. But to be honest I'm not fond of Japanese BL Drama. Well maybe my taste is just different from others (I only watched a few of them so who knows). Sometimes the acting is weird. I guess a good comedy/gag in manga is just not translated well enough in live action.

Aaannndd in the middle of searching BL Drama I discovered the fckn "KINNPORSCHE THE SERIES". I saw them a few times on tumblr. Some gifs. Some fangirling posts. I was sceptic about Thai BL. I didn't even know Thai BL exist until now. But I decided to give it a try anyway. And boy do I fell hard. HARD!!! It altered the chemistry in my brain!! KPTS had aired two years ago and I just found it now???? Have I live in the cave all my life????

From ep 1 I immediately fell in love. The acting, the character's chemistry, and everything is so amazing. I didn't sense any awkward acting/dialogue I usually saw in Japanese BL Drama (No offense really, it was just me). I literally stopped reading all my followed BL/Non BL Manga and and even stopped reading the new ones too.

All the time my mind just screaming "WHAT A FINE MAN" everytime Porsche appeared. But for real Apo is soooooo good looking.

And when Kinn appeared I just got distracted by his chest. Sir, buttons exist for a reason you know. What grudge do you have with them? (Not that I mind of course). Mile is born to play Kinn.

Then I met VegasPete couple. Let me tell you, when I have obsesssion I really do obsess them to oblivion. Having tunnel vision about them. VegasPete takes the cake.

At first I have this thought: Every actor in KPTS is so good looking so why this vegas character is… not as good looking as them? (Yeah I want to kill my past self for that).

I have this funny feeling about thai actor's voice. Maybe because Thai language is a foreign language to me. I don't hear them often, as opposed to english and japanese (and my main language of course). That's one of the reason why I filtered my search to just Japanese BL Drama. But Vegas' voice OMG. I adore his voice so much. And Bible speaking english is just * CHEF'S KISS * I melted everytime I listen to his voice. BIBLE SPEAKING ENGLISH IS A GIFT TO HUMANITY!! AND THAT HUMANITY IS ME!!!

When VegasPete plot took off, my focus immediately shift to them (I am sorry Kinn and Porsche). I can't count how many times I rewatched their scenes.

I definitely have to include Pete's cry in Yok's bar (when he met vegas after he had ran away from safehouse) and swimming pool (after Vegas got shot). Such a raw emotion. 100 point for Build! I come to love him because his crying voice lol.

Vegas and Pete easily become my favorites. So naturally I have to search for their actor right? And thus began my search for Bible and Build…..

ONLY FOR MY HEART TO BE CRUSHED! MY SHIP HAD SUNK ALREADY!

Build's scandal on his old socmed post? His scandal with Poi? I don't really mind. But Build talking bad about Bible? Yeah my heart couldn't take it. It's in pieces (In a way I'm glad because when all the chaos took place I haven't entered the fandom yet so I never encounter their fan's toxicity). But I respect their decision to go their own way. I know it's not healthy for them to continue working together. So yeah I am sad but their mental health is more important.

Soooooo now I'm still deep in VegasPete swamp (with occasional breaking down when I remember BibleBuild). I choose to sink in VegasPete fanfictions on ao3. And woah there are soooo many amazing author there. Their fics are spectacular! I can't thank them enough for doing God's work creating those holy VegasPete fics.

Oh and anyway I read VegasPete novel too. But I don't like it…. their character are too different from the show. Honestly fanfictions are waaay better…. KinnPorsche novel too. One chapter and I was like nope, I couldn't bring myself to read further. End of story.

And that's why as of now I still can't read manga or watch any other BL Drama. Damn VegasPete! (Affectionate). My waiting list are Not Me The Series and Last Twilight. I hope I'll collect enough braincell soon so I can start watching them. There are so many BL and Non BL manga I haven't continue reading.

