#(she also called me by my mother's name a whole bunch when i was little. i looked a lot like my mother when she was a kid)
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On My Side (NH13)
Pairing: Nico "I think the hockey gods were on my side" Hischier x Fem!OC Poppy
WC: 6k
part of the On Your Side universe
*This is a bonus chapter set after the ending of the overall fic, and can be read as a standalone if you haven't read the fic, but if you want to understand their dynamic and Poppy's personality a little more, you should!!!
Description: 18+ MDNI, Nico comes home to Poppy after scoring his first ever career hat-trick for the Devils. Way more fluff than smut but Nico is down bad as always.
A/N: You're all a bunch of enablers and that's all I have to say on the matter!!! Hope this fills the void while I continue to struggle with chapter ten lmao there is mention of Baby Cheeto in here but no spoilers for her name. Nico calls her Bug as a nickname, like _____-Bug, Chäferli (little bug) or just Bug for short, but it isn't her actual name. I can't use Cheeto forever lmao. I was literally trying to think of a title and remembered he said the words "on my side" WHAT IF I TOLD YOU HE'S A MASTERMIND he's an oys!truther if I ever saw one! Painfully obsessed with Poppy if you ask me. Also the way Cheeto would rock the heck out of this it's so cute I had to share
Nico Hischier likes to think he’s a patient man.
Finally scoring his first career hat-trick after 8 years in the NHL, after 476 games played with the Devils, would be the ultimate testament to that.
Doing so in the first ever game with his daughter in attendance - on home turf, his mother and Poppy holding her up in the family suite during warm-ups in her little Devils teddy sleeper that he can only just make out from down on the ice, but has his rampant heart beating out of his chest all the same - has him thinking that maybe, after all those years, after all those games, the stars had been aligning for him the whole time.
And it was that sort of patience he had tried to tune into since the end of the second period, when he knew Poppy had left early to try skip traffic and get their little girl home safe for bed.
It’s what he tries to channel in the aftermath of the game, swarmed by reporters in the locker room, trying to remain polite and professional, not rushing them through their questions or giving half-assed answers - knowing he owes a lot more than that to the organisation that has allowed him to get this far. Trying to save just a speck of energy to give when he finally gets home, collapsing into the warm embrace of the girls he knows are waiting patiently for him.
It’s what he holds onto when he has to take a detour on his way home, dropping his mom off at her hotel and trying not to visibly squirm in his seat as she regales him with stories of how his daughter had captured the hearts of everyone she encountered, swallowing down the slight jealousy that he hadn’t been there to see it and clinging to the fact that he had his own success elsewhere in the night - success that played second fiddle in his own mother’s eyes to the experience of sharing her granddaughter’s first ever game with her, an experience he had to endure twice as she called his father from his car, deep chuckles ringing through the speakers as he tried to get a word in edge ways beyond her excitement.
It’s what has him shaking with anticipation as he almost skips down the hall to their apartment, mustering up the rest of his energy to walk into their home without the weight of the world on his shoulders, leaving any doubt, any insecurity, any lingering self-deprecation at the door so he can bask in this moment with the two hearts that are shaped entirely to fit him into them.
And it’s what has him shaking off whatever disappointment tries to creep in when he sees his little girl asleep in Poppy’s arms, knowing whatever tiny part of her he will ever get will always be enough - even if her big, glassy eyes aren’t looking up at him, even if he doesn’t come home to one of those heart-stopping beaming smiles she has started to give to him whenever he enters the room - her being here, sleeping safely in the arms of her beautiful mother, and him getting to come home to whatever version of them he can, is more than he could ever ask for.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the hat-trick hero.” Poppy’s soft voice carries to him as he makes his way over, dropping his bag on the floor and keys on the counter, heading straight to where she is now standing and pressing a kiss to her waiting lips. “Hi, handsome.”
“She didn’t wanna say goodnight to her daddy, huh?” He tries not to sound too dejected - he’s supposed to be on a high, after all - but after half an hour of his mother unintentionally bragging about all the attention she had been giving to her Gromi all night, he can’t help the slight sag of his shoulders - especially knowing that she’s going to be spending the morning with his mom tomorrow, too.
“Sorry, baby, we watched a little of you on the TV and then she got hangry,” Nico finds himself hypnotised by her still figure, enamoured with the way she exudes sheer calmness. The smile that creeps up on his lips seems to do so by muscle memory - a dopey kind of smile he’s probably had plastered on his face since she came into the world kicking and screaming 2 months ago, a smile permanently etched into his features from probably even before that. “I promise I tried to keep her up, she literally fell asleep on my boob.” Poppy whispers, watching with warm, glittery eyes as Nico takes in the sight of his two favourite people in front of him - Poppy already changed into one of his shirts, settled for the night, and his baby girl all cosy in her little teddy bear onesie, pacifier bobbing between her plush little lips.
“Look at her hat,” he pouts, running a finger along the folded seam of the way-too-big beanie Poppy has perched on top of her head, the knit fabric falling just short of her closed eyes. “That’s adorable.”
“Your mom put it on her before we left,” Poppy chuckles lightly, “Wanted to keep it on until you got home, we had to celebrate the hatty properly.” Her brows raise as if gesturing to the bill of the cap on her own head, one of his, he’s sure - no doubt stolen from their closet as soon as she got home.
“My little good luck charm,” he leans down to press a kiss to her cheek before he lifts himself back up and bends toward Poppy, “Gonna have to start coming to all the games.”
“I’ll let you break the news to her when she wakes up,” she hums as he presses his lips to hers, “She has a very low tolerance for everybody telling her to smile and getting all up in her space, been grouchy all night.”
“Just like Mami, huh, bug?”
“Oh, you think you’ve got jokes now?” Poppy scoffs as she steps back, ready to take their daughter to bed. “Score your first hatty and you think you’re funny?”
“Always been funny, babe,” he smirks, flicking at the cap sat on her head before he takes it off, flipping it to place on top of his own and following her down the hall. “I’ll prove it to you when I get her first laugh.”
“She’ll be laughing at you, not with you.”
“Better than nothing.”
Nico sits on the edge of their bed as Poppy reaches into the crib to retrieve the sleeping bag in there before she lays it down beside him. He does the work unzipping and readying it for her to place their daughter inside while she rocks her still-sleeping body, and the two of them work in tandem to get her inside before zipping her back up, with Nico softly pulling the beanie from her head and watching her fluffy hair fan out in its absence.
He runs a gentle hand over her head to smooth it down as Poppy lifts her, and leans into where she offers her up for a kiss before she puts her in the crib. Nico watches with a soft smile etched into his features, the familiarity of it all spreading warmth throughout his chest, his favourite part of every day being this - sharing a goodnight routine in the comfortable quiet, the two loves of his life safe and happy within arms reach.
None of it feels new or daunting anymore, just easy - and despite the constant warnings of it not always being this way, Nico just wants to feel it to its fullest extent; sheer happiness and serenity.
Poppy returns to the front of him, and he instinctively spreads his legs to accommodate her, palms laying flat against his chest and his hands falling to her hips. She just looks at him for a good few seconds, eyes shimmering with admiration, lips tugged between teeth and a head tilted as her expression flickers into something more intense.
Her hands travel down his arms, wordlessly, until she grasps at his wrists and pulls him to stand, leaning up to press a fleeting kiss to the corner of his mouth. “C’mon,” she whispers while her lips are still against his skin, “Wanna celebrate you.”
As if getting to come home to her isn’t celebration enough.
He follows her back through the hall with their hands clasped together, arms stretched between them so he can watch the hem of his shirt ride up against the backs of her soft thighs, and he starts to feel his throat go dry.
He thinks of all those mornings they would spend in the kitchen together in the summer, his shirts a little tighter around her pregnant belly, riding up against her curves and leaving very little to the imagination when she’d wear just his t-shirt and nothing else.
She’s wearing panties now, he can tell, could see the bottom of them peaking out when she’d leaned over to put their daughter in her crib. But he doesn’t mind inching them off, quite likes the slow pace of unwrapping her like a gift - a well-deserved present for all his hard efforts on the ice.
It’s where his fingers find themselves almost immediately when she stops just short of the couch, spinning and practically launching herself into his waiting arms. He can’t help but chuckle as they collide, large arms wrapping around her frame as she melts into him, hands gripping either side of his jaw to pull him down in a clash of teeth and tongues. He palms at her ass as she presses her hips forward, fingers slipping under the hem of her panties and wriggling under them until his knuckles are covered by the fabric, squeezing at the flesh until she groans into his open mouth.
He feels deft fingers working between them to rid him of his own clothes, clumsily popping open the buttons of his jacket before working their way up his chest, slipping into the arms and helping him shrug it off. The weight of it drops to the floor with a heavy thud, and when her hands return to his chest for the next item of clothing to be removed, she pushes him back with an exaggerated huff.
“Baby, how many layers do you need?”
“You in some kind of rush, or something?” He chuckles, chasing her lips with a crane of his neck, getting a quick kiss in before she pushes him back again with palms laid flat on his broad chest.
“Your daughter has some sort of radar for when we’re within 2 inches of each other,” she says as her hands slide down, the feel of them through the extra layers he has on still present as she travels past the hard ridges of his abdomen. She grasps tight at the bottom of his hoody, and he lends a hand to tugging it up and over his head, throwing that to the floor, too. “We gotta get a move on before she wakes up,”
“My daughter?” He scoffs, removing his undershirt while she’s distracted, relishing the feeling of a heavy gaze on his chest once it’s fully revealed to her hungry eyes. “She’s really given you such a hard time that you’re disowning her?”
“She isn’t letting me have a hard time at all, that’s the problem.” Her hands reach back out seemingly of their own volition, fingers fanning out across his skin as her stare glides down, the weight of it sliding down his skin to the point he feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand to attention.
“That was weak for you.” He teases.
“I’m out of practice,” she pouts, closing the distance once more and pressing her lips to the slightly stubbled skin of his jaw, nipping at the flesh as her ministrations travel across his features, his jaw, his neck, the spot just below his ear, where she mutters, “Wanna show you how proud I am of you,”
“Oh yeah?” He asks as she works at the button of his pants, pushing until they pool at his feet and he can kick them off.
“Mmhm,” she moves her kisses back to his waiting lips, “Been waiting to get my hands on you all night.”
“Been waiting to get my hands on you all day,” he mutters back, bending to lift her with hands gripping her ass, “Been thinking about you teasing me in the kitchen this morning,” he starts heading for the couch, mind spinning as she continues kissing him - thinking of all the plans she had been making for the two of them while his mom takes Little Bug out in the morning, finally giving them some much needed, uninterrupted time to themselves. Plans of wasting the morning away between the sheets, sharing showers, having no responsibilities other than paying attention to one another. “Thinking about having you all to myself tomorrow."
“You gonna let me give you a preview?”
He chuckles as he falls back onto the couch, all grace thrown out the window as they sink into the cushions, her still holding onto him and now straddling his lap, lips stretched into a blissful smile as he looks up at her.
She presses them straight to his, and he can’t bring himself to mind the way their teeth clash at her eagerness, hips grinding down onto his as she settles onto her knees.
He could spend forever kissing her like this, sensual and sloppy, the slight scratch of her nails against the sides of his neck and his grip on her thighs guiding her movements straight onto the aching growth between his legs.
He bucks up to meet her, and their lips part with a wet smack as she groans.
"Bet you can’t wait for me to shave, eh?” he smiles as he swipes a thumb across the space between her nose and lip, the skin red raw from the scratch of his moustache.
“You know damn well I’d ban you from ever touching a razor again if I could.” She says, breathlessly, slowly thrusting down onto him.
“Tell that to your little red muzzy, you’re giving Luke a run for his money,”
“Hey,” she swats at his chest in feigned outrage, “The kid tried his best!”
“No more talk about Hughes when you’re sat on my lap,”
“You brought him up!”
“Thought I was getting a preview,” he groans as he shuffles, reaching between them to slip a hand between her legs, tucking his fingers beneath her panties and swiping against her heat. “Jesus, Poppy.”
“Told you I’ve been thinking about you all night,” she pecks at his lips again, raising her hips a little to give him further access to slide his fingers through the almost excessive wetness that’s near enough soaked through her panties.
He prods at her entrance, two fingers slipping straight in until she’s gasping against his cheek in sheer bliss. His digits move with ease, working his way up to his knuckles as he drinks up her pleasured moans, his chin tilting until their open mouths just press together without kissing, panting against one another as he works her up.
He pushes the fabric of his shirt up her thighs with his other hand, exposing his handiwork to hungry eyes so he can see the way she glistens between her legs - can see the way his fingers slide in an out of her.
She takes his shirt off, throwing it beside them on the couch so she can see too, looking down for only a moment before she’s throwing her head back.
He’s so hard just watching her that it’s almost painful - straining against the seams of his briefs until they’re tenting beneath her. And she must notice, nimble fingers working him out until he’s thick and hot and heavy in her palm, gripping around him in with her thumb swiping at his tip, hips shuffling until his fingers slip out of her heat and she can move on her knees to hover above his waiting cock.
He takes a hold of himself while her hands raise to steady herself on his shoulders, and he waits with bated breath as she lowers herself, sinking past her entrance until he’s sheathed entirely, tight, wet walls wrapped around him in a long-awaited embrace.
Their moans fall out in sync, both of them stilling, the only movements between them being the soft rise and fall of panting chests.
It’s a minute before she starts to rock her hips, leaning back down to distract herself from whatever unease needs to fade away with the press of her lips to his - tongue swiping at his, sucking and nipping at the muscle as she works herself to the point where she can lift herself up a little.
“Fuck me,” he whines out in an elongated groan as she sinks down on him again, tight and slick and warm, and he feels tension in every cell in his body, strung taut to the point where he feels like he could snap entirely in any given moment.
“I’m working on it,” she pouts, “Think I overestimated my talents here,”
“Think you’re very talented,” he hums, pressing a kiss to her jaw as he lays large hands on the dip of her waist, fingers tickling into the arch of her back so her movements are a little smoother, a little more fluid. “So good to me, yeah? Just need a hand.”
He guides her hips into a steady rhythm - up, down, forward, back - until she’s rocking onto him in a mind numbing pace.
God, he thinks, this is heaven.
It’s been so long since he’s had her like this. Probably all the way back in Switzerland in the summer, and he thinks a lot about this situation mirrors that - trying to stay quiet, trying to feel as much of each other as they possibly can without drawing attention from sleeping parties one room over.
He remembers thinking, all those months ago, that it wouldn’t be possible to love Poppy any more than he did, then - that he couldn’t possibly feel more for her than he did when he shared that part of his world, and she had embraced it with open arms. She had blended straight into his family, had adapted herself to his routine, had brought new life and colour to what he had always considered vibrant, anyway, but she had changed the meaning of it all.
But she had done the same to life in Jersey.
Long gone were any feelings of homesickness he used to get - especially around this time of the year. Fully immersed now into his season, summer seeming too far from his reach that he started to forget what home felt like. But not anymore.
Home is Poppy. Home is their baby girl sleeping soundly in the next room. It’s playing one of the greatest games of his career so far, meeting milestones he had been reaching for for so long, standing in the centre of the arena he has built his career in, hearing the rapturous cheers of fans chanting his name, and driving back knowing the love garnered there could never possibly compare to the love waiting for him in his apartment.
