#I cannot believe 'Of An Age' was released last year

[pierppasolini]

✨ 9 favorite films that i watched (for the first time) in 2023 ✨

I was tagged by @anthonysperkins thank you! 💙

Since I did my Top 10 First Time Watches a few days back [here], I decided to do 9 more first time watches that I loved last year. :D

[multific]

The Essence of Beauty

Count Orlok x Vampire!Reader

Summary: After years and years of looking, you believe you found what you have been looking for.

The dark castle stood in silence as the sun began to set.

You moved quietly through the grand hall, the hem of your black gown brushing against the cold stone floor. Clutched in your hands was a small vial, glowing faintly with an ethereal blue light—the potion.

You had spent years searching for it, a concoction crafted from forgotten alchemy, whispered about in ancient texts. When you started looking for it. You almost gave up.

Its power was said to be immense, a temporary reversal of decay, a momentary return to youth. 

Though you bore no scars of time, your beloved Orlok carried the weight of centuries on his shoulders. 

His once-proud visage had been transformed by the curse of undeath.

You found him in the chamber you both shared, seated by the wide arched window that opened to the forest below. 

The moonlight streamed through, illuminating his pale face. 

He just woke up. Since, unlike you, he cannot walk the earth during the day.

To you, he had always been beautiful.

"My love," you said softly, stepping closer to him. 

"You’ve returned," he said, his voice deep and echoing in the chamber. "Where have you been?"

"I went to find something for you. Something... I hoped might make you happy." you pulled the potion out of your pocket and showed it to him.

Orlok’s eyes narrowed. "What is this?"

"A potion," you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. "It can restore your youth. It makes you as you once were before the curse took hold. It won’t last forever, only for a short while, but... I thought you might wish to see yourself as you were."

He stared at the vial, an unreadable expression crossing his face. His clawed fingers brushed against the glass, but he did not take it. "You sought this for me?"

You nodded. "I know how the years have weighed on you, how the world has changed while you remained the same. And though I love you as you are, I thought perhaps this might bring you some joy."

Orlok’s lips curved into a faint, sad smile. "You did this because you pity me."

"No," you said quickly, placing your hands over his. "I did this because I love you. Because I cannot bear to see you in pain."

He lifted his gaze, searching your eyes for truth. 

For centuries, you had been by his side, his wife, his equal, his love. Unlike him, you had not aged. 

The curse had not marked you in the same way it did him. 

While he bore the scars of time, you remained untouched by its cruel hand. While he must hide from the sun, you are free to walk as you are.

"Do you wish me to be something I am not?" he asked quietly. His voice held no anger. 

"Never," you replied firmly. "You are everything to me, Orlok. I love you as you are. Not for your appearance, but for your soul. This potion is not something you have to take. It’s only something I thought you might want."

He was silent for a long moment, his gaze shifting back to the vial. He was deep in thought. "And you’ve tested it?"

You hesitated before answering. "Yes, of course. On myself. It worked... but only for a single night. By dawn, its effects faded, and I was as I had been."

"Then what purpose does it serve?" he asked, his voice tinged with sorrow. "To offer a fleeting glimpse of what once was, only to snatch it away by morning?"

You took his hand in yours, pressing it to your heart. "It serves no purpose beyond showing you what I see every night you emerge from your coffin. You think yourself hideous, but to me, you are perfect. This potion cannot change what truly matters, which is the love I hold for you."

Orlok leaned forward, his cold lips brushing against your forehead. "You are a fool to love me."

"I am the happiest fool in existence," you whispered, smiling through the tears that threatened to fall.

He studied you for a moment longer, then released a deep, shuddering sigh. "If this potion means so much to you, I will take it. But not because I seek youth or beauty. I will take it because you, my love, have given me a gift far greater than time, your heart."

Carefully, he uncorked the vial, the soft sound echoing in the silent chamber. 