[arcielee]

Interview With a Writer

Time for another installment of my series Interview With a Writer with the talented, the wonderful @inthedayswhenlandswerefew. Thank you as always for your time and allowing this self-indulgent series to continue!

Dividers by @saradika 💜

Name: inthedayswhenlandswerefew

Story: Comet Donati

Paring: modern Aemond Targaryen x female!reader

Warnings: 18+ mature themes. Sex, drugs, boy bands. Be mindful of chapter warnings.

What inspired the plot for Comet Donati?

I think it will surprise absolutely no one when I say that Comet was born out of my love for One Direction. While I’m at work (I’m a high school teacher), I’ll often put on a Spotify playlist for me and the students to listen to. I like to change it up…for a few days we’ll listen to 80s rock, and then Beyoncé Radio, and then classical music, it’s always something different. At the very end of last school year in June, I got in the mood to revisit my love of One Direction. As I was listening to and falling in love with those songs all over again—History, No Control, Heart Attack, etc.—the idea of the HOTD characters being a boy band occurred to me, first as something ludicrous but then as a weird but potentially viable fic plot.

My long-time readers know that the first specific scene I envision is always one of the last scenes of a story, and while I was listening to that One Direction playlist one afternoon I saw the very end of Comet Donati: a girl on a farm looking out a kitchen window and watching Aemond return to her after a very fraught, magical, horrible, amazing summer touring with the band together. The very first sentence I wrote in my Word Doc was the last sentence of Chapter 10.

And thus, Comet arrived on Earth! :)

So the scene that inspired the rest of Comet Donati…

It was Aemond on that damn Gold Star motorcycle, which is another astronomy reference!

Are you always aware of how your stories will end? Or have you ever balked and changed something?

I always know the ending from the very start, and I’ve never changed one. Because I start writing with the end so clearly in mind, changing it would undermine a lot of the foreshadowing, themes, and character arcs that were present throughout the story, and would honestly feel totally disorienting to me. With that said, there are occasions when unexpected details pop up (ex. in Comet, Aemond clicking so well with Stargirl’s parents wasn’t something that I foresaw or really thought about before writing Chapter 9), but generally I have it all set it stone before the first chapter is ever posted.

Can you give us some insight on your interpretation of Aemond and Aegon?

Aegon and Aemond both have a lot of trauma (clearly), but they have adapted to survive it in completely different ways. Aemond is a brooding, perfectionist, desperately insecure person who lashes out like a wounded animal when he feels wronged. Aegon is the opposite. He directs his anxiety and self-loathing inwards harming only himself, and rarely shares it with anyone else (Stargirl of course is a massive exception).

While Aemond wants to be taken seriously, Aegon dives headfirst into his lackadaisical nature and exacerbates it, largely out of spite for Viserys and to a lesser extent Alicent and Otto. He is lazy, bombastic, rootless, chaotic, an unrepentant addict…and, in perhaps his greatest act of rebellion, someone who is genuinely affectionate and nonjudgmental. Aemond is fangs and claws and storms and wreckage; Aegon has this warm, contagious glow that distracts from his profound inner darkness.

Aemond is someone who always felt uncool, unloved, and unremarkable. At home he was mostly ignored by Viserys (despite Aemond’s attempts to bond with him). Alicent, while well-intentioned, was often distracted by her own marital unhappiness, and furthermore was emotionally closer to Helaena and Daeron than Aemond. At school, he didn’t make friends or get girls in the same effortless way that Aegon or Daeron did.

Like Aegon said in Chapter 3: “I had friends. He had grudges.” But when Aemond masterminded Comet and became an international popstar, he finally got the camaraderie and recognition he always craved, and for the first time in his life felt worthy of love. Losing all of that after the accident at the Budokan was psychologically devastating for him.

When he meets Stargirl, Aemond wants her in a way that is immediate, overpowering, and completely unlike anything he’s ever experienced before…but his fear of losing her—and his lifelong, intense phobia of rejection—sabotages their relationship over and over again.

Was there anything in specific that inspired Stargirl?