He brings her face down with a palm splayed gently across her jaw, fingers reaching back to tickle at the nape of her neck and thumb swiping tenderly at her soft cheekbone, until their mouths collide. He shifts his hips to meet her ministrations, finding a rhythm that has her gasping into his mouth, enough that his tongue can slip past the seam of her lips and press against hers - hot and fervid and eager.
He wonders as the pressure builds if this passion will ever wither. If this need to profess his love for her will ever wain away, if he’ll ever be casual about the way in which she has become the entire centre of his universe.
He hopes not.
He hopes when he’s 80, he looks over at her and his heart still hammers in his chest. He hopes his mouth struggles to make sense of all the ways in which his brain tries to convey what she means to him - hopes he still stutters around his sentences and feels weak to the very base of his spine at the mere thought of her.
In fact, he doesn’t hope at all.
He knows he will.
“You feel so good,” Poppy mutters into his mouth, panting against his swollen lips, “I’ve missed this so much.”
“Yeah?” He thrusts up, “You missed being full of me?”
He’s missed this far out look in her eyes, glassed over and almost gone as she nods in response - they haven’t really been able to get to this stage with their quick fumbles and rushed hookups in the last 2 weeks since she got the all clear from her doctor for them to start being intimate again. Sure, they had developed other methods over those first 6 weeks, making good use of hands and mouths in whatever limited time they could find together, but nothing compares to this.
To being attached at every point like they are one.
“You gonna come for me?”
He still remembers her tells, fluttering lashes, trembling thighs, stuttered breaths all combined with the spine tingling way in which she tightens around him, and he manages to time it so they come together, one final burst of energy used to lift his hips just as she sinks down, body slumping into tremors that wrack through the both of them.
He holds her in place for a second, large hands pushing his shirt up her back as he starts to rub circles into her flesh, soothing her back into a softened consciousness - hazy and frazzled but still in tune with every movement he makes.
Her nose presses into the expanse of his neck, lips pecking at all the sensitive spots she can seek out as they both try to catch their breaths - and he realises she was probably right before, they haven’t had time like this for a while now.
Still, he’ll take what he can get.
She lifts her hips just enough for him to slip out, and reaches to the small table at the side of the couch where she has miraculously stashed a pack of baby wipes. She takes two out, using one to clean the both of them before she bundles it into the clean one and discards of it back onto the table to be disposed when she eventually gets the feeling back in her legs.
And it’s as soon as Poppy’s legs give way and she collapses into him that they both hear it - a soft wail carrying through the monitor behind the couch. Cries filling the space around them and bursting their bubble with an almighty pop!
“Told you,” Poppy mumbles into his neck, skin sticky with a soft sheen of sweat. “Won’t even let me get a hatty of my own,”
Nico scoffs, snorting out a loud chuckle that shakes where she rests on his chest, and despite her feigned irritation, she feels her cheeks puff out into a soft, unbreakable grin. “Like you’d have lasted 3 rounds.”
“What happened to me being very talented?” She pouts, mustering whatever strength she has left to push herself up, swinging a leg back over and moving to stand, only for him to grasp back at her, pulling her until her back falls into the plush of the couch.
“Talented, Poppy, not super human,” he chuckles, standing from the cushions and tucking himself back into his briefs. “I’ve got her.”
“It’s probably wind, I changed and fed her before she went down.”
He presses one last kiss to Poppy’s head before heavy feet carry him down the hall toward their bedroom, where their daughter’s crib is temporarily positioned until she starts to sleep a little further through the night. He doesn’t bother flicking the light on as he enters, able to follow his muscle memory straight over to where she is without tripping over his own feet, and he lifts her as soon as he can, cooing at her as she cries into his chest.
“I’ve got you, Chäferli,” he mutters as he rocks her gently, large hand completely encompassing where he can feel her back through her sleeping bag. “Daddy’s here,”
He reaches over to shut off the monitor before he ambles over to his and Poppy’s bed, sitting with his daughter still clutched to his chest, little hiccups coming out as his hand tries to work up her wind.
“Got yourself all worked up, huh?” He asks, so deep into his routine of talking to her about anything and everything that he no longer second guesses it. “My little bug, you’re okay.”
It takes a good few minutes to calm her down, to the point that Nico thinks she might even be hungry and he’ll have to call Poppy in, wiggling a finger between her lips to see if she latches on, but he continues to pat and rub at her back until she burps, and her cries turn into little coos, that turn into soft pants with wide, sparkling eyes staring up at him in wonder.
He looks down at her in the same way, dark eyes flitting across her every feature. Across the soft but thick head of hair, the crazy long eyelashes, the puffy lips and the little button nose.
She looks so much like Poppy that he feels his chest ache every time he looks at her - but it’s a good kind of ache, a longing and content kind of ache, that only aches to remind him of everything he stands to lose if he doesn’t work hard enough to keep it.
“Gromi told me you were charming everybody at daddy’s work,” he tells her with a soft smile, the pad of his finger pressing at the tip of her nose. “Says she’s gonna have to show you off around the city on her own tomorrow.”
Tiny fingers reach up to clasp around his, holding on and clutching with a grip he’s sure wasn’t so firm that morning when he had said his goodbyes.
“Careful, bug,” he tells her, “You hold Papi’s hand too long and he won’t let you go.”
Wide eyes gleam back at him, and he watches in awe as they start to crinkle in the corners.
He becomes all too aware of the hammering of his heart, and lays her beside him on the bed in fears that the echoing thud of it beating against his chest might disturb her. He curls up beside her, making sure she’s flat as he gets himself comfortable, and just lays there for a good few minutes, watching her as she watches him.
There isn’t a feeling in the world that compares to this, he thinks. He could score a hundred hat-tricks, have a million people chanting his name, and it won’t come close to how adored he feels in this moment, how proud he feels to have played any part in making a little human so perfect and beautiful.
He leans forward, kissing softly at her puffy cheek, careful not to press too hard that she feels the scratch of his moustache, and he relishes the little squeal of what he hopes is delight she gives in return.
Poppy gives it 20 minutes before she decides to venture through to their bedroom, having cleaned up and busied herself sterilising bottles so they’re ready for Katja to come pick up in the morning. It’s been a rare occurrence lately that Nico has had his one-on-one time with their daughter, him being so busy with training and their trip to Florida - and he wouldn’t say it, wouldn’t fess up to the ways in which it gets him down, but she knows he feels like he’s missing a lot.
She changes so much day to day - discovers so much about the world around her - and as much as Poppy tries to save things for him to see on his own, tries to find the balance between sharing the little moments she gets with him and letting him experience them for himself, she knows there’s nothing she can do to keep that nagging voice at bay.
He’s always been that way, unable to completely silence the thoughts that tell him no matter what he does, it isn’t enough.
He’d even done it tonight - his first career hat-trick, him being the first Swiss-born player to score a natural hat-trick, a stadium filled with fans chanting his name, dominating a team the Devils hadn’t beat at home in close to 10 years - and it hadn’t been his best performance.
She would gladly spend the rest of her life convincing him he’s good enough, she thinks.
Her and their little Bug being the ones who get to welcome him home after a night like tonight? She doesn’t know what she did in a past life to get the Gods on her side like this, but she’d do it again a thousand times over.
As her feet pad softly down the hall toward their room, she listens out for the soft voice she usually has the pleasure of eavesdropping on when she thinks he doesn’t know she’s hovering on the other side of the door. A soft voice that tells their little girl exaggerated stories from his day about her uncles, about his games, about whatever he got up to while he was away and what he brought back for her from his travels. But this time, it’s quiet - the peaceful kind of quiet that wraps around her like a blanket, tranquil and warming as she pushes the door open and steps into the room.
Nico is curled up on his side of the bed, on top of the covers, and his arm is draped gently over their daughter’s sleeping bag, their faces inches apart as soft snores fall from their parted lips. She inches closer as quiet as she can manage, leaning over them and taking in their similar profiles - the gentle slope of their mirrored noses, dark lashes framing closed eyes that are turning darker to match her daddy’s day by day.
If anyone had told the Poppy of last November that this is where she would be now - that this is where she’d be with Nico - she never in a million years would have believed it.
He has transformed her life in such little time that she can barely remember the before. Can barely remember a night she fell asleep in any other bed, by any other side, or woke up to anyone else. Can barely remember feeling anything close to this kind of happiness, this kind of content.
It’s like he’s introduced her to a whole new level of feelings. Ones she struggles to describe, like there’s no word in the English language that could possibly convey what he means to her.
Maybe his language has a word for it. Something that she’s never heard before, but just sounds right. Like she knew it somewhere much deeper than her brain allowed her access. She’ll have to ask him, tomorrow - when they finally have a morning to themselves and she can work up the energy to crawl out from under the sheets with him.
A part of her wishes she could take a snapshot of this moment - could send it back in time to the Poppy who never thought this kind of life would ever find her. The Poppy who was drifting, coasting, floating, afraid of landing on her own two feet and having to drag them for the rest of time through unfamiliar territories. The Poppy who pushed down her ever expanding adoration for the man currently cuddled up to their entire life in the bed they share, who convinced herself he could never possibly feel the same way, and wasted years of her life when she could have had this.
But another part of her thinks, what’s the point?
She has him, now.
She’ll have him forever.
She allows herself to watch for a minute as they take deep breaths in sync, all the post-game tension in Nico’s body long melted away, before she quietly shuffles over to the bathroom to get herself ready for bed.
She manages to make her way back over in the dark without stumbling, by some miracle, and reaches over to pick her baby girl up without interrupting her sleep, standing beside her crib and rocking her a little just to make sure she’s still fully drifted off - relishing the feeling of soft puffs of air falling into her neck as she cradles her.
Nico must wake at the loss of contact, instincts kicking in immediately when he can no longer feel the little body that had been resting under his protective arm, and when Poppy looks back over, she can see the reflective glint in his eyes as he watches her - soft and adoring and tooth-achingly sweet.
Instead of putting her down, she bounces gently on her feet back over to Nico’s side of the bed, sitting beside him as he shuffles up, and the two of them just watch their daughter as she sleeps.
For all the times they have been warned that this bliss is temporary, that it’s just a phase, Poppy can’t see it ending for as long as Nico looks at her like this. Like he has the entire world sat in front of him.
“She was smiling at me before,” he whispers as he repositions himself, legs spread so that Poppy can sit between them. “Was trying to get her to calm down, and she was just looking straight at me with those big sparkly eyes and she smiled right at me.”
“She was doing it a little when we got home, earlier.” Poppy whispers back, hoping he doesn’t mind her raining on his parade a little to tell this story, “We just caught your interview on TV after the game, and there was this close up of you, and she smiled so big, Nico. She never smiles like that for anybody.”
“That’s ‘cause you snitch on her and tell everyone it’s gas.”
“I don’t want anyone else thinking they’re special.”
“But I am?” He asks, reaching to swipe the back of his finger softly against her cheek, the soft moonlight sifting into the room reflecting off of the ring on his finger, the quick glimmer enough to catch Poppy’s eye, to distract her so much that she can only hum in response, lips curving into a tender smile.
“Yeah,” she breathes, the tranquility of the room a stark contrast to the way her heart erupts into thunderous applause for him - akin to that of the stadium full of fans earlier that night. Thousands of voices chanting his name, singing his praises, cheering him on for all the glory he brought to their night. He brings that to Poppy, tenfold, every day. “You’re really special.”
He leans over their sleeping daughter to press a loving kiss to Poppy’s lips, careful not to disturb the little angel between them, and Poppy kisses him straight back, fervent but fleeting.
“I’m so proud of you, baby.” she mutters into his mouth, careful not to invest too much of herself into another moment they’ll swiftly get interrupted from.
“You gonna show me in the morning?” He mumbles back, their lips still touching, noses pressed together, his hand still cradling her face. She nods, and he feels her cheeks round into his palm. “Gonna give me that hatty you promised?”
“Gonna give you whatever you want.”
“Another baby, Frau?”
She scoffs, swallowing down the fizzing feeling at the back of her throat the nickname.
“Ask me again after your next hat-trick.”
#nico hischier#nico hischier imagine#nico hischier smut#nico hischier x oc#nico hischier fanfiction#*writing#*oys#I'm beyond caring about the amount of spoilers for the next few chapters in here what am I supposed to do#NOT write domestic hischier family after the other night?????#he literally begged and pleaded with me to write this#ANYWAY I finally got to write actual dad!nico this was so fun#I might let him make ME juno#I feel like his hatty really played second fiddle to me just writing how in love with each other these two are lmao#ALSO I FORGOT TO WRITE IT ABOVE BUT S/O AGAIN TO RORY!!! AS ALWAYS!!!! SHE IS MY SOUNDBOARD FOR EVERYTHING AND I LOVE HER
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ough, just remembered, dreamt about visiting my late grandma in her care facility. and she was so lucid and talkative (haven't seen her this alive and present in the past 15 years tbh) and so uncharacteristically nice. I sat on her bed and we chatted a bunch. and then I curled into her side and she wrapped her arms around me and we napped a bit
idk what that means but that moment felt full of light and love...
#logically i knowwww it would've never happened irl#because i know through experience and through my aunt's and mother's childhood stories that my grandma was very strict and cold#sometimes downright abusive towards both of them. and quite strict with me too whenever i stayed over at her's and grandpa's place as a kid#(she also called me by my mother's name a whole bunch when i was little. i looked a lot like my mother when she was a kid)#(which probably saved me from a bunch of worse treatment from her. my mother was the golden child while my aunt was the black sheep)#anyway enough about all that. dream that made me feel confusing things i guess. idk how to process
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heyyyy pookie!!! soo, I was the one that requested the "all yours" post, and first, I loveeeeee it never expect anything less of you!!! Secondly, i was wondering if you could do something like that, where y/n is not from Britain and English isn't her first language. Y/n is shy, so when she doesn't know a word she doesn't know how to say it and then her words end up being a whole jumble up. also, can it be just like a bunch of fluffiness and if u want a little bit of fun time?
ps y is this actually me
pps sorry if I'm asking so much and you don't understand, I just love mothers writing and English ain't my first language :)
Super short, but I hope you like it! And are you calling me mother?
😭😭😭 It's just ironic if you are bc I am one lmaooooo. Anyways, love you, pookie!
It Started With A Quill
Mattheo Riddle x Reader
Warnings: Cussing, that's about it
When you first met Mattheo, you were still struggling with English a little. You didn’t know or you forgot some words. It made going to a school in Britain, where everyone speaks English, a little hard. So, you were super shy when you met him in one of your classes and he sat down next to you.
“Ah, fuck.” He muttered to himself when he was looking through his bag. He sighed and turned to you. “Do you have a quill I could borrow? I forgot mine.” He asked.
“Quill.” You repeated the word, furrowing your eyebrows as you looked at him.
“Yeah. A quill.” He nodded, not understanding you didn’t understand him.
“Uh…” You shrugged, a little embarrassed and awkward about the situation. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Now he was looking at you curiously. “A quill. To write with.” He said, making a gesture with his hand, mimicking writing.