The liquid shimmered as he raised it to his lips. You watched, your heart pounding, as he drank it in one swift motion.

For a moment, nothing happened. 

Then, slowly, a soft glow began to radiate from within him. His gaunt features smoothed, the pallor of his skin faded, and the deep lines etched by centuries disappeared. 

Before your eyes, Orlok transformed, becoming the man he once was.

He stood before you, tall and regal, his dark hair restored, his eyes gleaming with vitality. 

Yet, despite his changed appearance, he remained the same. He was still your Orlok.

"How do I appear to you now?" he asked, his voice lighter, hie breathing now even.

You smiled, stepping closer and placing your hands on either side of his face. "You appear as you always have to me, the man I love. This version of you is unchanged by time."

He pulled you into his arms, holding you close as the moonlight bathed you both in its glow. 

"And when this night ends, and the potion’s effects fade, will you still look at me this way?"

"Always," you promised, pressing your lips to his. "For in my eyes, you are eternal."

As the night wore on, you remained in each other’s arms, savouring the moment. You etched his young face into your mind for eternity.

When dawn approached, and the potion's magic began to weaken, Orlok did not mourn the loss of youth. 

Instead, he held you tighter as he once more laid down in his coffin, but he had you in his arms for this day.

"I must admit, it was nice to see the man I see in the paintings. You are quite handsome." you said as he closed the lid of his coffin.

"Even if I do not need such a potion, I must admit it was great to walk as a young man once more."

"I believe many women fell for you during your youth. But I'm glad I was able to bring back something like that for you."

"I do wonder, what did the potion bring back for you? You are already eternally beautiful."

"I looked like my teenage self. Younger but not as mature. But I believe once was enough. I prefer My Love as he is." his arms tightened around you as he slowly fell asleep.

"Thank you." he whispered before his eyes closed.

You were happy that in the end, he had a great time being young once more. It was a gift after all. 

Love was the only true eternity you needed.

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

Wattpad

/DO NOT TRANSLATE, STEAL OR REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[discordiansamba]

that said the idea of Zuko being the spirits go to guy for problem solving is so funny to me. something something AU in which Zuko was born a hundred years ago and when Aang vanishes the spirits are just like. gee. we need a temporary bridge between worlds until he gets back so they just make a beeline for zuko. yeah you'll do. we're going to slap you with immortality. go forth and problem solve for us.

zuko: do I have the option to unsubscribe.

spirits: no.

local immortal firebender doomed to wander the earth doing whatever the spirits want of him. they promise they'll release him if the Avatar ever returns. Zuko is increasingly suspicious that won't happen. he doesn't have any cool spirit powers- he just doesn't die. or grow. he would have appreciated not being perpetually sixteen actually.

he can't prevent the war from happening. that's not what the spirits want from him. but he watches it all unfold- and he tries to help whenever he gets the chance. he somehow still manages to forge vague connections to the rest of the world. it's not why he's there, but he helps a young woman from the northern water tribe escape her unwanted marriage by fleeing to the south. he hates going to omashu because that bumi kid won't leave him alone- what do you mean he's king now.

he watches the war get worse. he watches the dai li grow increasingly corrupt. there's so much he wants to do, but the spirits usually won't let him intervene in mortal affairs. he belongs to them. just when he starts to believe that he'll never be free, the spirits tell him he has only one last task left. go to the south pole. escort the three children there to the north pole.

it's a weird request, but zuko literally cannot refuse, so he goes. kanna greets him. she's gotten older again since the last time he saw her. her son is off to war. her oldest grandchild is almost his physical age. they went out fishing and haven't returned. when they do, they arrive on a sky bison- and there's an airbender with them.

it's the fucking avatar.

after a hundred years, the avatar has returned... and instead of instantly releasing him from his contract, the spirits want him to be his babysitter. what did he do to deserve this.

(well. his father being fire lord sozin probably didn't help.)