Stargirl is, and I say this with nothing but love, the most Hot Mess Express reader insert that I’ve written so far. She is very smart and intuitive, a natural therapist, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t routinely make questionable decisions while touring with the band.

She’s able to help others but struggles when it comes to protecting herself. I think that’s extremely relatable. I also love psychology as a discipline. I’m definitely not a professional; I’ve taken college-level psychology courses and taught it as a high school class, but I would never consider myself to be an expert. However, my interest in psychology (and in redeeming Sigmund Freud!) certainly bled into this fic.

As far as Stargirl’s backstory… I think that unfortunately, most women have had experiences when we were made to feel ashamed, unworthy, unlovable, immoral, etc. because of something related to our sexuality. It’s incredibly frustrating to see this repeat generation after generation. Stargirl has put a lot of time and effort into reprogramming herself from her fundamentalist Christian upbringing/community, and shedding that heartbreak and cynicism as much as possible. I think she’s an inspirational character, and a manifestation of my hope for our society’s future.

How does Stargirl complement Aemond? How does this compare to her relationship with Aegon?

Therapists have to be natural optimists, I believe. They have to be able to look at someone who is struggling and see the best in them, to envision a better path forward. When Stargirl meets Aemond in Rome, she genuinely—from the very first moment—cannot fathom thinking that he is unattractive or pitiful. She thinks he is fascinating, intelligent, talented, charming, and of course fine af (and we all agree!).

Her very first act is to put him at ease by addressing his scar/blindness immediately and in a way that is lighthearted and teasing without being cruel. Aemond is used to people either ignoring the accident entirely (awkward) or outright pitying him (even worse). Stargirl does neither.

Aemond is a source of strength for Stargirl; he is protective of her in a way that can override his own paranoia and resentment (ex. when he notices that she is crying on the jet in Chapter 5 or when he banishes Shelby in Chapter 8).

They share an organic chemistry and respect for each other that—over and over again—they have to fight their way back to. Both Stargirl and Aemond want to make the world a better place, albeit in entirely different ways, and I definitely see them turning into a bit of a power couple in that respect.

Stargirl’s relationship with Aegon is easier (as his demons present differently than Aemond’s), but also isn’t something that could ever become a stable, marriage-like partnership. Stargirl doesn’t desire Aegon in that way, nor is he equipped to be in a committed relationship with anybody (not even Selena Gomez!).

Yet fundamentally—no matter how many years or miles are between them—Aegon and Stargirl feel safe with each other. Aegon knows that Stargirl can see that he’s wounded and yet loves him unconditionally anyway. Stargirl knows that Aegon would never think less of her because of her sexuality or any other choices she might make in life. I think of them as platonic soulmates, which is a little bit inaccurate because they aren’t literally platonic. But they love each other in a way that is entirely separate from if/when/how they have sex and without ownership or expectations.

In the past, you created OCs that might prickle underneath our skin but we ended up loving them. Except for fucking Shelby. What inspired her?

I’ve had a few experiences recently that got me thinking about influencer culture and social media obsession. I think we all know people who put a ton of effort into crafting an online narrative that is radically different from their real life. Shelby is someone who rode the early influencer wave to stardom and now is kind of stuck. She doesn’t know how to create authentic experiences because she’s trained herself to manufacture them for years; similarly, she doesn’t know how to nurture genuine relationships. But Shelby also doesn’t know what comes next in her life. Aemond’s accident gives her a valuable rebranding opportunity: she can shift from “early-twenties hottie” to “self-sacrificing caretaker,” eventually evolving into wife and mommy blogging content. She clings to that so fiercely because she honestly, horrifyingly does not know who she is without a label her millions of subscribers/followers agree upon. And Shelby is willing to do some pretty deplorable things to try to keep Aemond away from Stargirl.