“Oh!” You nodded, piecing together what he meant and handed him an extra quill from your bag. “Sorry, I’m not the best with English.” You said with a sheepish smile.
“Oh, English isn’t your first language?” Mattheo asked, tilting his head as he leaned back in his seat.
You nodded in response.
“How’s school for you then?” He asked curiously.
“School is…” You knew the word you wanted to say, but couldn’t remember it in English. “It can be hard at times. Like I don’t always…” You clicked your tongue, trying to recall the word.
“Understand?” He offered.
“Yes! Understand!” You nodded. “I don’t always understand the teachers. The words get mixed in my head.” You said.
“Sounds frustrating.” He sighed sympathetically.
“Um, what’s your…what do I call you?” You asked.
“My name? Mattheo. What’s yours?” He smiled ever so slightly, seeming to enjoy your struggle with words.
“(Y/N).” You answered. “Nice to greet you.”
“Meet. It’s nice to meet you.” He smiled as he corrected you.
You sighed, blushing in embarrassment. “Right. Sorry. Nice to meet you.”
“That’s cute.” He said, leaning forward to rest his head on his hand on the desk as he still smiled at you. “You get embarrassed so easily. You know it’s not a big deal, right?”
“I know. Still…” You shrugged, looking away. “People make jokes about it.”
“How about you teach me your language and you can make fun of me?” He said, looking over you now that you weren’t looking at him.
“You want to learn my language?” You asked curiously as you looked back at him.
He shrugged. “I've always wanted to learn another language anyways. This way I can get a personal tutor.” He said with a sweet smile, looking back in your eyes.
“Tutor.” You repeated the word. “Would you help me too?”
“I guess I can.” He said, turning his attention to the teacher as they started class.
That was how you met Mattheo and how he got you to give him private lessons in your language.
Taglist:
Let's see if this works this time
@jeannie-beannie @yourenogoodforme @mixvchelle @helendeath @evaslytherpuff
@ireallyneed-somesleep @soaked4abby @hpnsfwaddict @mayamonroem @motherfing-stargirl
@dracoslovergirl @littlemadamred @i-like-pandas5
#slytherin boys#slytherin boys x reader#mattheo riddle x you#mattheo riddle fluff#mattheo riddle#mattheo riddle x reader
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All my head cannons for aphmau characters.°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞
Zvahl family.
Laurence is Italian.
He’s 5’11
Laurence is a charmer. flowers, dinner dates , stay in dates, anything romantic he gots it.
He’s very bi and is constantly confused. ( me to laur)
Laurence was a highlighter kid.
He has really bad Separate anxiety especially from partner.
He has an iPhone 8 and will keep that thing until he dies or it is dust. I mean like the screen is falling off a little it’s cracked and laggy.
He can’t do math or tell time on an actual clock.
He’s dyslexic. ( same same)
Because he grew up on a farm imma say he’s helped multiple animals give birth.
Never really had a crush on aphmau he thought he did but he was just jealous that garroth was putting his attention into her and not him.
Ro’Meave family.
garroth switched rooms with vlyd to have the room the laurances window faces.
I like to think garrote and Laurence are next door neighbors.
Non of the ro’Meave children were allowed animals growing up but that didn’t stop Zane from having a pet spider that his parents didn’t find out about until it died but it escaping and garte killing it since he thought a random tarantula just entered there house.( not that he wouldn’t kill it anyways if he knew it was a pet)
Zenix is one of the ro’mave brothers but he has a different mom and doesn’t live with them. That’s why he hates them sm. ( fuck garte and his cheating ass ) also Zenix looks a lot like garte but he dyes his hair and does makeup to make himself not look it.
(That’s also means Zenix is secretly a blonde. )
Zianna has forced all the boys to join an activity since they were 3.
Garroth joined a bunch of different sports but then baseball stuck for him.
Zane joined cooking.
Vylad did cooking, pottery, painting, soccer, ice skating but ultimately he ended up staying in fencing.
Garroth is the tallest out of everyone and gene is second tallest.
Garroth 6’2
Rodriguez family.
Genes real name is Eugene.
Gene and Dante don’t have the same dad.
Genes dad was abusive and left when he was 4.
Dante’s dad died before he was born in the military.
Gene is super cuddly in his sleep and he often cuddles Zenix in his sleep.
Sasha has a whole album of them cuddling together.
Dante and gene have there mothers last name.
Gene 6’0
Valkrum family.
Travis is German. ( me to buddy)
Travis and his dad are best friends and talk about everything together.
Shalashaska family.
In Mcd after aphamu I become Irene or got her relic a lot of people were upset with her due to previous prayers unanswered.
Gelula family.
Zenix and gene sleep fight due to there childhoods.
Zenix has a staring problem.
He lives with his mom.
Ashida family.
So I ignore the nickname Kawaii Chan and just call her nana so that’s how I am referr to her.
She has 15 siblings.
10 Boys and 5 girls.
She's a glass child.
She a middle child.
So I can't really think of more but maybe ill update if I do but for my last one Imma say Garroth got cadenza a fashion designing job because he’s rich and has friends in high places he just pestered all of them until someone was willing to take a look at her work and actually loved it.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞
#aphmau#garroth ro'meave#mcd laurance#garroth ro'meave x reader#mystreet laurance#mcd garroth#laurence zvhal#dante#garrothpdh#dante aphmau#nana aphmau#cadenza aphmau#vylad ro'meave#mcd vylad#zane aphmau#aphmau zenix
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The Magdalene
Who is She?
This is a question I've been asking since I was a little girl. Despite going to a Christian primary school, I have few memories of being taught about her, other than her being a penitent prostitute and the first witness to the resurrection.
When I was ten I watched an animation movie called the Miracle Maker starring Ralph Phiens as Yeshua and Miranda Richardson as the Magdalene. In that movie she's portrayed as being a mentally ill woman tortured by hallucinations, is healed by Yeshua and becomes one of his closest disciples. I should also add the two are VERY touchy feely with each other in that movie, it's a beautifully chaste semi-romantic bond.
In 2003, when I was getting into Wicca, I met someone in a Pagan chat room who called himself a Gnostic Christian Witch. He said that the Magdalene was his goddess, that she was the Holy Mother Spirit (Sophia) incarnate in her Daughter form, just as the Father was with the Son; Yeshua. This....blew my mind. And led me down a rabbit hole of a bunch of Gnostic and heretical texts.
Then the Da Vinci Code came out and this whole belief about Magdalene being Jesus' wife came into the mainstream. But while everyone seemed to be obsessing over their romantic and sexual life and what children they might have had, none of this really phased me because it the first Gnostic Witch I met already held this belief - but he stressed that it came secondary to who Magdalene was as a spiritual leader in her own right.
Since then I have heard so many different versions of who the Magdalene "really" was that it's hard to list them all but I'll give it a go:
- She was originally from Egypt and trained as a priestess of Isis. Yeshua met her on his travels as he was studying before coming into his role as a teacher himself and they formed a strong bond, she anointed him in the name of God the Mother and he in turn helped to heal her chakras (seven demons), something which he had learned after having travelled to the East. It was at Yeshua and Magdalene's own wedding where he turned water into wine, they had a daughter called Sarah who Magdalene escaped to France with following Yeshua's death.
- Another Gnostic path I came across believed she had no human birth but was Sophia come down in human form, just as the Logos came down as Yeshua. While the Logos returned to the heavens, Sophia remained incarnate as the Magdalene with the promise to keep returning in woman form upon her death until the Second Coming.
- Another believed her to have been a priestess of Asharah, whose temple was sacked and she was subjected to horrific abuse, SA and being cast out and nearly stoned to death until being saved by Yeshua.
- the Ecclesia Pistis Sophia have an oral tradition which was written down into a book by Tau Malachi which said she was born into a wealthy Jewish family, had great spiritual gifts but was forced to suppress them, was forced into marriage by her wicked father and then was attacked and assaulted. These "Sophians" believe that she accepted the spirit of Lilith into herself in order to survive and upon meeting Yeshua he healed her and she became the 'fulness' of the divine feminine with Eve and Lilith becoming one in her. She became Yeshua's "Holy Bride" and they had a son called Michael, rather than a daughter. The same story of her travelling to France occurs.
- Kaia Ra, author of the Sophia Code, claims to have channeled the spirit of the Magdalene who revealed her upbringing to her. That she was the daughter of wealthy parents who, as opposed to her origins in the Ecclesia Pistis Sophia, decided to nurture their daughter's spiritual gifts, that she was given lessons at her home but also travelled with her father to various places and connected with many faces of the divine feminine. She meets a fellow priestess, Mother Mary, who becomes like a second mother to her. She meets Yeshua and joins him on his mission of revealing gnosis but she is not beneath him in any way, it is very much a co-equal journey they go on but in the patriarchal society he is the one who is elevated. She and Mother Mary travel to France after Yeshua's death.
There are probably more that I've forgotten and sadly most of the websites I used to come across in the 00's are now lost.
But all of these stories have shaped my relationship with the Magdalene in some way. Parts I've agreed with, others that don't sit right with me. I don't know if we'll ever know the full truth. Even the ancient texts can only tell us so much, being written decades if not over a hundred years after the Magdalene lived and not even in the language those who knew them would have spoken.
The "canonised" gospels tell us that the Magdalene was the first to see Yeshua after his death. For me that at least speaks of his importance to her. His wife? His best friend? His co-preacher and partner in ministry? Personally I don't think it matters, it speaks of the same thing. Love. He loved her. Whether that love was romantic or platonic or something else, it was love and respect and the deepest trust.
They also tell us that she supported him and the men by her means, implying she was very wealthy, and yet she is not mentioned in relation to any man, neither as daughter or wife of mother. She is simply the Magdalene, ie from Magdala, a fishing village. The name also means Tower, which gives an image of strength and earnest faith.
Luke and Mark both say that Yeshua healed Magdalene of seven demons. I find it interesting how this event takes place off page, as opposed to a lot of other miracles we see Yeshua perform. For me this implies it was a rather intimate healing session between the two of them rather than one the public or disciples witnessed. But this could have been either some sort of exorcism as depicted in the Miracle Maker, or a healing of her mental and spiritual health with something similar to chakra healing as was believed by my Gnostic friend.
Interestingly the gospels do not say that she was the woman who anointed Yeshua's feet and head, this seems to have been either Mary of Bethany or the unnamed 'sinful' woman and it doesn't really make sense why the writers would name Magdalene specifically later but not state it to be her here. But given there is contradictions on where this happened as well as who did it, I don't think it's a stretch for anyone to still believe the Magdalene did anoint him herself at some point.
And then you get to the Gnostic gospels and the apocryphal texts and these just elevate the Magdalene even further when she was clearly already an important figure before. The Gospel of Philip connects her to Sophia and says that Yeshua would kiss her often and the disciples were jealous that he "loved her more than them". The Gospel of Thomas has Yeshua refusing to heed Peter's request to send Mary away as "females are not worthy". In The Dialogue of the Savior, it is said that she "spoke this utterance as a woman who understood everything." In the Pistis Sophia, the Magdalene is constantly questioning and offering up her own visions to Yeshua who heaps tons of praise on her for her insight and says "You are more blessed than all women on earth, because you will be the fullness of fullness and the completion of completion." And again he becomes protective when Peter's sexism makes her afraid. And all of this culminates in her own Gospel, which very little remains but is so fascinating. In this text, it is the Magdalene who stands up and takes on Yeshua's role while the men weep in fear and loss of what to do. Peter voices that they all knew Yeshua loved her most among women and pleas for her to share her visions. Sadly most of what she shares with them is lost but what remains seems to be a vision of how the soul rose above the seven demons that struck her to its Higher Self. Peter and Andrew reject what she shares but Levi defends her.
What does all of this lead to for me in the end?
It leads me to see the Magdalene as any other goddess. As many have contracting legends and myths and origins, the same is true of Her. And to me she is a goddess, she is Zoe Sophia - the Divine Daughter - in a human form, an ascended master and high priestess. She is not the first or only instance of this, but she is the one I most connect with. Whatever the "true story" of who she was is irrelevant, at this point it's all these various beautiful legends that inspire the mind and spark the soul's ascension.
Many people focus on the Magdalene for her faith and devotion. Many focus on her "sacred marriage" to Jesus and see her as a figure of romantic and faithful love, as well as motherhood, as well as what intimate and potentially sexual spiritual experiences they may have had together.
For me, the Magdalene is a balance of dark and light. While many I see position her as just "Christ with a feminine face", or another form of Mother Mary as a loyal follower and caretaker, for me she has an energy and personality that is so unique to herself and separate from them. Though of course they are a huge part of her life and her story, I don't have either Yeshua or Mother Mary in my personal pantheon, and I don't believe it's necessary to in order to connect to the Magdalene. She was very much a powerful spiritual woman before she met either of them.
For me the Magdalene is passion, she is fire, she is strength and wisdom and courage. She is in no way passive, she is a constantly active eternal flame. She was not just a student receiving knowledge but also inspiring Yeshua and others around her, a seeker and dreamer, a spiritual shield maiden. I don't believe Jesus cast any demons out of her with a wave of his hand, I believe he taught her how to heal them herself. Because we all need help from time to time. I do believe she may have had traumatic experiences that impacted her mental health, this is something I very much connect with and feel her with me when I am at my lowest. She has met those demons and conquered them. And anyone who calls upon Her to protect them from demons, she will descend like a mother bear. The Magdalene is loyal but not submissive. Patient and caring but not meek and mild.
I do believe she loved Yeshua and was devoted to him, whether as a friend or lover it makes no difference, it was a powerful love. But while she called him Teacher out of respect, he revered her as a priestess just as much and they were fully equal. I do not believe as the Sophian Gnostics do that she subjugated herself before him. She was not his Holy Bride or Consort. Her relationship with Yeshua was her great love but not her only one. I believe she and Mother Mary loved each other as mother and daughter. I believe she had close and powerful friendships with female disciples such as Mary of Bethany and Salome. I also believe she had a daughter, Sarah, who may have been Yeshua's or not, but either way she would raise her as a single mother (with her community of friends). The Magdalene also loved God. In that, she is a goddess of divine love but in all its wonderful and various forms.
I felt compelled to write all this out for my own benefit as I've come to embracing the Magdalene back in path and my pantheon. Having tried my hardest to search around, most of those who claim to be Magdalene Priestesses all have their own beliefs about her and charge a fortune just to interact with someone looking for Her. In the end I felt called to save my time and money by trusting my own intuition and experience with her. I love having her back on my altar, only this time it's Cernunnos who sits opposite as the divine masculine. I respect Yeshua but he is not part of my faith and the Magdalene has told me that's okay.
Hail, Lady Magdalene. Blessed art thou.
#mary magdalene#long post is long#unverified personal gnosis#gnostic christian#filianism#goddess#mother goddess#holy daughter#divine feminine#déanism#lady sophia#christopaganism#zoe sophia
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Near-future, black mirror esque AU in which Nancy, stressed college student with loads of childhood trauma, gets recommended by her psychologist to get an emotional support robot. That's what they're called, yes. They're sold to very lonely people to pretty much look after them emotionally. Nancy has always hated the idea, and doesn't really like androids or robots of any kind. Plus, she thinks it's quite sad that she's so lonely she needs an android to keep her company. She also couldn't possibly afford it.