[shyvien]

Here are 100 random quotes from Lucifer!

Sourced from the OM! Wiki, chats, devilgram, screenshots I found, etc. I made this list to help with studying to write the characters in character. (Not really proofread, sorry if there are mistakes. Also, there may be spoilers. If so, they’re minor spoilers)

✧༺⚜️༻✧

​​“Do you want my attention? Why don't we talk for a little then? I have enough energy for that. As your presence is so very soothing to me.“

​​“Heh, not afraid to get sassy with me anymore, are you?”

​​“Let's celebrate until you cannot stand anymore.“

​​“No need to rush. I won't be able to help you if you fall down in the middle of the street. Rather, I would probably enjoy the sight.”

​​“...Well? How do you like Demonus-flavored kisses?“

​​“I believe it's long been established that if anyone's going to be eating them, it will be me.“

​​“If you want me to keep you from running that mouth of yours, you need only ask.“

​​“Are you poking fun at me right now? I see you like to play with fire. Well, there's a punishment for getting cheeky with me like that. Come here, MC”

​​“I am exceedingly concerned…”

​​“Now Listen, and listen well. I will not be your possession. I won’t belong to you. You will belong to me.”

​​“You seem repentant, so I shall forgive you.”

​​“Are you still tired from last night? After all, I didn’t let you get much sleep.”

​​“I will watch over you. Until the day comes where we must part. And I promise... to love you until the end of your days and beyond.”

​​“You... Release me! Don't you dare try to put me to sleep like I'm not ten million years older than you!”

​​“All of you, out of the way...! I'm going to tear that human limb from limb…!”

​​"Are you trying to please me?"

​​"Do you need a goodnight kiss?"

​​"You are a strange human being."

​​"You want me to praise you for that? Very well… Good iob."

​​"Fine, I'll forgive you just this once."

​​"Do you need something?"

​​“It's as if you're saying that you need me in your life, and that's a wonderful feeling. Is it conceited of me to say that? Well, I am the Avatar of Pride, after all."

​​“Stab it with a fork or something. Anything sharp should do the trick.“

​​"I can't say I mind spending my time with you while Mammon's shrieks echo in the background either. Heh! And Diavolo's laughter is even louder than that."

​​“Well, there are worse demons it could have happened to... Probably.”

​​“Asmo, you stay right there. I'll go get my whip.“

​​“Hush now. Daddy's here to give you a hug.“

​​“NONONONONONO! I'm saying I DON'T want them to see that picture. So, if they ask you for it, I'd like you to tell them that no such photo exists. OK?”

​​“That won't be necessary. I went ahead and blew it up. The entire room.“

​​"If you want to get the better of me, that toy of yours isn't going to cut it. Perhaps try lethal poison from some horrific insect, aged a thousand years for maximum potency."

​​“I know, I know... But why don't we save the killing until after you've eaten your breakfast, hm?“

​​“Mmm, nothing's sweeter than listening to their screams of agony. Heheheh...”

​​“Bring him down to the living room. Use whatever means necessary…though I do want him alive.“

​​”I would never have imagined I would be kissed on the cheek by you. I don't dislike it when you take the initiative. But why on the cheek? You don't need to hesitate with me. Next time, do it on the lips. Understand?”

​​“Hell coffee becomes bitter when you prepare it for someone that you're fond of. It's a special property of the coffee beans. Naturally, I drank every last drop of your feelings.”

​​“Only those that haven't been involved in that dolt's childish antics are the truly happy ones.”

​​“When I get my hands on him, I'll have to be thorough with my discipline.”

​​“Tomorrow I will be handing Diavolo a report detailing how all of the exchange students are faring. I'll be sure to stress how excited you are to continue your education here at our prestigious academy.”

​​“How's the Celestial Realm? Unlike the Devildom, you don't have to worry about anyone grabbing you and eating you for lunch there, do you?”