I think my own understanding of Shelby is actually a lot more compassionate than Comet readers might suspect. I don’t feel that she has any desire to harm Aemond, and on the contrary does care for him in the way that she knows how to. She’s definitely wrong for him, and she unintentionally massacres his mental health on a daily basis. But she really, truly thinks that she’s helping him by hiding his “humiliating” disability. She is so engrained in the shallow, deceptive, trope-conforming influencer lifestyle that whoever she was before has been entirely forgotten.

Were there any other characters in your story that you enjoyed writing?

Obviously, I adore the dynamics of the whole band. It was a nice change to write Team Black characters as good guys for the first time: Luke admiring and supporting Aemond in that worshipful sort of way, Rhaena being gentle and intuitive but also increasingly brave, Baela figuring out how to harness her natural assertiveness into advocating for her own ambitions.

Cregan’s dysfunctional childhood hits home for me in a lot of ways, and I absolutely loved him coming into his own as a good father both literally and as a father figure for Comet (especially with Aemond as he prepares for his own fatherhood journey!). Poor Criston definitely needs Cregan’s help parenting this boy band of feral raccoons. Criston is TIRED! Let the man rest!

Finally, I would like to shock everyone by announcing that Jace was one of my favorite parts of writing this fic. He’s a tool, but he also has lines that he won’t cross; way down deep somewhere, he has a fundamental and irrevocable love for Comet. Jace will taunt someone until they hit him, but he rarely hits back. Jace will poke fun at Aemond, but he is also sincerely disturbed by Shelby making Aemond so miserable. Jace body shames Aegon constantly, and yet he’s the one outside the hotel room in Chapter 8 frantically asking if Aegon is okay. Additionally, Jace is really into Stargirl in a way that is completely shameless, sometimes creepy, but also randomly insightful.

There are a lot of little moments of him being concerned about Aemond/Aegon/Stargirl throughout the fic if you look for them. Like, he breaks the awkward silence for Stargirl at the Vegas buffet. Jace is only 90% evil 🥰

I’ve also never gotten to write Jace like this before and I might never get to again, but I really enjoyed it.

As a writer, I think it is safe to say we constantly daydream. How do you know what stories need to be told?

I’ll use Comet as an example. So when I first started kicking around the HOTD boy band idea while listening to One Direction songs, I fully intended to save the potential fic for when Season 2 airs next summer. There was an essence of a story, a general vibe…touring, comets, drinks, smoke…yet it wasn’t urgent or tangible. But as soon as that last scene hit me out of nowhere—Aemond returning to the farm as a better man, riding his motorcycle with displaced snow billowing out behind him—Comet Donati as a story became vivid and real and all-consuming.

As soon as I see a scene like that, I know I have to write the story, and I usually begin immediately planning out chapters that same day. Ideas and vibes flit in and out of my mind all the time, but scenes demand to be written.

Would you ever want to revisit a story for an epilogue?

I won’t say I’ll never write an epilogue, because I suppose inspiration could strike unexpectedly. However, for me, where a story ends is truly the ending. I might have vague ideas about what happens next for certain characters, but I don’t usually see scenes or hear dialogue beyond the last chapter, so trying to write an epilogue would feel forced to me. If anything, I’m usually already in the mental headspace of a new story by the time I’m finishing up the current one! With that said, it’s super heartwarming when readers ask about epilogues, because I know that means they’ve grown to love these characters and aren’t ready to say goodbye yet.

If a reader has a question about what comes next for a character, they’re always welcome to send it my way, and I’ll answer to the best of my ability. 🥰

What is next for the wonderful Miss Maggie?

So, as usual, too many things to possibly keep up with! I have a few original novel projects floating around. But… most relevant to Tumblr… I also have two (yes, TWO!!!) new House Of The Dragon fic ideas that I’m really excited about.

Just last week, one of these ideas turned into a must-write-immediately type of story when I saw the final scene while driving home from work and listening to Fall Out Boy’s second album, From Under The Cork Tree. I’ve had that album on repeat ever since!