Her friend Steve, though, who hasn't seen her in a year despite living 15 minutes away (she has a tendency to isolate herself and use her studies as an excuse), got her one. It's a second-hand unit, a slightly older model that's seen several repair shops in the past, but it works, and it was half the price of a new one. He shows up to her apartment with the box, looking smug and proud of himself. If anything, Nancy feels insulted.
She doesn't touch the box for a few weeks, and doesn't get rid of it either, because her studies take her so much time, she can't bring herself to keep her apartment clean. When her mother visits and sees the mess she's living in, with a perfectly functional android willing to help her, she finally caves, and as soon as she's alone, she decides to see if this thing can at least help her clean up.
It surprises her that it looks so... human. Its skin is soft and warm, with all the natural imperfections of a human's skin. Same as her hair. She's dressed in old worn-out clothes, and she curls into herself, in fetal position, inside the box. Only the button under her skin on the back of her neck reveals her as an android. Nancy reads the instructions, presses there for 10 seconds, and waits.
Or she planned to wait - eight seconds in with Nancy's fingers pressed on that spot, and the android's eyes flew open. She cried out, screambled out of the box and looked around, breathing heavily and hugging herself. Her eyes fix on Nancy, look her up and down with a frown, and asks:
"Who are you?"
Nancy opens her mouth to reply, then looks down at the instructions, hoping they'd say something about this kind of scenario, and that her new robot didn't go rogue and try to kill her.
"Wait, are those my instructions?" The robot asked. She looked down. "I really don't mean to complain about my living situation going from extremely fucked to simply fucked, but that is not my original box. Mine was smaller, and it had a bunch of little dots on the side. Did they sell me again?"
The instructions said nothing about this possibility, so Nancy decided it was time to improvise.
"I... my friend got you at a garage sale, I think."
"Oh. Well, that is low, even for me," the robot said. She rubbed the back of her neck. "Should my neck hurt this much?"
Nancy blinked.
"Shouldn't you know that?"
"Honestly, I don't even know what levels of pain are normal for me. It always hurts just a little bit somewhere, like, right now, my whole spine really hurts." She laughs. "At least I think it's supposed to feel like pain? I don't think we're wired to feel pain, exactly, I mean, that would be just sadistic. Talk anti-natalism to me. But I swear this spot right here just feels really really bad. Or maybe it's anthropocentric to... perceive it as pain, don't you think? It's very existentialist, actually, the whole... perceiving thing - I bet Berkeley wrote something about it, at some point, but I haven't read him in ages."
"You read books?"
"What? Oh. Oh, uh... I - I think I'm offline? Like, I don't have access to the database, so I kinda have to do it the old-fashioned way if I want to learn somethin," she said. "It's cool, though! I like reading a lot."
"...Okay. So, um... here it says your model is..."
"Robin," the android said. Nancy looked up.
"I'm sorry?"
"That's my name," she said. "I came up with it, I - I thought it sounded nice. Do you like it?"
Nancy stared at this... thing, a million thoughs coursing through her head. The first one was a newfound understanding of her low price.
She made a movement with her head that could be understood as both a shake and a nod at the same time.
"Yeah, yeah, sure" she said, brows knit together. What the hell did Steve get her into? "It's... nice."
"Oh, thank God, because Mom and Dad hated it."
"Mom and...?"
"My first owners - Richard and Melissa, I always called them Mom and Dad. They... they, uh, they hated that, too."
Jesus Christ.
"So... Robin," Nancy said. "I was wondering if you could help me put away some of my things while I study."
"Oh! Yeah, yeah, yeah, sure." She stood there, eyes wandering, around, until they fell on Nancy's bookshelf "Holy shit, you have Dostoyevski! Is it in Russian?"
Nancy blinked, opened her mouth, took a step back and shook her head. Robin was already striding towards her bookself, tracing the spines of books with her fingers.
"Actually, why don't you read after you clean this up?"
Robin turned to see her, eyes wide and a growing smile, like a kid in a candy shop.
"I - I can read all of this?"
Nancy was going to kill Steve.
She shrugged and shook her head.
"Sure," she said. "After you clean this mess."
"Aye aye, cap!" Robin chirped, making a quick salute with her hand and getting to work.
Nancy was, for certain, going to murder Steve for making her responsible for this... thing. There was something wrong in her system, and that was very much obvious. She looked down at the instructions manual - surely there would be a way to turn her off for the night. She wouldn't want Robin to murder her in her sleep, or worse - wake her up at 4 am to talk about books.
Or she could just tell her to shut up. She was a robot, anyway. It's not like she could feel anything.
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The image of Percy trying to be innocent about the whole thing then his mom taking advantage of the situation to hang out with her friends is fun
“And that’s how I ended up in Hell… and also why I was late for dinner.”
Raising a demigod always led to the most… interesting reasons for her son being home late and covered in quite literally the gods only knew what (and it probably said something about how crazy their lives were that “My dog kidnapped me and took me to hell” was the best case scenario for Percy being missing she had heard since her baby had turned twelve) but Sally Jackson was sure she had never seen her little boy so… embarrassed. Percy had led an army, had stood tall in the face of the gods themselves, had bested a titan nearly single-handedly and yet now his face was bright red as he looked down at his battered sneakers as he dug the toe of his shoe into the carpet.
It was adorable, though she wouldn’t say it out loud. The poor kid looked like he had already been through enough today without adding the mortification of his mother pinching his cheeks and calling him sweet on top of it.
“I’m sure they’ve seen worse than a hellhound, sweetheart,” okay, maybe she could add some parental embarrassment at least enough for him to look at her with narrowed eyes for the pet name instead of looking like he simultaneously wanted to die on the spot and was planning how he would never die at all to avoid the afterlife. “And you weren’t this torn up about that surprise trip to your uncle’s.”
Percy scrunched his nose. “Their guarded is full of Medusa statues if anything Mrs. O’Leary was doing them a favor. But…” he sighed and let his head fall forward, the closest to shame Sally had seen on him since he had accidentally broken the cabinet when he was thirteen. “They’re just doing their jobs.”
“So, technically, was your uncle.”
That earned her an eye roll which Sally took as a win. “Okay, yeah, but like the gods deserve it. Shut up, you know you do!” The last part was directed at the ceiling after a rather irritated clap of thunder on an otherwise clear day. After a silent staring contest with the ceiling light Percy rolled his eyes and continued, “They didn’t do anything or expect anything from me just from being alive, and Ms Penny and Mr. Greg adopted Nico even though they knew he was a demigod at the time and… they’re nice. Ms. Lily didn’t even yell at me even though we messed a bunch of stuff up and made their job a lot harder because they had to work around the sleeping dog the size of a truck. Like Ha— Uncle threatened to throw me in the dungeon again, and we wrecked one jewel plant, but Ms. Lily gave me a muffin. A muffin, mom!”
If Sally could kill Gabe again, she would. If she could march onto Olympus and shake the gods who had made her baby so unused to kindness that simply not being yelled at had completely turned his world on its head until they saw the boy instead of the hero, she would. But Sally Jackson was just a mortal for all she could see clearly, so instead of screaming at that clear sky until her voice could drown out thunder she smiled and cupped Percy’s cheeks, lifting his face until he was looking at her.
“First, we’re going to go to the store and get as many ingredients as we can. Then you are going to help me make enough cookies for the gate and the desk while we talk about how something are put of the hands of even big scary demigods. Once all that is done and Mrs. O’Leary sleeps off your little adventure then you can take some cookies down to hell with you and give everyone a proper apology, okay?”
For the first time since Percy came home that day he smiled at her, still a little sheepish but honest all the same. “Blue cookies?”
“Of course blue cookies. What are we, animals?”
Percy’s laugh was the sweetest sound she had ever heard.
#the elf talks#pjo#hells belles#timeline what timeline#my boy has so many issues with authority even when that authority is nice to him#particularly when authority is nice to him
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I HAVE RAMBLINGS ABOUT TYT
Nico and Apollo def have geek out sessions over greek mythology like they are NERDS and Apollo def grew up having snippets of the Iliad and Odyssey read to him so the moment Nico showed even the slightest of interest in Greek mythology as a kid, best believe Apollo used that to warm up to him 😭🙏
ALSO I can just picture little Apollo curled up next to Leto as she read him all these different poems (I'd like to think she read to him in Greek and while Apollo wasn't completely fluent in Greek, he def understood it very well but then he lost it 😞)
Also, Leto definitely called Apollo sunshine, and that's why he calls his own kids that. Every time Apollo would ask why he was named Apollo, Leto would scoop him up and say it was bc he was the light of her life, and Apollo is the god of light, so ofc she named her pride and joy after the god of light
Anyways whatever u do don't think about sixteen year old Apollo drunk (and probably high) out of his mind, curled up in a hotel room that he hardly spent any time in wishing he could've spent more time with his mother before his father whisked him away and into the spotlight :(
UGH AND DON'T THINK ABOUT APOLLO READING THE ILIAD TO HIMSELF WHENEVER HE MISSES LETO
clearly I have very strong feelings towards the relationship Apollo has with his mother and the fact that he should've had more time with her but bc he was in the spotlight all the time as a kid he didn't get to :(
Wait, oh my god, did Apollo go to his own mother's funeral?? Bc like Will was in middle school when she died, right?? So would have he trusted Will enough to be alone in the house for a few days, or did he just not go?? And how many times did Apollo look at his sixteen year old son and realize that the neglect Zeus put him through (ignoring Apollo's very clear addiction in favor of making him famous ofc) was definitely abuse. HOW MANY TIMES DID APOLLO HAVE TO REALIZE THAT HE GREW UP TOO FAST EVERY TIME HE LOOKED AT WILL??? 😭😭😭
ALSO ALSO IDK IF IT WAS INTENTIONAL BUT HAVING APOLLO, THE PROTECTOR OF YOUNG BOYS, BE THE ONE TO RESCUE NICO FROM AN ABUSIVE SITUATION AND GAVE HIM THE RESOURCES HE NEEDED TO HEAL???? AMAZING
I think Kayla def tried to teach everyone that Will was friends with archery. Just bc archery is severely underrated 😞
(Only Piper managed to actually hit the target, and Jason somehow sliced his hand open??? He has a very faint scar now, and if someone asks about it while he's with Leo, then Leo will come up with the most ridiculous stories instead of telling them the truth 😭)
Also, I think you've mentioned it before, but did either Darren or Kayla try to teach him archery? Idk but the mental image is very funny and it probably took him a plethora of tries to hit the target and Kayla was probably so proud
ANYWAYS IM SO SORRY THIS IS SO LONG IM DOING THIS INSTEAD OF WRITING MY CREATIVE WRITING ASSIGNMENT (I love that class but also UGHHHHH)
HAVE A GOOD DAY 🫶
FIRST OF ALL THIS JUST MAKES ME SO HAPPY TO SEE LIKE AHHSDFHLSDFJ OMG TYT RAMBLES
the whole part about apollo and leto... YES YES YESLKJDSFASDF AHHH apollo was 100% raised on greek mythology and he does have various copies of the iliad and the odyssey and other myths, an old worn-down version from his mom which had been passed down to him in her will, and a bunch of fancy pretty ones bc if he ever sees a pretty copy of the iliad or the odyssey he WILL buy it.
i think that he did go through a phase where like,,, he was just completely uninterested in that sort of stuff, considered it childhood and whatever. but i think that eventually, esp when taking in will, he went through what i'll call the "dumb and poetic try-hard intellectual" phase where he actually did read through the whole thing, read through various translations, annotated some copies, attempted to learn greek (modern greek, not ancient greek lmao), and just in general getting in touch with his heritage bc he realizes, watching will who's so small and resembles him so much, that those memories of him and his mom were actually some of his happiest moments of childhood, not annoying ones. and so he does try to replicate that, despite having not left his family on the best of terms *cough* really bad onesSLKJDF
and as someone who had a parent speak to them in their language, knew how to understand that language, but refused to learn it themselves bc it was boring, there's gonna be such an intense regret there from apollo, thinking that he should've taken the opportunity to learn when he could. he definitely would still understand bits and pieces, maybe a few quotes that were his or his mom's favorites, but it's just a lot harder to learn a language once you've grown up ://
as for the funeral, he did not go, because he still wasn't on speaking terms with his father, and well,,, yeah. he didn't want to cause a scene, also didn't want to tell will much about it, but i do think leto left some things to apollo in her will that apollo had to fight pretty hard to actually get sent to him
and GOD the emotions of apollo watchign will grow up... AHSDFJ ILL NEVER GET OVER IT like its hard to accept but he eventually does recognize it. and it's painful but it also feels good to know that that'll never happen. to watch his son at 16 spend his afternoon doing homework, and at 17 having a healthy relationship with his best friend, and at 18 applying to colleges... it definitely makes apollo proud, but it also breaks his heart a bit. because he couldn't imagine ever forcing the childhood that he had on his son, and he has to admit that his father hadn't felt the same sense of protection or care, and that even though his mom did, she wasn't in a position to do anything that would truly help :/
ALSO ALSO IDK IF IT WAS INTENTIONAL BUT HAVING APOLLO, THE PROTECTOR OF YOUNG BOYS, BE THE ONE TO RESCUE NICO FROM AN ABUSIVE SITUATION AND GAVE HIM THE RESOURCES HE NEEDED TO HEAL???? AMAZING
KSDJFLKASJDFSD PARALLELS AHHSDHFHDSFJ no bc that actually just makes me so happyyyyy like yes apollo is a good father yes he always has been and yes he always will be!!!! to literally anyone who needs it. i love him so much. can you believe when i was first outlining this fic i was like "hm, yeah, he plays an important role, but like i'll make sure not to make him a major character or anything"
now we're here. apollo is probably like. the third most major character after nico and will. in greatest of luxuries, at least.
kayla absoluTELY tried to train everyone in archery, and apollo's trying to avoid it bc he's trying not to think back to 2002 when darren tried to teach him archery, and kayla has the exact same instruction style bc darren had taught her, and hes actually better than will and will's friends bc he's learned before, but he fails on purpose bc the memories are too painful because THEY WERE HAPPY-
sorry pollen is possessing me! it will never leave
ANYWAYS IM SO SORRY THIS IS SO LONG IM DOING THIS INSTEAD OF WRITING MY CREATIVE WRITING ASSIGNMENT (I love that class but also UGHHHHH)
this is SO real bc i am responding to this to avoid doing my lit essaysdlkjf
THANK YOU FOR THE ASK
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5/7/2024 - 5/14/2024
Went down to NOLA/Mississippi (or as I like to call it: "The Big 'Sip") for a family graduation + Mother's Day combo for the third year in a row. I think we don't have any other imminent graduations on the horizon, so I think this is the end of that accidental tradition.
First few days were comically hot and humid. When even the locals are like, "yeah, it's been pretty brutal this week...," I don't feel bad for complaining. Every time you step outside it's like walking into an oven, except you're also soaking wet.
My father-in-law is for all intents and purposes a minor trickster deity made manifest. He has this inflatable black mannequin he kept hiding places, and it scared the living fuck out of me about four times before I had to hide it myself.