​​“You've got Solomon with you as well, so you should relax and enjoy your time there.“

​​“If only my brothers were as obedient as you are. It is not every day that you get the chance to have me indebted to you. You can expect a one-hundred times return on the investment of your time, that I promise. In return, I expect that you won't let me down.”

​​“How naive. If you don't want me to have wasted my time by informing you, be sat in your seat at the table within the next sixty seconds. It will be just you and me. Let us enjoy the rare breakfast together before my brothers ruin the atmosphere.”

​​“Don't get cocky, MC.”

​​“One spoke at length about the clothing on the Diavolo sticker. It waxed lyrical about how exquisite the design choices were.”

​​“However, I discovered a slew of insults written in invisible ink on the page.“

​​“How could you tell? You really know me well, MC! Hehehe. I was drinking Demonus with Diavolo earlier. And you know, he kept saying all these nice things about you... Let me tell you, I'm also really happy you're down here with us.”

​​“…Who even came up with the idea that whoever empties their bottle first, wins...? Oh, right. I did... My bad. Ah, my head is spinning. Good night MC. Love you.”

​​“Ugh, you thickheaded fool of a demon! What's your skull made of? Granite?”

​​“That's a curse meant to make you stub your toe on the leg of a table… But if you actually do stub your toe, it hurts quite a bit.”

​​“MC. It has come to my attention that Mammon and Asmo took you out for a drive recently. Well, how was it? Enjoyable? …I'm glad to hear it. We all need breaks from the daily grind from time to time. l'd like you to join me for a drive next time. I'll give you a taste of euphoric freedom that those two could never dream of. Prepare for the time of your life.”

​​“If you'd like, we could take a shower together.”

​​“After all, I haven't managed to seduce you yet. I'm going to need more time.”

​​“The three highest-ranked demons in the realm, frolicking about in a frivolous pajama party? How absurd.”

​​“I didn't hear a word you just said. I know nothing about it, and I'm going to keep it that way.”

​​“I see. Then I should be allowed to take a similar photo of you, no? Come stay over in my room again tonight.”

​​“Don't be stupid. I will not allow myself to be clad in demon garb. I'm going to strip off every last piece of it this very instant and fling it as far away from me as I can.”

​​“You're a demon. I'm surprised someone like you is able to feed me lines like that with a straight face. You've got some nerve.”

​​ “Heheheh. Well, he is my brother, after all, so I thought I'd go easy on him. So, should I make this quick, or go slowly, bit by bit? Your choice.”

​​ “So, tell me. what's with the Little D.? The one looking at me with that moronic expression...”

​​“You think you stand a chance against me?! You think you could defeat Lucifer, Avatar of Pride?“

​​ “Well, aren't you persistent. I suppose you won't be happy until you've pummeled the door senseless?”

​​“...Just what were you hoping to accomplish by knocking me down like this, hm? Because doing something like that to me, right now… is making it much harder for me to control myself...!”

​​“Given that you were the one who pounced first, you can't complain when the tables are turned, can you? …I'm so thirsty, I can hardly think straight. I trust you understand what that means.”

​​ “To show my thanks, I suppose I'm not against giving you some special treatment. You'll have to come closer. I'll give you my lap until you're satisfied. ...You'll keep me company until then, won't you?”

​​"You deserve a thank you."

​​ "Sorry, this isn't exactly my cup of tea. I was hoping you'd know me better."

​​"It appears to me you know what pleases me."

​​"Are you really trying to tickle me? Heheheh, you'll have to do much better than that."

​​"Pff...if you think that tickles, you're wrong."

​​"Well, if you insist on touching me, then be my guest.”

​​"Well, hello. How are things?"

​​"You've got some nerve keeping me waiting. Well now, what are you going to do about it?"

​​"I'm back. Hm? ...Did you miss me?"

​​"*sigh* I've had a long day. But seeing you has a way of making me feel better."