It’s always daunting to start a new series; the time commitment is stressful, and there’s a fear of rejection as well. I remember being absolutely terrified to post the first chapter of Comet Donati because I felt like it was so different in tone from NICIY, and I worried that my readers wouldn’t connect with it. But Comet ended up working out in the long run, so I’m trying to use that lesson to talk myself out of any self-doubt.

This new series is going to be very different from Comet in both setting and tone. It’s going to be long, around 15 chapters.

And for more details, you’ll have to check back on Sunday, September 10th! :)

[aheathen-conceivably]

Hello! Merry Christmas and good luck in the new year! I have a question, I don’t know if it’s been asked already, but I’m interested to know which of your characters is closest to you in spirit? What traits do you have in common with him? And vice versa. Which character is the most difficult for you to write, which you do not always understand: his actions, words and motivation, because you are a real writer and are probably good at the psychology of heroes (I really apologize for the distorted sentences, because I am a foreign subscriber and use a translator)

Absolutely no need to apologize, Nonny! Everything looks great and thank you so much for taking the time to send these thoughtful questions 💕

Y’all already know the rambler in me is getting all excited, so prepare y’all selves! Though I must say, it’s quite hard to pinpoint an answer, mostly because there’s at least a small bit of myself in each of the characters and who’s easiest to write is not always who is the most like me? So naturally, let’s go below the cut, and I’ll split this into sections to make it easier for us to read 😘

1. My spirit characters:

Honesty time. I think that it’s easier for me to put my “negative” qualities into characters and thus also easier to recognize them in hindsight. This is probably because it’s simply often easier to see what needs to be improved in yourself than vice versa, but also probably because I’m a dramatic broad who likes giving her characters flaws.

So although I could probably find a bit of myself in most characters, I would say those who are most like me are Rosella, Zelda, and Violette. Just down to sims traits, Rosella and my simself actually both have the self-absorbed trait (oops). I think this manifests in different ways, but at its core I’m just as likely to follow my wants and cut ties as she is. I also have a ~rather strong~ proclivity for the aesthetic and vain, enjoying beautiful things for their own sake often to the point of distraction. However, I like to think that this is tertiary to me, and my pursuit of them is not as detrimental as it was for her.

Which brings us to, of course, Zelda. Zelda shares this love of the beautiful with her sister, although for her it can extend into the ephemeral and artistic rather than simply the mundane. I would say I share that tendency toward internal existentialism with her, as well as the proclivity to separate from my immediate surroundings rather than live in the present moment. I, like her, can thus often seem “out of it” but in reality we’re just interpreting our surroundings through a distorted, if not tinted lens. However, I’m by no means as artistically talented or reserved as Zelda, which brings us to….

Our little heiress, Violette. Now I’ll try not to get too deep into spoilers here, but Little Lottie and I definitely share some core tendencies. I, like her, despise being told what to do, and will usually become more stubborn or do the opposite simply because of what someone said (whether it’s well intentioned or not). I can also be gregarious, dramatic, and loud when I want to be, and enjoy being the center of attention. However, I think the Zelda in me tempers that so that I need to retreat back into my cave after a while, while Violette thrives on it. I was also raised an only child, so a lot of Lottie’s experience with loneliness and not knowing how to relate to other children is coming from my own childhood.

2. The easiest to write:

So oddly, I don’t think there’s a clear connection between the characters who are most like me and those I find easiest to write. Rather I think that comes from the historical situation that is currently inspiring me, which character fits into that inspiration the best, and how clear of a grasp I have on that character’s personality. This often comes in the form of scenes just appearing in my head, and as I write it’s like the sentences already exist? So there’s this natural understanding between the character and me, where I don’t really have to sort through thought rubble or force their perspective quite as much?

This answer is highly dependent on what part of the story we are currently in. As in, there have been times I have found a character easy to write, and then it will suddenly switch. Zelda is absolutely one of those characters, as her perspective came very naturally to me in parts of the 1910s and then again after motherhood. Now, I find it easier to write the characters surrounding her, and I’m sure it will switch again at some point in the future.