Andrew's family rescued this tiny little chihuahua mix named Decker (as in "Black & Decker", the tool company), and he is incomprehensibly small and sweet and pathetic. I do not understand how I share 84% of my DNA with a creature like that.
Andrew grabbed a lizard for me and was very brave when it bit him.
Went to one of the sketchiest bookstores of my life, located inside a woman's house in the middle of a residential neighborhood. Just floor-to-ceiling books in every nook and cranny. She was extremely chatty and offered - though we declined - some free kittens the store cat just had.
Speaking of books, by the end of this trip I had bought 18 new books, and had to get real creative to Tetris them back into my backpack for the flight home.
Andrew only made me pump gas once, but it did suck and I did complain the whole time.
We watched The Iron Claw because Andrew's family's movie prop business rented them a bunch of vehicles and background props for the movie. I was the only one who liked it.
Every meal was stellar, as always, but the Pho I had yesterday was the real standout.
My extremely particular at-home sleeping habits make any other arrangement unbearable, and I don't know how to un-condition myself from requiring four weighted blankets every night.
The return from a brand new rental car with all the latest bells and whistles to my 12-year-old jalopy is always so violently jarring. A real, "damn bitch, I live like this?" moment every time.
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If I had a nickel for every time someone made Lumine a mother, Id have three nickels which isn't a lot but it's funny that it happened thrice.
Jokes aside, could you elaborate on Lumine being a mother?
Please don't feel forced to answer this ask.
HI I LIKE TO TALK ABOUT MY THOUGHTS SO BET!!
so this idea is partly because i’m in a constant state of “aww babies” and partly because i really like to hurt my own feelings with angst
so my thoughts will be kinda unorganized with this but please bear with me
so cause i get a little obsessive with my hyperfixations and works (fics) i need to know everything about the background of characters so i can really understand them to make them more interesting
and the twins don’t have a whole lotta canon lore on them, like yeah they have the alien thing going for them and the implications that they are immortal beings that isn’t really touched on but totally should be
so i really made up a whole lot of their background from theories i both read and came up with mixed with a bunch of headcanons because it’s canon until proven otherwise
so for lumine being a mom:
her and aether’s world was full of immortal people and was destroyed either by war or some form of apocalypse or something so they travel to other worlds maybe trying to find one that replicates the homey feel they had when they lived on their home planet
i imagine they were rather young, as in young for their people vs young as in our/teyvat standards. to me that’s between 500-700 years old, and their aging/maturing is sorta similar to elves from dnd only they continue to live until they fall in battle, vaguely Highlander style only they don’t have to be beheaded to die, they can die from a stab wound or something
but i imagine that they found their peace/new home at one point, not exactly early in their travels, but much much earlier than teyvat if that makes sense? like, they were traveling for at least a few hundred years before reaching this planet
so finding the similar feeling in this new world they land in, the two decide to make it their new home
now this is because i like angst and there is nothing more tragic than losing your child imo
but lumine totally fell for this person on this planet, and despite them being mortal, this was the twins new home so she pursues this romance with them and they end up having a single child (daughter and i call her Étoile because that means star and it kinda sorta fits the light names of the twins) together
well the both of them (étoile and the partner) are mortal, so lumine watches them grow older until they eventually die of natural causes (and she probably has grandkids so that line kinda continues on that planet) and she hates the feeling of losing them, especially her baby, so they (the twins) end up leaving that planet
this starts their “we’re only here to observe” thing so they continue to travel from world to world, still searching for that feeling of home in each one, but deciding to stick to themselves instead of getting involved with others because that only ends up hurting them in the end
but yeah, plus i feel like it adds more to her and paimon’s relationship (i chose lumine as the traveler when i started playing so to me she’s the canon traveler, and i use that in my fics)
because yeah, they’re best friends and have a big sis/little sis relationship, but if lumine also sees aspects of her daughter when her child was young in paimon then it adds more ✨flavor✨ to them
plus paimon does act sorta childish, like a talkative toddler yk? but it would add to her fun lil protective attitude towards the mysterious flying pixie creature that is paimon
i also think it adds more potential and character to lumine in fics because she probably really loves children and despite the pain behind the memories of her daughter, she wouldn’t want to forget her, so seeing bits of her (common traits in children) live on in other children kinda wooshes her a little?
but yeahhhh~
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OKAY, hear me out before reading the text below: this blog of mine is just a place, where I can see my progress in many of things, and writing in english is one of them. the deal is - english is not my native language, and my way of writing can look very bad.
if you decide to read my little sketch, firstly - good luck; and secondly, if when you see some dumb mistakes - feel free to comment because learning stuff is fun!
(also I'm like probably need to do a disclaimer or something like this, but I don't know how :D)
well, it's just fluff (?), without any triggers and just something that was in my head for a while. also I'm using the real names on the dream team in this text. actually, all my thoughts slowly became a whole au (this is the right word for it, right?), so if I will be really confident, maybe I write something else....
UGH this is again a super long text, I'M SORRY.
imagine that you've been friends with «dream team» for an almost a three years.
originally you were an employee on a mr. beast team, something that others would call an errand boy (well, errand girl in your case). but despite your small position in a whole team, everyone was simply in love with you. you just were a little shining star, that everybody adored. and beside that, you knew how to do your job. and by one of these hard-working days, you've meet sapnap.
there were a small pause between shooting for a new challenge video, where nick was one of the judges, and it happend that you both had a chance to chat for a little bit. you two find in each other someone nice, almost like a soulmate. when you too start to speak about different topics, including hobbies and favorite things, something just clicked. after a shooting, y'all just spontaneously decided to go for a walk. you both just can't stop talking, and after a hour or so, you find yourself on a basketball court. the day slowly becoming an evening, there only a few people around, and you two with beer cans just lazily playing basketball.
and after that day your life just start change entirely.
after sapnap you've met sunshine with name karl, and then dream, george, even quackity. the boys was also amazed with your warm personality and you all pretty fast become great buddies. you start to show in theirs instagram photos, twitter posts, stories. you've slowly become an important member of their group. staying for a movie night, cook for them, give a ride on your car, making birthday presents, spending time in video games, and eventually joining the streams.
to be honest, chat was kinda aggressive by the first time and full of comments like "omg why are they even let this girl to join, she's just ruining all the fun" and bunch of other not-so-nice words. guys were super sorry that you have to deal with all this hate, but you honestly won't making a big deal out of that. you just continue to show up from time to time, and slowly but surely people realize that your "boring" side was actually a "super caring" side.
and only after this realization everybody understand how cool actually your character resonates with sometimes childish characters of the rest of the group. the memes start to full the internet, boys start jokingly addresses to you like "sweet mother of ours", and you were very audible and visible cringing at the name, but they're just unstoppable.
and after a two and a half years of your friendship, after george finally gets a visa and clay does a face reveal, four of you guys finally moved together.
and that simply become a golden era of your friendship.
you spend mornings with george, when you get ready for work and this man with no sleep schedule gives you company. at the moment that you start making a breakfast, this man just magically appears with his cute puppy eyes, and after the few times when your plate was getting empty for about a fifteen seconds, you just start to cook for you two. imagine: dark room with only one working lamp, you both eating some puffy pancakes, drinking something warm, chatting and silently giggling. it's a little foggy outside, and almost absolute silence. sounds really comforting, does it not? after you finished eating, you give george a small kiss on his head, maybe mess up with his hair and beg him to get some rest.
the days fly by really fast, when you making stuff with dream. join the stream for a moment? sure. what about the new idea for the video/song? tell me everything. maybe you want to go to the shopping together? get in my car, clay. you freely can go to his room when silence in your head gets too loud. often you just knock on his room door shyly, and ask if you can sit on the bed while dealing with work. and he never refuse. also you absolutely love to draw him in the moments when he really focused on something, maybe make him a few more knitted hats or something cute, but stupid. and he absolutely melts at every single touch. you just need to tell him that everything is okay, and he always can find a support in his friends. and he's so thankful for this.
and finally, you want the evenings to never end because you spend them with sapnap. he don't want to show it, but you just see it anyways - he cares about you. of course, that doesn't mean that other guys don't care, but sapnap do it in his own way and you really appreciate it. almost every evening he casually walks into your room, and if he sees how tired you look because of the work, all his appearance softens immediately. with his silent, raspy voice he asks how do you feel. and if your answer not satisfying enough, nick just casually says that he's going to wait you in the car. and that means - this evening going to be awesome. you both have no clue what are you going to do tonight, but that's just more fun, right? basketball court, just like in the old times? eating junk food in the car, while chatting and shouting the songs? skateboarding park, when nick trying to impress you, but just stupidly falls and now you need to bandage all his wounds, while you just can't stop from laughing? (he's trying to act offended, but inside he's all fluff, believe me).
but sometimes you decide to hang out in the house. sapnap picks up some random film, brings more pillows and blankets, you cook (or order) snaks, and you both just simply chilling together after a long day. and I don't need to tell that almost every time the rest of the group decide to join. maybe it's even spontaneously become a movie night? who knows. you can't even blink, and it's 3am already, the third movie silently playing on the back, all the boys sleeping and barely audibly snore. and only you stubbornly want to wait until the credits. and the movie finally ends, you trying to clean up a little, while you judge the main character in your mind. when you come back to the sleeping kingdom, you can't help but smile at the view of three big men just calmly sleeping, and unconsciously trying to hug something. you definitely take a few photos, and when you want to go to your room, suddenly dream wakes up and mid-sleep reach up to you, whispering that he want to cuddle. your heart was not ready for this, and you just can't say "no" to him.
and when you slowly falling into sleep, while warm big hands carefully hugs you, you just think to yourself - oh, how extremely lucky you are.
well, maybe you can skip the next day at work.
...you can't miss how nick and george all morning going to scream that they're absolutely-for a hundred percent-for sure-definitely didn't hug each other all night.
#dsmp au#dsmp#dsmp shipping#georgenotfound#dreamwastaken#sapnap#dsmp fanart#dtqk#dtqk x reader#dsmp x reader#dsmp x y/n#dsmp x you#dream x reader#dream team x reader#dreamwastaken x reader#georgenotfound x reader#gogy#georgenotfound x y/n#sapnap x reader#sapnap x you#sapnap x y/n
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hey!! i love your blog so much your takes are *chefs kiss*
i saw an Amazing post a few months ago where someone laid out a really cool plan for a silmarillion tv show and i cant find it again. it haunts my every waking moment. i think i saw it on your blog so i figured id ask if you knew it.
Either way, have a great day!
(note: I got this ask several thousand years ago, and am answering it now because I asked my roommates if I should write something serious tonight, or something ridiculous, or read a book; and they said ridiculous.) (note 2: I wrote the above several days ago. I'm posting at 6.5k words) (note 3: I'm going to pretend this is a deliberately timed gift to @thelordofgifs for their latest fic updates, which were bullet points of heartfelt and sober compelling canon divergence. this...is bullet points of [heartfelt? compelling?] lunacy. I hope you might enjoy it.)
Are you thinking of this, the "Supernatural but make it Silmarillion lore, and also women" show of my dreams? (Me, approaching the Tolkien estate with an offer for the rights to the Silmarillion: I swear, I will ONLY show the First Age in limited flashbacks. Everything else will be the characters as they are at least 10,000 years later, maybe even with an active framing device to identify them as modern interpretations of the characters...")
Oh huh, I forgot I thought a bunch more about that "teeechnically-not-AU" and never added it to that post. Regardless of whether it's the show you were thinking of, dear Anon:
one of the protagonists is definitely the reincarnation of Fëanor. Her name is Seraphina, which translates to something like "fiery divine being", bc her mom had a good sense of these things. They don't know this at first
her slightly older twin sister is Martha, named after their grandmother but it does mean the feminine of "master", because I spent at least an hour trying to translate any name Turin ever had into something reasonably modern and this is the best I could do (they also don't know about this reincarnation at first, ofc)
their father was killed by some sort of monster when they were babies so their mother took up monster-hunting ranging, etc. etc.
(the underground community of modern monster-hunters are called Rangers, in reference to the roaming heroes of old)
Seraphina, the Wild One(TM), ran away to go to college, where she double-majored in astrophysics and mechanical engineering and double-minored in linguistics and metallurgical engineering, and wrote an art history thesis. Martha, the Dutiful One(TM), stayed with their mother and kept ranging. They reunite when Martha shows up on Phina's doorstep because "Mom went on a hunting trip and hasn't been home in a few days", etc. etc.
the Bobby-style substitute parent should really, to (kind of) round this out, be a dwarf or hobbit. The full "Team Free Will" should represent all peoples of Arda... But I'm not making up OCs right now (yet)
a unifying legend of the Ranger community is that their unofficial network has been supported and guided for millennia by their cousins, the peredhel, Elrohir and Elladan, who quite simply never Chose and have been wandering the earth, saving people and hunting things, ever since their sister died. They don't NEED to Choose until they die, technically!
This is, in fact, true - or, it was. Until about 25 years ago, when [flips a coin] Elrohir married our heroes' mother, settled down into peaceful domesticity, and a few years later died dramatically to buy [throws a dart at a wheel of names] Laura and their children time to escape the whatever.
Laura knew about his profession and that he was older than he looked, but not his whole deal. She found that out later while vengefully hunting monsters...and never told her daughters.
The plot of Season 1 involves unravelling this mystery, including at some point meeting their elusive uncle Elladan (who has maybe gone a little mad with the sudden death of his twin? That'd be a fun season antagonist/arc/theme...dealing with grief...very topical!)
By the end of s1, all of the above have probably had a nice closure-giving(-ish) confrontation/conversation with Elrohir's ghost - who's been waiting in Mandos for his wife and/or brother despite Mandos's INCREASINGLY strident blandishments to stop acting like a cat in a doorway and choose - and Laura and Elladan are both dead in suitably dramatic circumstances.
...or, Elladan is. Apparently John Winchester didn't die until s2e1! So, what happens is:
- (earlier in the s1 finale episode, Laura, noticed something once or twice which her daughters didn't - saw a curl of smoke, seemed to be examining a McGuffin extra closely...)
- Laura has been mildly injured, and someone needs to guard a McGuffin or maybe a random innocent civilian caught up in this, so she stays behind while Phina and Martha go off to deal with whatever the actual big bad of the season is. Maybe a cult trying to sacrifice half-elves for some reason? Directed, though not personally managed, by whatever killed Elrohir in the first place, which is...I gotta figure an OC balrog? Like, not one of the big ones from canon. We'll just call her (Laura's) Bane henceforth.
- not long later, while Phina and Martha are fistbumping in the remains of the cult's hideout Seraphina maybe have used chemical explosives), or maybe discretely looting Elladan's body for useful weapons laying their uncle to rest, the scene cuts back to Laura
- she's pacing, patrolling. Ready for a fight. She senses something and goes even tenser, drawing her ancient sword. It glows softly blue - but this is no orc. Heavy footsteps, flickering shadows and firelight, maybe the sound of wings. We do not see the enemy, just a middle-aged woman in improvised combat gear with a pistol in one hand and a Gondolin-made sword in the other, and a look of iron determination and defiance. She pulls off the bandage on her arm, revealing that she'd faked her injury so the girls would leave her behind.