​​"Sorry, I had some business to take care of. Well, well, you certainly seem happy to see me."

​​"Done? Let's continue this in my room."

​​"Good night... We'll meet again in our dreams."

​​ "I feel like we both have a nice day ahead of us."

​​ "I enjoyed our time together. Perhaps we should do this again."

​​“You do know what I'm capable of... don't you?"

​​ "Happy Easter. Will you accept it, my little bunny?"

​​"Once you're officially a sorcerer, I'd like you to become powerful enough to shut up Solomon for me."

“Very well. Here I go. Lucifer Kick!”

“Why should I be subjected to the indignation of a pat on the head from you?”

​​“After all, it's a bit like tossing a helpless lamb into the middle of a pack of hungry wolves, isn't it? But it's also important to understand just who it is you're eating, wouldn't you say?“

​​ “It means that I see you as prey, too. Just like the others. It goes without saying that I'm far stronger than you. If I were to pin you down right here and now, you wouldn't be able to do anything about it, now would you? How about we give it a try...?“

​​“You will soon enough.”

​​ “When a vampire feeds, it's not like his human prey feels only pain. Quite the opposite, actually. They're overcome with a feeling of unimaginable ecstasy. The truth is that you want this as well, don't you? You want to feel my arms around you, to give yourself up to me and offer up your blood... You're special. I won't drink you dry...no. I'm going to kiss you again and again, all over your body. Indulging in you just a bit each and every night. And I do mean every night. No other vampire will ever know the taste of your blood…”

​​“Do you have any idea how hard I had to struggle not to do this earlier...? It was all I could do to resist throwing my arms around you right in front of everyone at the party.”

​​ “MC… I missed you. I can tell just from the way you feel against me. I can sense what you're feeling.I'm sorry, MC. ...Sorry it took me so long to get to you. You should really stay with me tonight. We need to make up for all the time lost.“

​​ “You're drunk, you idiot. Oh well, I'll go along with you just for today. Bottoms up.”

​​“Me? Intoxicated? Preposterous. I'm my usual old self.”

​​“You are also fond of me, no?“

​​ “Then come over here. Are you holding back? Come closer. Prepare yourself. If I win, I get to do with you as I please.”

​​“You know there is no turning back after the first pillow is thrown, right?”

“As a demon, I've never cared when humans bred…”

​​“Stop unnecessarily stressing me out. You're shaving years off my life here.”

​​ “I don't mind. If I am not allowed to nag, then I can simply beat these rules into you.”

​​“Is this how you all amuse yourselves? By sending photos of your exposed body parts?”

​​ “Good grief. I need eyes everywhere to keep track of everyone.”

Extras! (It's hard to pick just 100 y'know?)

1. ​​“Leading unhealthy lifestyles, frittering away your time and money… The extent to which you all squander your lives away is quite intolerable to watch.”

2.​​ “Put two or more of you together, and you start getting ideas in your head. Bad ideas.”

3. “The next time one of you puts so much as a toe out of line… I'lI march you all up your beloved Mt. Imminent Death, and ensure that you NEVER return.”

4. “So as an extra bonus, I'll tickle you...”

5. “How nice that you're not letting our large underground gambling problem spoil your fun...”

✧༺⚜️༻✧

𝑀𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉

𝒮𝒽𝓎 𝒲𝓇𝒾𝓉𝑒𝓇 ༝༚༝༚

[bratulaura]

From the Roots

Jufura- pt.1

Ryomen Sukuna x Rosela(OC)

Warnings: Language, violence, soft ex hubby Sukuna(technically), dominant wife energy🙌🏾

♥️🌹🥀🖤

Ryomen Sukuna has never been the kind of king to rule with a queen. A modern day sorcerer would scoff at the thought of such an ancient, ruthless curse being soft for a woman.

But a modern day sorcerer would also know that the king of curses is unpredictable.