Currently? I find Josephine easiest to write (although she is not very similar to me at all, and her deep fear of commitment is something that I don’t share in the slightest), with Antoine coming in as a close second. Violette’s perspective in the 1940s has also kind of begun presenting itself to me, although at various points I would say that Adelia, Virginia, and Florence have all also been the easiest characters to write for, and those who’s voices have inspired me to come up with new scenes and plotlines.

3. Who even is she?

Now for the characters who are least like me? That one has gotta probably gotta go to Florence, Virginia, and Antoine. As much as I may want to be like Florence, I’m gunna be honest with y’all and say that is not the case. Starting with the fact that I strongly dislike the great outdoors. Farming? Nah. Camping? Absolutely not. Living of the land? What a pleasant dream. What can I say, I am absolutely a Rosella; I enjoy being fancy and comfortable, and Florence in some ways is the antithesis of this. She also embodies selfless generosity and a sort of steady love, which are not things that I would say I really relate to (I once again point you to answer 1 😅).

Now Virginia is a strange one. I was actually very concerned with writing her, because I share none of the righteousness or quickness to action that define her. Likewise, I don’t think that I am able to remain as steady and surefire in tragedy and trauma as she does. So when I first conceived her character I thought I would have great difficulty writing her, but as I mentioned above, despite the fact that she is probably the least similar to me of all the Darlingtons, I found her easy and almost natural to write once we began her storyline.

Which brings us to my baby boy. Sigh. I say this next because Antoine has easily been one of the most natural characters for me to write. I think this is because I had such a clear vision of him from the start that has really been able to grow through the story. So he’s remained who he is through it all, and why I still find him so easy to write.

Despite this, there is very little to none of me in his character, despite the fact that I maybe sorta have a thing for the broken artist stereotype (hello, hubs, I know you’re out there 😙). So there may be some ways in which I wrote my partner into his character’s talent and approach to the world around him, but he is heavily inspired by these ideas of “old fashioned masculinity”, of self-imposed stoicism and protection and fatherhood. These are feelings that I have to imagine rather than pull from experience, but somehow the more I write him the more real they become to me as well.

4. The ~struggle~

Hands down the hardest characters for me to write have been Oliver and Isaiah. I think that Oliver really suffered from the fact that he was my first gen heir, so I was at a place in the story and my writing process where I wasn’t as sure in what I was doing or as good at honing into what I wanted to do. Then by the time this became more clear to me, I had really begun to lean into writing Florence’s character and then his children. So he kind of became less of a focus, and the less I focused on him the harder it was for me to define his voice, which then became a cycle.

I think if I could go back, I would lean more into the connection that I see between him and the romantic poets, really kind of exploring that juxtaposition between idealized nature and reality. I also think his position as a pseudo-wealthy aristocratic and failed businessman had a lot of potential, but alas, you live and you learn.

Now onto the Forgotten Child. Y’all (and I) call him that for a reason, and I think next to his sisters it’s no secret that Isaiah received much less focus (I even have a post about him realizing this 😂). Part of this is just that he’s the youngest, so I really didn’t get much time to explore his adult life or even his teenage years. It’s also because trying to juggle six perspectives all at once means that some are going to suffer more than others.

Now that being said, I am happy with his storylines. However, they often felt more like I was exploring plots I had come up with rather than really viewing things through his perspective. I think this is the biggest challenge to me when having trouble writing a character: it’s that their voice is just for whatever reason not really clear in my mind. Even in the subsequent decades, our English Darlington updates are mostly going to come from Summer, because I still have never really gotten my finger on exactly who Isaiah is. For that reason, my poor forgotten baby boy is probably the most difficult character for me to write.