- "I knew it was you," she greets her old enemy, unflinching, as a faint reprise rings unnoticed in the Great Music. She moves to attack, met by a whip-crack and a flash of fire, and cut to black.
Season 2 starts where s1 ended, for Martha and Seraphina. They're almost back at their car (the beloved 1967 Chevy Shadowfax). Note: few times in s1, Phina has had strange visions or nightmares, never anything prophetic but once a good clue to defeating the MotW...
She reels with the force and horror of this one. Darkness, utter and choking, pierced eventually by a single desperate torch. A dark and empty hall where there should be life and light. Flickering firelight reveals blood on the floor...
She gasps, "Mom," and demands that Martha drive, drive, fucking drive faster already -
They're too late, of course. Laura is long-since dead.
...so, back to Monster of the Week, with additional focus on tracking down the Bane!
Seraphina's strange dreams and visions get more frequent, more memorable. Sometimes they're peaceful, full of beautiful Light. More often they're dark, or at least, dim - climbing strange, starlit mountains (finding a cousin of aconite which turns out to also be useful for defeating werewolves). Choking grief as her hand brushes the air just above a vibrant tapestry, too afraid to ruin it with touch. Fire in her throat as she shouts world-shaking words in a language she doesn't remember (she repeats them a moment later, fending off a corrupted wind-spirit, and it flinches even before Phina feels a burst of vicious, raging, burning strength.)
Seraphina is curious as hell and keeps pushing herself to learn more, see more. Do more. It's not just visions, eventually - she starts to read minds, here and there. She's always been a fidgeter, happiest with some petty creative task of wire and beads or yarn in her hands, but now she can swear that sometimes her craft supplies sing at times, directly surpassing her ears, and she can make things with quality, with power. A new-knitted scarf is sturdy as a gorget. Glass beads glow. The more Phina does, the more she's frustrated rather than satisfied - she knows she's missing something, and she HATES being ignorant. Being wrong.
Martha, always the responsible one, especially feeling the need to be so now that their mom has died, wishes she would stop. Wishes she wouldn't put herself, put both of them, in danger like this. Martha is literally game to fight an orc with her fists one on one, any day of the week; she's no stranger to a quick temper and impulsive action. But she grew up! Why can't her sister!
(Martha: [venting the above to a stranger in a bar or something. Meanwhile, Seraphina has found an medieval Songbook and is trying to, like, apply principals of Elvencraft to chemical engineering. more arguing ensues.])
Toward the end of the season, there's, idk, several murders at the site of a geothermal drilling experiment in the North Sea, and oh shit, Bane is trying to get something that came out of that drill shaft! Violent interrogation of some evil minions reveals that it's no less precious thing than a Silmaril! Our heroes read about those recently in some ancient tome! (Phina got a headache so bad, and a sense of being aflame, that she passed out.)
In the third-to-last episode of the season, they hunt the Silmaril to the unlucky random research facility to which it's been taken. Mundane authorities and/or scientists are already coveting it as a potential energy source, adding extra mooks...who mostly just die when Laura's Bane arrives. But our girls get to it just slightly faster. The jewel is in a jead-lined box. Phina has been increasingly consumed by single-minded focus on getting this thing; even as the Ban storms in all fire and darkness, she's furiously picking the lock. She flings back the lid; we see a shining gold-white jewel - and the Light consumes the screen.
The second-to-last episode starts with pure Light - then it fades to simple Mingling, as the Noldor hold a funeral for Miriel. They had rites for the fallen in their starlit home of old, when they knew no return. They are having a modified version now, knowing that in her weariness she will, at least, take a very long time; in the hope that it will help those who loved her move through their grief.
- young Fëanor (age 5ish), tears running down his cheeks, whispers to his father that he is sorry, so sorry he killed her. Finwë denies it fiercely, lovingly, and holds him tight. Indis approaches, seeking to offer comfort; Finwë sees her over Fëanor's head and, gratefully, shakes his head. She retreats.
- but in the next memory, it is Fëanor (age 10ish) who watches Finwë and Indis, as they move joyously in unison around their wedding dance floor. Someone says something to him, he responds bitterly.
- (I'm not sure exactly what narrative of Fëanor's life I want to construct here, but assume subsequent memories/short scenes include: dislike of half-siblings (ft. fear of loss/abandonment masked as superiority complex), finding genuine joy and contentment in craft, exploration, and Nerdanel & their children; Melkor & rising tensions with Fingolfin, the Silmarils, the sword Incident, banishment (ft. savage dislike of Valar), Finwë's death (the same memory that struck when Laura died!), the Oath, Alqualondë, the theft and burning of the ships...and Amrod...and shortly thereafter, Fëanor himself, in a rush that only wasn't suicide because he really thought he could bust in and kill a Vala right up until he realized he absolutely could not do that.)
- (very fast final montage of key events post death, only snapshots, maybe styled as tapestry seen from Vairë's Halls? Fingolfin, crowned, raising Maedhros from a bow and embracing him; the glorious hosts and castles of the Noldor, Dagor Bragollach, Fingolfin's death, Doriath & Celegorm, Caranthir, Curufin's deaths, Sirion & Amras's death (both with the Silmaril evading them in the background), Morgoth's defeat by Host of the West with Eärendil shining far overhead, the final attack/theft, Maedhros's death, Maglor flinging the third into the sea and collapsing)
- camera close on Seraphina's face as she opens her eyes. They are shining with Light. She says, "Fuck."
FINAL EPISODE OF S2 STARTS WITH:
- a few second earlier: Martha sees from across the room as Phina opens the box and a joyous Light shines forth, and her sister collapses. The Silmaril falls and rolls.
- Martha doesn't have time to see where it rolls, because she has to fight the monster that killed both her parents. We've seen Laura's Bane in the shape of a woman with cavern-black hair and fiery eyes a few times before, and when it killed Laura and Elrohir, we glimpsed much more. But 2 episodes ago was the first time we saw it in all its terrible, burning darkness. The building is falling apart around it. There were a couple security guards and a scientist here; they're dead within moments.
- like her mother, Martha started out with a gun and a sword. She quickly gives up on the gun - it IS a special magic gun, but she's just better with a sword. She's snarking at the monster as she fights, because this is a gritty urban fantasy show so she's going to die, but by Eru she's going to die with sarcasm on her lips.
- the Bane's whip finally catches her around the wrist. It's not clear if it's the pain of the break or the burn that makes her drop her sword. The Balrog steps over it and grabs her by the throat. Darkness enwraps her, the searing, choking claws and the all-encompassing wings and the swallowing of her vision -
- Light pierces it like a blade. The Balrog falls back, dropping Martha to the floor.
- there stands her sister, Silmaril raised, almost glowing herself with its Light. Her eyes blaze with the particularly fiery Light that was always Fëanor's.
- Power in her voice, in English she says, "I am Seraphina Elrohiel [cool epithet she's picked up as a hunter]"; in the most traditional lisping Quenya she adds, "and I am Fëanáro Finwë-Curufinwë." English again: "I wrought this jewel five ages of the world ago…and to be honest, I don't really know what I can do with it now."
- - (the soundtrack crescendos, the Music crescendos; unseen, all around Arda and beyond, beings tuned into the Great Song of Ëa know that Fëanor once again holds a Silmaril, and go oh, shit, fuck!!)
- she smiles, fey and burning. "Do you think it's a good idea to stay and find out?"
- Laura's Bane flees with a snarl.
- Martha gets to her knees, and no further. She's panting, still catching her breath, bleeding and bruised and burned, and staring up at her incandescent sister(?).
- Seraphina (who is, has always been, Fëanáro Curufinwë) stays standing and glaring for a moment more, making sure the enemy has truly gone. Then -
- - [note: it came up, in their hasty recent recent research into the Silmarils while chasing them, that they are blessed such that evil hands can't touch them. they'd hoped this would be protection against the Bane, if they got there too late to stop it]
- - [note: in the very very brief memory-views of Maedhros and Maglor's last moments, it was clear that their grips on the Silmarils were agony]
- Phina falls to her knees, Silmaril dropping from her hand without protest. Once again it rolls offscreen, glow faded but still bright. All force of presence gone, she cradles her burned hand and sobs in agony and irreparable loss, not to mention the sheer overwhelming experience of everything.
- older sister instincts (again: despite the fact that they're twins) gets Martha moving when nothing else did. Still not actually sure what just happened, she crawls forward and hugs her sister.
...then they get out of there. Martha picks the Silmaril up carefully with a piece of cloth and puts it back in the lead-lined box, and Phina carries the box. For the rest of the episode, they hunt down Laura's Bane before it can escape them utterly - unless it tries to come back and get the Silmaril while they're still off-balance, which is entirely possible! Either way, they kill it so dead!
Season ends with the two of them sitting in a dingy motel room, or maybe back in the Shadowfax [car], staring at the Silmaril box. Martha says, "So...what do we do with this?" Phina says, "We find out what the hell happened to the other two!"
IN SEASON THREE...
...I stop having particularly coherent ideas for what happens, is what happens in season three
honestly, I was originally conceiving of this as 5 seasons a la Supernatural didn't it have a great show finale in 2010? so great. thank goodness they didn't make 10 more seasons for some canonically godforsaken reason. But Fëanor retrieving even just one Silmaril would so kick off an s4 level of divine intervention and incipient apocalypse...
I dunno, or maybe they CAN have a full season of Monster of the Week plus arcing plot which is half standard hunting, half various supernatural entities tracking them down either to steal the Silmaril or to kill Fëanor (again) for her many crimes?
They retrieve 1 Silmaril that season, while evading, idk, I guess Sauron is our Lilith equivalent... And it WOULD be fun to have s4 start with Martha kicking open Mandos's doors (she's holding 2 Silmarils; she can kick open whatever doors she wants) and demanding her obnoxious sister back...
(We COULD do a thing where the Valar deliberately put Fëanor back asap, but lbr they...would probably rather not, even if they need her alive to do certain things. On the other hand, if they did, what a fun conflict for her! On the third hand, SOMEONE has to Lúthien the other's Beren at least once - not that Martha is singing. She's going more for the 'threatens Ainur with swords' side of her heritage.)
(That WOULD create a fun 'Martha has been doing increasingly badass and angsty shit offscreen (while Seraphina was dead)' scenario that could lead smoothly into some flashbacks about what Martha was doing before the show started - namely, increasingly badass (and angsty) shit while Seraphina was in college...)
Because in terms of focus, the first 2 seasons are a little more about Seraphina. Having not Ranged for a while, she's more the audience's pov character to start, and then the big plotty drama is focussed on her in s2...and in s3, as they hunt the next Silmaril and she adjusts to being... That is, Fëanor adjusts to being...
She was Fëanor for a MUCH longer time than she's been Seraphina, but she's been Seraphina more recently and kinda more...vividly? She hasn't fully processed being Fëanor. Her hröa is human (and female-shaped and human-female-gendered, and elves don't define gender the same way and don't have gendered pronouns at all, so she's sticking with 'she/her' and it's not a big deal), and her fëa has been acting human, so her memory capacity is still mostly human, as are her reflexes, her need for sleep, etc... She's getting better, but it takes time.
But boy has this enhanced ALL of Seraphina's natural attention-seeking, forward-leaping, fight-starting, prideful, self-centered Protagonist(TM) behavior!
Which is driving Martha CRAZY, all the moreso because there's reason for it now. Aside from the fact that even with no memory of her past life, Seraphina was always brilliant, while Martha was just...normal at best. Clumsy and un-witty except with a weapon in her hand. Prone to sulking and shyness. Downright unlucky, while the universe seems to shower blessings on her sister.
Even when Fëanor is trying not to start a fight, she's so condescending. to her sister who is a mere mortal Man. Having been one for 25-odd years - still being one, in fact - Fëanor has lost much of her suspicion of Man as an usurping species (it was never really about Men anyway). But she's SO condescending.
(Martha IS her sister, still. Martha can hold the Silmaril without the Oath pushing Seraphina to burning wrath, because she is Fëanor's kin.)
(Though "Fëanor's kin" was only ever a stand-in for, roughly, "people Fëanor could trust to temporarily hold a Silmaril because he knew they'd give it back to him instantly if he asked." So, as the rift deepens between then, as she grows paranoid again...)
...returning to the point above: as Seraphëanor steps up as Person Who Can Explain Advanced Supernatural Shit, audience pov connects a little more with Martha. Also because Fëanor's radius of destruction is really fun to watch from the outside.
Yeah...Seraphina gets pretty high up her own ass over the course of s3, then dies, maybe heroically or maybe as foolishly as last time, then post-season hiatus smash cut to Martha kicking in Mandos's front door and dragging her back to life... I do love that.
SEASON FOUR...
After the shock wears of, the classic Fëanorian paranoia isn't helped by the fact that Martha IS keeping secrets. What she's been doing, who she's been doing it with...(some Maia, maybe even an Úmaia?) Though Arda's mythology doesn't have the same Heaven/Hell dichotomy as Earthly Christianity, so alaos we can't have the sexy sexy s4 thing of an angel on one sister's shoulder and a devil on the other's...
But basically I think s3 has to have been somewhat of a tragedy, as Túrin (unknowing) and Fëanor (just bad at this) played out their old tragedies in tandem. Rashness was often the undoing of both. Leaping to conclusions, action or both, though usually in opposite directions. With maybe a dash of parallels with ancient (ie, Second Age) Elf vs Man conflict - Martha is increasingly down on herself, but also, jealous of Seraphina's Protagonist Energy and increasingly ready to do some violence about it.
And none of that resolves in s3! Seraphina just gets killed!
So in s4, they have to figure it out. Seraphina needs to learn some sort of (gasp) humility, and how to let grievances (and loved ones) go. Martha needs to learn how to cope with regret and grief with means other than changing her name and moving to a different city.
(She's already starting, though! This time, she asked "what would Seraphina do', then broke into Mandos and demanded solutions!)
(...and Mandos, perhaps, was very ready to refuse until he got a good look at her fëa, silently went 'huh' in recognition, and waved them out.)
Then Martha starts having strange dreams and visions - maybe after they fight an ancient dragon? or maybe she already was, in the s3-s4 gap (after fighting an ancient dragon with her new Maia friend?)
Seraphina is initially PSYCHED about this- twinnies for real!! But they get some entity to look at Martha's fëa and they confirm that she's 100% a Man.
Monster of the Week episodes are still the main focus btw. Vampires and werewolves, cursed magical objects, rogue petty nature maiar, peacekeeping between factions of non-humans still dwelling secretly here and there... Though perhaps the masquerade is starting to fracture?
And, of course, some (other?) Maia has shown up and informed them that Sauron is embodied again and trying to complete a ritual to break a hole in the envelope of the world to let Melkor back in, which our heroes must stop!
Also, definitely need to get the 3rd Silmaril back this season. They got the one in the earth and the one in the sea...