His presence was felt across Japan the day that dumbass kid decided to take a chunk out of one of his fingers. As a matter of fact, he ate it whole.

Yuji Itadori, the lost cause. A weirdo child.

Sukuna didn’t enjoy being in the mind of a confused teenager. But his body was in all right shape. It could have been better.

The kid didn’t have any techniques. Was he even a sorcerer? If not, how would he have know about the fingers?

Sukuna’s nose scrunched. He glanced around. It turns out, the kid was on the top of a school roof for some reason. The curse he just killed was forgotten in three seconds tops.

He took in a deep inhale. He paused.

That smell. So familiar yet buried deep in his memories, almost never to be recovered.

It had hardly been a full minute and she was already there.

“Rosela.” He drawled. His voice was low, gravelly— almost nostalgic in a way.

Crushed black rose petals, burnt amber resin, aged red wine. He could scent every note like she never left. And that scent that always lingered— patchouli and oud. The undertone of decay, but that was always his fault. Always, though, she had a distinctly sweet smell that he could taste.

Despite that, he frowned. Displeased and grumpy. Centuries trapped, sealed in his damn fingers, and he’s released just to be face to face with his ex wife, at her full strength while he’s stuck inside the body of a stupid underdeveloped highschooler.

If he believed in karma, this would be it.

He senses her before he sees her, and sees her before he feels her.

All these years and she hasn’t changed a bit. That same deep red hair cascaded down her back in curls that reached her waist— and her waist. He stared. Exposed lines and cursed carvings, a thorn chain hooked around her waist like it doesn’t cause her pain. Those rose gold eyes gleam, almost shining light across the whole city. Maybe that’s because he’s staring so damn hard.

Once she catches him in her sights, she’s suddenly up close. He can feel her. She’s never plummeted in power, not even a percent.

Before he can even go to speak, his body’s being launched halfway across the city, then caught in her hands like he weighs nothing.

“Who do you think—“

“—I am?” She finished for him. “Your ex wife. Rosela.”

Her expression remains unmoving, but he can hear the scorn in her voice.

“Remember me? You should. And I should kill you right now.”

“You underestimate me? The king of curses?” He sounds enraged and incredulous in one breath. Rosela pauses.

“You’re right.” She concludes after a moment of consideration. “I want you.”

He raises a brow.

“As in you. At your full power.” She puts emphasis on the word, and he can hear the snippet of annoyance in her tone.

“Maybe add more next time.” He scowls. “You punnet-grade harlot. You dare lay hands on me?”

“Punnet?”

“Had we not divorced due to your ceaseless blabbering, your womb would be good for nothing but bearing the fruit of my seed.”

She’s speechless, jaw hanging open in shock with quickly turns to anger.

“I would watch how you speak to me when you’re not even at a quarter of your strength. The only reason you haven’t attacked is because you know you cannot beat me like this.” She spits it at him, and he almost flinched.

Almost.

Rosela, the second strongest curse in the world. Well… currently first since he’s stuck. As previously stated a million times before.

Why would he marry anyone else?

“You’re lucky, girl.” He grits out. “Enjoy your freedoms while they last. When I regain my true form, I’ll rip your heart out of your chest and feed it to you while it’s still beating.”

“And then what? Cry in Uraume’s arms like the giant gargastic baby that you are? I pray to me that you never return to your true form, Ryomen Sukuna. Not because I’m intimidated, but because you’ll go right back to kissing Jack Frost’s ass like the dog you are.” Rosela snapped back, then slammed him into the nearest building.

“You’ve gotten soft.” Sukuna comments. “By now, you’d have killed me.”

“I’ve always been more composed than you.”

“You’ve always been more merciless, though.”

Rosela’s eyes traced him up and down.

Sukuna followed the rose gold gaze. He liked that color.

“You’re a cataclysmic failure of a curse.” She murmured. “I almost feel sorry for you.”

Sukuna scoffs.

“Sorry for me?” He echoes.