—

ALSO if you made it this far please know that turning your delightful questions into a multi-paragraph rant about myself is a very self absorbed and very Rosella/Violette thing to do so in the end…I think you have all the answer you need right there 🤣

[viric-dreams]

Since the topic's been going around and getting me thinking:

Ockham enjoys the typical shows of romance, particularly those expressed physically. Heshethey does struggle though to be the only person in a relationship and the only means of physical/emotional intimacy or support for someone because of hishertheir transitory nature and personal priorities overriding romance. The Greater London Polycule is a good fit for himherthem. Emotional intimacy might be a bit more difficult because of the current identity crisis happening, but heshethey wouldn't turn down sex or any kind of physical intimacy. That's something that Ockham doesn't really have any hangups about, possibly related to living in close quarters with people most of hishertheir life and seeing it as something mundane and relatively normalised. Especially with hishertheir eclectic set of memories and experiences (many of them serpentine), Ockham finds the sexual mores of Victorian Londoners particularly inane at times. These elements also makes Ockham open to trying pretty much anything a partner may suggest, at least once.

On the other side of the spectrum is Roberts, who's actively irked by any overt signs of romance on Grand Geode, usually because that means said sequencers are distracted or shirking duties. Realistically, the negativity comes from it being something that he feels that he could never have as a consequence of both his sexuality and position (though it's not something he's self-aware enough to know, nor wants to think about). Anyone making romantic overtures at this point would be pushed away out of a mixture of him not believing that he deserves it, that said person is after some sort of advantage because of his position, and that it would be a distraction from The Work, with a healthy bit of fear of the unknown thrown in for good measure. He's built up a ridiculous amount of intricate rituals around physical contact with people that make sense only to him. Having any sort of a sex life is a nightmare when you're almost everyone's superior officer and instantly recognisable, and come with enough emotional baggage to hold every piece of sentient clothing in Polythreme, and thus regulated to quick and faceless encounters, often in foreign ports. Even then, the intricate rules persist: sex is sex, direct and perfunctory. Kissing is off limits, absolutely no lingering touches, nothing that feels too much like intimacy or involves giving up control or trusting someone. Get what you're here for and go.

Nite's lack of memory has made everything a novel option and possibility. This is not necessarily a good thing. His strong streak for showmanship and craving attention lead to some somewhat extreme behaviour. Those grand gestures that only seem to work in romance novels are exactly what appeals to his sensibilities and he's convinced that they would work in real life, and is apt to try. If boomboxes and romcoms existed in this era, he would be that guy. It clearly seems to work in the films, so absolutely worth attempting in real life. Because a lot of what he imagines romantic behaviour is comes from stories and not real life experience, he starts with the idea that this is what romance and seduction should look like. Many of these things are things he doesn't even necessarily enjoy, but he tries anyway because what does he know, maybe that's just how things are done. This does eventually modulate over time, when he gets a better sense for his own preferences, and the flair for the dramatic remains, but tempered. He is also very quick to emotionally open up and try to deepen a relationship (either romantic or otherwise), often faster than the other person is comfortable with. After a handful of negative experiences he's gotten better at this. Unlike Ockham, whose sexual tastes generally tend to be broader and has a fairly solid sense of hishertheir boundaries, Nite has the same "I'll try anything" approach, albeit it closer to an "I have to try everything to know what I like" outlook, and no moderation or sense of pacing. This has led to a handful of upsetting experiences (both for himself and any partner(s) involved) when he inevitably discovers far too late that this was not a good idea. His lack of knowledge of his own boundaries makes him dangerous to both himself and others.

Tamara's been on dates with some of her peers back in Varchas, but it was never something that intensely interested her, nor did she ever have a serious relationship. It was expected that she would eventually settle down, either with someone of her choosing from a similar class background, or through a suitable suitor introduced through her family. She did enjoy the attention that flirtation brought, but would be the first to tell you that she doesn't really know what she wants out of a partner either romantically or sexually, but of course has plenty of time to figure it out. In London, she has far more important priorities at the moment and isn't even entertaining the idea. Her initial suspicion surrounding Ockham's kindness was quickly assuaged upon realising that heshethey doesn't necessarily want anything from her at all and offering her a place to stay was simply an act of one outsider recognising another and offering a helping hand. Of course, there's plenty more regarding Ockham about which to be suspicious, but that's a different topic.