- so, a fan favorite recurring character [a/n: IT'S MY IMAGINARY TV, I CAN IMAGINE THE FANDOM'S REACTIONS, TOO, AND ALSO TBH I'M CERTAIN I COULD DELIBERATELY CRAFT A FAN FAVORITE CHARACTER] is the twins' Uncle Earl, who isn't technically their uncle but rather an old family friend of their mother's. He is, in short, kind of an old kook. Some flavor of Southern - I'll flip a coin and say Louisianan? Lives on a houseboat, refuses to go ashore unless absolutely necessary because "the feds'll get me." Visiting nieces means there's someone else to go get groceries and gasoline (necessary, but he doesn't trust most delivery services or modern technology, either), so they've possibly never seen him set foot on land except maybe once on an isolated beach in rural Oregon. Fought in Korea. Has probably looked grizzled since age 12. Eats mostly fish, talks to birds, talks back to the radio.
- to be clear, this guy is not filling the Bobby 'faux-parent' role. ...okay maybe he is a little, emotionally. But he's not involved in "the family business." In terms of SPN characters, he's roughly Garth - appears once a season or so, is a delight for 1 episode, then we part ways. He calls Martha in s1 because there's been some "weird deaths" in the port he's in right now, and he knows they deal with "this sort of thing" but he can't get ahold of Laura. There's a mention of him in s2, that they called to tell him Laura had died. In s3, they need to lay low for a while so they join him on his boat for a few weeks, go stir-crazy and end up fighting a sea monster.
- Idk if he calls them again in s4 or they're trying to lie low again or they just run into him by chance...but they're dealing with MotW murders in some swampy Florida shore-town and on his ship (The Flower) when something much bigger than a swamp monster catches up with them. Say, Sauron sent an unstoppable Carcharoth-sized wolf monster, or maybe a super-vampire (some aerial combat would be fun), or just some Úmaia miniboss that a season or two would've been a season-climax boss fight...
- they're moored up when it arrives. Phina curses, Martha shouts for Earl to drive, drive the boat out as far and fast as he can! Earl was half-asleep at the table; he starts awake demanding if it's the feds?! Phina leaps to the wheel herself and slams the gas, while Martha grabs the old shotgun off the wall and fires at the giant shadowy wolf-monster.
They leave it howling on the pier. They'll have to go back and face it eventually, but they're not ready right now. Maybe they can even re-land far upshore, and it'll have lost their scent again...
- the giant shadow-wolf finishes howling starts chasing them running on the water
- Martha curses, and shouts Phina to drive faster. Earl (looking over Martha's shoulder, also cursed, almost impressed, at the sight of the wolf) tells her to give him the wheel. Phina shoves him away and shouts back as she yanks the wheel that they need to turn back, they can't win this fight on the water -
- the wolf is snapping at the Flower's keel. Phina curses in Valarian and yells at Earl to take the wheel and steer them back to land, while she runs back to help Martha fight the wolf.
- Earl flips a red lever in the [boat mechanics] cabinet under the wheel which we've probably seen before (Seraphina fixed something in s1), labeled "High Octane" and shouts, "Hold on, girls!" He slams the throttle again and the whole houseboat hydroplanes. The wolf falls overboard; Phina goes with it but Martha grabs her.
- the wolf gets to its feet on the water, and starts chasing them again
- "Confession time, girls!" Uncle Earl calls, steering the boat beyond full throttle while Martha and Phina get to their feet. "I did befriend your ma's dad while he was fighting in Korea. He whispered to the stars at night, when he felt lost." Adjusts a standing spyglass, tugs a string a couple times to turn on the lanterns on the prow and above the steering console, dons his navy blue-and-gold captain's hat. "I thought I couldn't have been happier to guide him home - then Elrohir met his Laura, and they fell in love. And had the two of you!"
- "Do you have a point?" Phina shrieks. She's scrambling to get her jacket out of her bag under one of the seats, because her Silmarils are in its pockets and the shadow-wolf is gaining. Martha, shooting at the wolf again, glances back, maybe having noticed that the old anecdote is phrased differently than before. Old Uncle Earl is standing unusually straight, his grizzled-gray hair gold-ish in the warm lantern light.
- "Yes!" he calls, jerking the boat away from the wolf again. Some of his Louisiana accent has fallen away, too. "Don't lose your wits - and keep holding on to something!"
- he tugs the light-cord again and the yellowy lantern-case above the wheel opens, and the light that shines forth is far brighter and paler. Its source falls into his hand as the lantern shakes with the Flower's speed, and he sets it on the brim of his hat - the illusion of which fades, leaving only the golden band on his brow with the Silmaril set upon, and Eärendil standing as tall, young, and golden-haired as when he first sailed the sacred seas. He gives the wheel another stern yank and the ship's prow rises even higher - and keeps rising, with the rest of the Flower in tow - the Foamflower, Vingilotë, every plank now aglow.
- "Also," he admits, looking over his shoulder to make sure neither of the twins has fallen off (again), "I'm your great-grandfather. I really am sorry to have - hey!"
- that's for Seraphina, who is Fëanor, Oath blazing in her heart, regaining her balance, sprinting up the deck and lunging with wrath in her eyes for the Silmaril.
- Eärendil dodges smoothly, while still keeping one hand on the wheel. "I said," he says reprovingly - while Martha bodily tackles her sister to the floor - "keep your wits Fëanáro. I'm here to help, as I ever have been for the people of Arda."
- the girls wrestle on the deck for a few more seconds before Seraphina calms down. It helps that they realize the wolf had grown giant wings of shadow and is chasing them aloft as well.
- btw: late in s4, the dwarvish researcher who's Bobby's fill-in and/or Martha's probably-trustworthy Maia friend should really be present as well for all of the above, but this ain't really about them. So I think they're just kinda. awkwardly Present for this family not-reunion. helping fight the wolf & all that.
- (Eärendil doesn't actually give back the Silmaril. But he lets Seraphina hold it for a few minutes, during which she is more at peace than she has been in millennia, and promises to let her have it again if/when she really needs it, if it isn't more urgently needed elsewhere. This is, more or less, satisfying to the Oath: as discussed "Fëanor's kin" was only ever shorthand for "people whom Fëanor could trust to hold a Silmaril without ever withholding it from him.")
Eeexcept it turns out that even Eärendil doesn't know that the Valar DO want Morgoth back, because they're kinda totally down to have Dagor Dagorath and reboot the world. Look it'll be great - Túrin - that's you, Martha - will help Eonwë and Tulkas slay him, then Fëanor will break the Silmarils, releasing the Light so that Eru can use it to Remake the world, Unmarred this time - Hey, where are you Children going? Stop stabbing people! Stab only the people we tell you to stab!
(Ulmo, ever wise, offscreen: When has that EVER worked? Especially with Fëanáro and his kin?)
Yeah, there's a scene very much like the end of SPN s4, wherein Martha gets grabbed by the celestial "good guys" and they admit that this is all kinda set-up but don't worry - here's your destined fuckoff-huge black sword, just wait a few minutes for your "sister" to once again achieve an evil end that's the exact opposite of what she intended; and then Martha has to convince the Maia she's been befriending all season to help her escape and go rescue Seraphina before she jumpstarts the apocalypse...
(Nb: Martha was already trying to stop Sauron from freeing Morgoth when the season started - she broke Seraphina out of Mandos party bc she loved and missed her sister, partly because she needed a Silmaril expert. But she's grown skeptical of the task somehow, while Seraphina - perhaps because Seraphina - has gotten vengefully obsessed with it. As Fëanor is wont to do. Hell, she has even more reason than she used to - she knows what Sauron did to her grandson.)
So, y'know
They do, of course, accidentally free Morgoth.
On the plus side, in the process, they get to jointly murder the SHIT out of Sauron, who was the REAL mastermind behind much of Laura's Bane's actions (and, honestly? Might've been the real one who killed Laura, and only set it up to look like a Balrog. Flames and shadows both can have many masters!)
SEASON FIVE, THE FINAL SEASON DEFINITELY FOLLOWED BY NO FURTHER SEASONS despite the temptation of a terrible sexy humanoid Ungoliant
I only have 3 ideas for season 5:
1. They go to Valinor at some point, of course. Perhaps to rally aid? The first elf they find, they introduce themselves grandly, Fëanor and Túrin Turambar here seeking allies to fight Morgoth! and the elf says blankly, "I have never heard of either of you." *squints* "You're Men, you say? Lord Ulmo keeps a Man on Tol Eressëa, I think. You could go to him?" But after that, as a running joke all episode, every other elf they meet recognizes Fëanor on sight (she has a very distinctive fëa) and immediately punches her in the face...and every other elf recognizes Tùrin on sight and all but tackle-hugs Martha while shouting joyfully that they never expected to see him again. Some (Beleg) actually do tackle-hug her (and nearly gets stabbed again) (#worthit).
2. To everyone's surprise, including the other Valar, Morgoth started his war upon creation subtly when he returned...but doesn't remain subtle for long, nor do those opposing him. By the end of the season, the masquerade that non-human sentient peoples and various other supernatural beings still live in Arda is all but shattered.
3. Then it's THOROUGHLY shattered in the finale. I don't know if the general human populace participates in the final battle - though I am SO weak for a moment when, like, the regular-ass armed forces, who are not necessarily allies to the heroes, show up to help fight a massive superhuman threat. When the SHIELD helicarrier shows up to evacuate civilians in Age of Ultron, when UNIT does pretty much anything in Doctor Who...I love it when the best protections & warriors the mundane human race could pull together also show the fuck up and help save the day because damnit, this is their planet too. ...Which is, in fact, very on-theme for Tolkien. So yes, actually, this definitely happens. Probably there's some conflict with US military forces mid-season, our heroes have to talk (fight & escape) their way out of being arrested for blowing up a national landmark while fighting a balrog, and the general in charge whom they'd half-convinced returns in the finale with a battalion to slam some missiles into Morgoth...
oh, and 4: Ar-Pharazón et al totally do come back from the dead. Probably on Morgoth's side lbr. They get a twisted undead immortality wherein they cannot die, just go on fighting for the dark lord to whom they once turned in jealous worship...
More importantly...
Okay, I really don't know exactly how the Dagor Dagorath goes. We're following the version that Eärendil will chase Morgoth from the skies; Tulkas, Eonwë and Túrin will fight him upon the field and Túrin will avenge his House and all the Race of Men by slaying him; and Fëanor will break the Silmarils and Yavanna will use their Light to remake the Trees, and the lands will be leveled or in some cases raised from the depths, and everyone will live happily ever after except possibly Men who aren't mentioned beyond Túrin.
This is what the Valar expect to happen (though they don't actually know-know Eru's plans.)
What happens instead is...
Most of the Morgoth-defeating does go exactly like that. Except probably they don't kill him for good - they CAN'T, because the Marring of the world is part of what Morgoth is, and the only way to undo him completely is to remake the world completely.
Which maybe could be done, by Eru if no one else, if He were beseeched? Which might be done with the strength of the Silmarils, their Light released?
And Seraphina does break the Silmarils. That's important for her - giving up her Protagonist role, just as slaying Morgoth - embracing her Protagonist role - is important for Martha.
...but I don't think they give the Light back to Yavanna. No offense to the Trees, but they never illuminated most of Arda anyway, and the world is round now anyway - and making it flat again would fuck it up - and we have, like, electrical lights, now.
Hell, maybe Seraphina is ready to give up the Light... Her instinct is to hold it back, to follow her own novel plans with it, but, oh, to regain what was lost! And she has come around on...some of the Valar. Selectively. Yavanna's one of the okay ones.
- but Martha, half-dead from the battle, drops to her knees beside her and catches her hands before she can loose the Light upward unto the grasp of the Tree-Queen.
- "Together?" Martha says (Túrin Turambar, ever the greatest Men had to offer - bull-headed, loyal, brave, unafraid of death, loving and losing and loving again).
- Seraphina's trembling lips curve into a fierce grin (Fëanäro Curufinwë, ever the greatest Elves had to offer - brilliant in mind and spirit, devoted, ever seeking to preserve and glorify the beauty of the world, and eventually learning some wisdom about letting go).
- "Together," she agrees.
- together, they hold the Light that once shone in the Trees, the Lamps, and the Flame Eternal of Creation itself; and as they release it, reach for the Great Music of Ëa that is deep in both their blood - for they are the daughters of Elrohir, son of Elrond, son of Elwing daughter of Dior son of Lúthien Tinúviel, daughter of Melian the Maia; and indeed, even before that, they are both trueborn Children of Eru, are they not? - and eschew utterly the Choice of the Peredhel by leaving the world round but Un-Sundering the Sea, that the kindred might still live apart, if they wished it - the Elder in their land undying, the Younger in their realms of quick and sometimes joyful, often savage change - but that they might visit one another, at least, as they pleased.
(I mean, wasn't the false division of siblings the whole problem from the start?)
Random Additional Features of this Show/AU/Thing
All elf and ainu side characters, canonical and not, will be cast gender-blindly, and characters referred to with the understanding that elvish personal pronouns don't necessarily correlate with physical phenotype, but Ainur do generally try to match local standards of gender assignment. Dwarves will all use he/him (and have beards!) even when fairly clearly female.
I have no idea what Martha is doing for gender once she remembers being Túrin. With all the time Túrin spent with Elves, she probably rolls pretty smoothly with being she/her now, though it's weird. Her memories definitely integrate more easily than Fëanor/Seraphina's, though, as much because she's the same kind of being both times as because there's less of them.
Both protagonists are definitely bisexual. Martha has a range of love interests; it's a running joke (at first) that Seraphina has a total Thing for redheads. Any kind of redhead. But especially creative ones - any kind of art or invention.
The role of Gabriel WILL be played by Maglor, albeit with a different death (don't worry, he'll be back for the finale) and much more...gloominess. And angst. Okay, and maybe his first appearance, in s1 or 2, IS cursing them - not knowing who they are - into a musical episode. (A WOMAN HAS NEEDS; THE WOMAN IS ME.)
When Martha meets Fingolfin and/or any of Fëanor's other siblings, probably in s5 but maybe s4, they immediately Vibe completely. It's the shared experience of growing up with Fëanor for a sibling. Needless to say, Seraphina Hates This.
Their chief researcher friend is a dwarf, who is also on the young-ish side I think, and a woman (he/him).
There's gotta be a notable hobbit on the Team before the end, too...but overall, hobbits remain symbolically representative of the Civilians in this war story.
Durin is alive again somewhere. Durin usually reincarnates in time to guide his people through particularly difficult times - or, to try. Their dwarf friend - what the hell, I'll just call him Bobby - tries SO hard to be Cool about meeting him, and fails SO hard.
I generally prefer to judge and characterize the Valar and associated Maiar as fallible to the point of clumsiness or negligence but basically wise and thoroughly benevolent...but I AM willing to throw some of them under the characterization bus for ease of making conflict in this hypothetical CW show.
...I probably have many more random thoughts but it's 3am and I want to post this whole insane thing. Feel free to ask me questions if you have them! And/or petition both the Tolkien estate and a major TV network for the rights, money, and support to help me make the terrible but wonderful show we deserve!