The Rubbery Barber Surgeon is in a healthy and loving butch/femme relationship with The Tentaclar Surgeoness. He enjoys filling the traditional masculine role that the Surgeoness, a huge fan of pulpy romance novels, seeks in a partner. Thus far, things have gone well for them, and they seem perfectly compatible. She might just be the one. He may have visited a particular jeweler on Flute Street a couple of times. He's slowly planning a very special date night for them in the near future.

[alasse-earfalas]

Sky’s Character Growth~

Okay, update rambles. I already touched on Wild, so let’s give Sky some love.

Jojo mentioned in her original post of all the Links that Sky is “not the leader type,” despite seniority. This has been backed up by the rest of the comic so far, where Sky is often seen hanging out in the background, being a support, mostly quiet and kinda just doing his own thing. He’s very respectful and defers to the other Links on most things (Time, of all people, is the one who convinced Sky to let Wild use the Master Sword again after breaking it). He is content on the sidelines and seems to be just kind-of along for the ride.

Then we get the update titled “Miss her”. Sky is separated from his Zelda, from the driving force behind his own Heroic journey. His inability to bear being apart from her is working against him this time, because all he wants to do is go home. He’s hiding it well, but Time picks up on the song he’s playing and they start to talk.

Which leads to this:

Notice how hard that question hits. Time continues, and Sky recovers quickly (and/or is distracted by a couple of birds flying overhead, daww~):

Thus, the central arc for Sky is set up. Hints at Demise angst have been sprinkled throughout the updates as well. True to his established character, Sky continues to stick to the background, mulling things over, providing support when needed. 

Which brings me to these two most recent updates.

Look at him. He’s being An Adult. In his own soft way, mister “not the leader type” is stepping up to lead. Not by command like Warriors or Time, but in a role more akin to the one Twilight usually fills. He’s recognizing that he is one of the older Heroes, and rather than shying away from the inherent responsibility that gives him, he’s quietly stepping into it. He sees a need and he’s filling it, without hesitation, nor overbearance. 

To me, this is Sky accepting his seniority. He’s seeing his own Hero’s Spirit at work in his younger successors, and he has decided that, you know what? They need an example. He knows that, in a way, they get that from him. He’s recognizing that he has influence and power outside of wielding the Master Sword. That he has responsibilities, not just as a Hero, but as a man. 

Which brings us to this. Keeps to the sidelines, “not the leader type” Sky, standing in the center of the room, right where you would expect a leader or a mediator to stand. Even Warriors, who is the leader type, is taking a backseat to Sky in this update. We don’t know what was said before Hyrule walked in, but by the end of the update, Sky is essentially speaking for everyone. 

The last thing I want to talk about is this:

Wild has been having The Worst time (for him, compared to the rest of LU thus far): panicking about Twilight, lashing out, having legitimate flashbacks, and rubbing all the other Links the wrong way. Now he’s had time to calm down, refocus, and actually do something to help out. Sky is the first one to acknowledge this, and is also the first person to say anything nice and welcoming to Wild since Wild ran off. 

Not only that, but look at that face. Sky is So Proud. Everyone else is various shades of surprised or perturbed, but Sky is smiling. Why? Because he recognizes the Hero’s Spirit when he sees it. He knows Wild has clashed with the other Heroes lately, so he takes the initiative to jump in first and offer Wild some much needed “ya done goods”. He’s stepping up to be a Good Man and welcome Wild back into the fold, so-to-speak. 

It’s such a minor shift but it is deliciously in-character and plays to the themes that Jojo’s set out for Sky’s character arc. I’m really hoping that we get some proper Sky-focused updates relatively soon, but this was absolutely lovely in the meantime.  🥰