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WHEN I TELL YOU I SCREAMED WHEN YOU SAID I WAS A SLY FOX!?!??? GOD I LOVE THIS STORY AND THAT JUST PROVES SO MUCH THAT I WAS THINKING ABOUT!!!! IM LITERALLY SCREAMING!!!! I LOVE IT SO MUCH!!! AND THE COVER FOR THE BOOK?!?!? ABSOLUTELY GORGEOUS!!! ITS SO PRETTY!!! BUT ALSO I DIVED DEEPER LIKE YOU SAID I NOTICED SOME HIDDEN CLUES!!!
ok so first of all right off the bat i noticed the little fox on the bottom! but also above that is “A labyrinth of lost souls” (now i know this might be reaching but idk!) so i looked up “a labyrinth of lost souls” and immediately got a bunch of links talking about assassins creed! and i quickly read over one of the links and saw that there’s a ring involved?!?!? and i immediately thought of the ring that y/n got from her mother! but i also saw there’s another game called wizardry: labyrinth of lost souls! so that could also be what you’re talking about!!! idk if either of those are relevant but for now this is just a quick rundown of what i can gather right now!
ok next are the the little moons in the top corners with the woman sitting in them! idk what meaning you have behind them rn but what i got from them is the fact that they are not full moons and she’s sitting inside of them while it kids looks like the moon is curving into her in a way? like trying to reach to her? idk again just the vibe i’m getting! ALSO THERES STARS IN THE MOON!!! WOLFSTAR!!! not only are there stars in the moon but there’s a single star outside of the moon but also in it? with the woman! it almost looks like the woman is sitting inside the moon admiring the star!!! idk!
MOVING ON BECAUSE THIS ISNT A DEEP DIVE JUST WHAT I CAN GATHER NOW!! I WILL DO A DEEP DIVE LATER!!! OK THE CONSTELLATIONS!!! I NOTICE THREE OF THEM AND I IMMEDIATELY LOOKED UP SIRIUS’ CONSTELLATION!!! AND WHAT DID I FIND?!?!??? THATS RIGHT CANIS MAJOR!!! THAT LOOKS LIKE A DOG!!! WHICH HAS SIRIUS’ CONSTELLATION IN IT!!! and where do i see a dog like constellation?!?!? ON THE LEFT OF THE COVER!!!
i believe the constellation in the middle is cassiopeia but i could be wrong. i don’t know for sure i looked up the story and don’t see how it fits in right now but maybe later in the story? hmmm
i can’t figure out what the one on the right is but hopefully i will find out soon!!! like i said this is just be briefly looking at the cover because i got so excited and couldn’t wait!!!
OK FOR NOW THATS ALL IM GONNA TALK ABOUT I WILL FIND MORE THINGS LATER!!! BUT OMG THIS IS SO MUCH FUN!!! TO LIKE LOOK FOR LITTLE DETAILS!!! ALSO THE WHOLE PRIZE THING?!?!??? I SCREAMED OMG!!! I WOULD ACTUALLY KILL TO BE A CHARACTER IN YOUR STORY!!! ITS LITERALLY AMAZING!!!! AND I HAVE SO MUCH MORE TO SAY BUT I NEED TO GET TO BED BUT JUST KNOW IM IN LOVE WITH YOUR WRITING AND EVERYTHING YOU DO ITS AMAZING!!!!
OK LOVE YA BYE!!!!
Tinny little fun fact so you don’t rack your brain over this one: Labyrinth of Souls was actually my second top option for naming Gilded Constellations, I wanted it to have a very David Bowie-esque vibe which is why Labyrinth (literally from the movie The Labyrinth, was just perfect, but I felt it was too corny (especially when the first iteration was Labyrinth of Hearts) that I went for Gilded Constellations instead.
Gilded being inspired by Golden Years from Bowie, and constellations because our babies are our moon and stars. In Spanish we have a word that’s “Astros” which roughly translates to “all the things in the sky” but there is no cool version of it in English so constellations it was in the end.
Aaaalso, theories are so freaking fun, I thought I’d let you guys run with them, so I’m helping you recruit some of my other readers, especially the ones that always approach me with theories since I feel like you could have lots of fun together theorizing over the cover: @moonyunebi @starchaser-lily @blacksgarden @loving-and-dreaming @imdoingbetternow (no pressure btw)
Lovelies, this is a follow up to this post, and I’m also adding the cover here again for your convenience ♡
But in short, I was telling Comet that I had designed this cover and that is just as filled with easter eggs, foreshadowing and secrets, as the story itself… So you may or may not find clues for the story here ☆
Also taking this chance to invite everyone who has not sent questions for the future Q&A, to send as many as you want ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡
Lastly, there will be a mini contest later on, so Comet will not be the only one receiving a price, stay tuned, and send in all your theories…
Ps, That’s not Cassiopeia, perhaps you should look closer to where the swans swim…
Ps2, thanks for the rose and love kit, you’re lovely ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹
#one shot#imagine#oneshot#moony#marauders x reader#sirius black#sirius x reader#padfoot#marauders x you#the marauders x y/n#gilded constellations#wolfstar x you#wolfstar x reader#wolfstar x y/n#moony x y/n#moony x you#moony x reader#sirius x you#sirius x y/n#sirius black fluff#remus lupin fluff
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Are You Now or Have You Ever Been (ATS 2.02)
This is part of my ongoing Buffyverse Project, where I write notes/meta for every episode in an attempt to better understand the characters and themes of the shows. You can find the BTVS list here and the ATS list here. Gifs are not mine.
I know I said I've seen Angel the once, but I swear I've seen this particular episode ten times. But it's a good episode! I always enjoy a look into Angel's past.
This is the episode in which we find the Hyperion Hotel, home for our protagonists over the next few seasons. A hotel is a pretty brilliant choice for them. There's plenty of rooms and hospitality for the needy. But first we gotta vanquish a baddy.
Over on Buffy, Spike's vampire nature is treated with disgust. But Angel is afforded a quiet respect, with Cordelia even bringing Angel blood (with a sprinkle of cinnamon) as she hands Wesley his tea. Angel keeps his cards close to his chest as he asks them to investigate the Hyperion.
We flash back to 1952, where we find the hotel thriving and buzzing about the mysterious resident...who happens to be Angel. Looks like he didn't always hide in alleys feeding on rats. There's lots of mysterious activity going on in the hotel, but this version of Angel has no interest in it. He's no hero.
We might have forgiven Angel for not chasing down hints of trouble, but then we see him outright ignore it even when it comes knocking. A young woman named Judy is clearly in trouble and being chased by a man. Angel gets his back up when the man gets cocky with him and beats him up a bit, but he's still not interested in truly helping.
One of the things that most draws me to Angel as a character is his apathy towards other people. He seems to genuinely struggle to like them, which you don't normally get in a main character. You get the sense people tend to let him down, and the version of him we see here is resigned to being an apathetic loner. He barely blinks when he hears a gunshot next door.
He also ignores the hotel guests as they become increasingly paranoid. Judy practically forces her life story on him: her mother was black and she's been passing her whole life. Things were going well and she was set to get married, but then the bank she worked at discovered her secret and fired her. Then her fiancée dumped her. Judy stole a bunch of money from the bank and fled. Her persistence pays off and Angel decides to help her.
Cordelia: A Thesulac. Paranoia demon. Whispers to its victims, feeds on their innate insecurities.
If things had gone differently, this event might have been a turning point for Angel. He decided to help the humans and if it had worked he might have found a real sense of purpose. Instead he was betrayed.
The first time I watched this through I understood Angel's POV. He was going to help Judy and she turned on him like that? People, man! But on the tenth watch I got to thinking...can we really blame her in this case? She was being victimized by a demon! Unless I'm mistaken, each of the characters is pushed to irrationality by a demonic force that feeds on their darkest thoughts. Judy especially seems like her true nature is optimistic--she apparently ignored the blood in Angel's room and thought if she gave the money back to the bank they'd forgive her. I think what Angel did here was pretty shitty.
Okay, the bellman was pretty shady though.
Back in the present, Angel calls everybody in to defeat the paranoia demon.
Gunn: "Orb Of Ramjarin please" makes it happen.
Wesley: Please. And do be careful. Ancient conjuring orbs are notoriously fragile.
Gunn: Now do I look like the kind of guy who doesn't know how to handle an ancient conjuring orb to you?
Little trouble with the new AI team member, it seems.
Back in 1952, the heartbreaking part of everyone at the hotel forming into a mob that's going to kill Angel is how not surprised he looks. He doesn't fight back as they throw a rope around his neck and push him off the balcony...but he wakes up looking pissed. The scene where he pulls himself up the rope was pretty cool. Revenge fantasy unlocked.
Thesulac: Well, I don't know about you, but I am stuffed! God, I love people, don't you? They feed me their worst, and I serve it right back to them. And the fear and the prejudice turn to certainty and hate -- and I take another bite! What a beautiful, beautiful dance!
Where're you going? You know you're paid up through the end of the week. Oh, you got your feelings hurt, didn't you? See now what happens when you stick your neck out for 'em? They throw a rope around it!
And you thought you'd made a friend. Newsflash: You had! That's what made her the yummiest morsel of all! You'd reached her, buddy! Restored her faith in people! Without you, she would've been just another appetizer. But you plumped her up good. Stuffed her with hope, filled her with gratitude. When she betrayed you, she betrayed everything! She's a meal that's going to last me a lifetime! You know, there's an entire hotel here just full of tortured souls who could really use your help. Whaddaya say?
Angel: Take 'em all.
What happened to Judy was really dark. Like...really dark. Poor woman has lived her whole life in that hotel, terrified to even leave the room. But this is a show about redemption. We're not shying away from the things Angel, or anyone else, has done.
At the end of her life, Judy asks for Angel's forgiveness. Poor woman.
In a show filled with second chances, it makes sense the Hyperion Hotel itself is going to get one. Angel declares that the hotel isn't a house of evil anymore. It's got to prove itself, just like our heroes.
Character Notes:
Angel: He's very offended when a shop owner thinks he was turned "north of thirty". Once again, there is a divide between Angel and the rest of AI. He tends to go off on his own while the others try and figure out what he's up to.
Wesley Wyndam-Pryce: The demon accuses him of being especially paranoid, which makes him paranoid. But Angel reassures him he didn't find him especially paranoid.
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talk 2 me about mafuyu idk anything abt her but i like her
helloo helloo i love mafuyu my silly billy spoingle boingle girlfriend boyfriend bff babygirl
Baby mafuyu so cutes <33333333
Mafuyu is a silly billy super smart girl with a loving mother and also shes the perfect honour student look at her here <3
She makes music with her music unit '25ji nightcord de' (or niigo for shortt) shes the lyricist of the unit and her lyrics are normal 💯💯
Okay now.. actual rambling because i love her (kicking my feet etc etc)
Mafuyu's whole life, she's been told by her mother that she has to be a smart and perfect little girl. Of course, Mafuyu doesn't see how harmful her mother is, really who can realise something like that, when that's what you've been raised with? She believes it's out of love, because that's what's good for her.. good grades are a good thing! Sure she wanted to be a nurse and her mother is pushing her to be a doctor, sure she likes helping out her friends and her mother is telling her only to talk to the Smart™ students (because friends are only people who you should be with for Character Development™ not because you genuinely enjoy their company), sure she made seven (?) year old mafuyu feel guilty about getting lost at an amusement park because her mother was worried, sure she'd rather mafuyu keep studying and studying and only do things that will Help her in life (study more) but it all comes from a place of love and worry right? ♡
I'm gonna skip a bunch of events because i do not remember 💯💯 anyways,, in Our Escape For Survival (i think that's what the event was called), Mafuyu's mother gets rid of most ways for him to speak with niigo, which isolates him. A lot. Niigo still finds ways to talk to her though, working together during her school breaks.
her friend, Mizuki (she is also part of niigo) wants to help mafuyu, and after getting advice from megurine luka, she gets mafuyu to hang out with her (by skipping cram school) and then tells her its alright to run away and stuf.. (this reminded me of reigen mp100....)
I only spoke about this cause look at this card ^ its my favourite im saving up for it
Anyways mafuyu DOES run away next niigo event (iirc) after confronting her mother and now she lives with kanade (part of niigo)
Anyways,, look at the comparison between mafuyu's first event 4* and the immiscible discord (the name of the event where he runs away.. iirx) 4*
I was not able to calm down for weeks after seeing this card, my brother knows mafuyu lore now purely because of this card..
#.asks ❜#.creature ❜#i forgor where i was going with this. anyways my babygirl.. thank you for asking about him <3#i just started showing my favourite mafuyu cards.. do you want to see some more of my fav cards 🩷
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i would like the lore review :3c
Sure. Note to readers: the following contains some spoilers for the 2021 YA novel by Alexandra Bracken, "Lore." It's also pretty critical (because as I mentioned in my previous comment: my review of Lore is that you should read Tithe instead), so if you're not feeling like reading a moderately negative review, give this one a miss.
--
"Lore," is a young adult mythologically-inspired fantasy novel set in modern New York City. It has an interesting central idea. In short, a bunch of major gods of the Greek pantheon offended against their leader and were cast down to be mortal for a week out of every 7 years, during which time killing them could pass their god-powers on to whichever mortal struck the killing blow. The gods are hunted by families who descend from ancient heroes, like Perseus or Heracles. This week long time of hunting is called the "Agon." It's a little convoluted but it's pretty fun, right?
The story centres on a young woman named Lore who fled this hidden magical underworld. Her god-hunting family, experiencing reduced circumstances due to internecine politics, were all murdered during the Agon, and then she lived with her mother's extended family who treated her poorly. At the beginning of the next Agon, she is drawn back into the fray via a message from her childhood friend, Castor.
Lore receives this message when Castor finds her and fights her at an illegal fight club, which somehow genuinely has nothing to do with the events of the plot, and is never spoken of again. This will set the tone for the whole story.
So, the good stuff: the central concept is fun. The writing is technically proficient. The characters are pretty consistent. The central plot (although not the sub plots) takes some twists and turns and arrives at a completely coherent conclusion. The entire central idea of the Agon is resolved in a thematically coherent way.
My major criticism of this book — and it is a really major, structural thing — is that the novel attempts to tackle an enormous array of ideas, and does so poorly. It races around trying to take on all of them in a half-assed way, instead of committing to two or three central concepts with its whole buttocks. This book will pick up a thought or idea, run with it for a bit, and then forget it even occurred while it careens off towards another, equally ill-explored idea. This has its most profound and regrettable effect on characterisation, where we get incidents like:
illegal fight club irrelevant to the plot is never again mentioned by any character, or
entire story propped up by the trembling buttress of convenient amnesia that disappears in the epilogue, or
character learns that her whole family was murdered by a totally different person than she thought, which impacts the events of the plot, but appears to have minimal effect on her thoughts or feelings
These are not the only examples, they're just the ones that stand out to me at 1:22 AM on Saturday.
In general, my conclusion is that this book has a convoluted but fun central idea and the actual writing reads well, but it is shallow and confused by trying to do too much all at once. "Lore," would have read better to me if it had been a simpler (and shorter, bloody oath) story which cut half the subplots and weird character threads and instead focused on developing strong characters and a nuanced central thesis.
I'm going to end this with a speech from Athena, made on a topic that she never again mentions:
"No. That is she men have portrayed her [Medusa] as, through art, through tales," Athena said. "They imagined her hideous because they feared to meet the true gaze of a woman, to witness the powerful storm that lives inside, waiting. She was not defeated by my uncle's assault. She was merely reborn as a being who could gaze back at the world, unafraid."
Cheers, Athena.
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