The air goes still.

Back on the roof, a flash of white.

Sukuna tensed. Rosela glanced back, composed.

“Oh, look.” She purred. “A sorcerer. Your favorite little fire trucks, baby boy. Go play!”

She snatched him up by the collar and tossed him back toward the school building with little to no difficulty.

Sukuna landed with a tumbling thud, nearly breaking through the roof of the school.

“There you are!” Gojo cheered. “All right. Let’s wrap this up, I don’t have all night.”

“You had all night to get here…”

“Oh, cheer up, Megumi. The third years won’t laugh at you that hard!”

Sukuna scowled. He may not be able to fight his ex right now, but a mere sorcerer? He was almost offended.

Rosela retreated to the sealed tree and she rested against it.

Until Sukuna regained his full form, she wouldn’t waste her time with worthless talk.

[satorugojjo]

I don’t think there’s a single book BookTok has promoted in the last couple years that’s turned out to be an actually good “you cannot miss this read” which now makes me and so many others I know avoid it as a whole.

A lot of BookTok books seem to be specific for very young or very new readers who haven’t cut their teeth on fanfic or haven’t been reading from a young age. The writing style is either a really profound Instagram metaphorical caption kinda overwrought and over flowery language, or it’s trying so hard to be edgy and sardonic and ends up being completely tell and almost zero show. This Is How You Lose The Time War is a PERFECT example of this - where the flowery and poetic language actually takes AWAY from a scene and distracts you from it rather than adding anything to it in the moment, and for those who do like poetic fiction this will be up their alley but if you don’t and you pick it up because of badly marketed hype when you normally wouldn’t, it’s gonna turn you off reading in general!

There’s nothing wrong with starter fiction to help get readers engaged and then find their way into actually good books, but my gripe is that it’s never ever marketed as that and as if it it’s just generically good fiction. Nothing Colleen Hoover has ever written is objectively good - the writing style is mediocre and she romanticises taboo topics which will seem spicy to the average population who doesn’t READ. And yet she takes up every bookshelf which I promise you will end up turning many readers who ARENT on booktok away from reading altogether.

YA is another genre that has declined a lot in recent years because it’s full of marketers trying to fit all the buzzword tropes into their books and getting young readers to buy it because it’s “enemies to lovers pirate cyberpunk found family” or whatever - and it feels more like focus group fiction rather than actual writing. I LOVE YA but nothing that’s been released post 2020 has had any depth, plot, character development or any style to it.

A great example is Fourth Wing by Rebecca Yarros - i tried reading 2 chapters as a sample and it was shocking to see how illogical, overdramatic, overedgy and exceptionally “this happened then this then this then that” it was. There was absolutely zero nuance and it felt so “I’m telling you all this but I’m not gonna prove any of it”. And yet it’s rated either 5 stars or 1 star. I’m sure it’s a great starter middle grade/teen book but it is definitely not deserving to be on the same pedestal as other YA books like Hunger Games or Six of Crows. I used to think that perhaps I’ve just outgrown YA but considering I can pick up YA from 2018 that I haven’t read before with no problems, it’s so specific to BOOKTOK YA.

It’s getting to the point that if I see a book that’s being overpromoted on tiktok, I’m more likely to believe the bad reviews because there hasn’t been a SINGLE book where I’ve disagreed with them, and then go find a different book in the same genre that hasn’t been on booktok - it’s getting hilarious actually that the books that are actually incredible get zero screen time and traction on booktok because they aren’t just cheap easy airport reads. Once again - nothing wrong with an easy airport CH book or YA book, but we aren’t going around parading a Lee Child book as peak literature no matter how enjoyable they are.

I don’t even have a conclusion to this entire rant - I’m sick of books like Babel getting steamrolled because it was “too sad or too hard” in favour of the latest SJM book, and getting even more sick of the decline of media literacy due to books getting easier and more spoonfeedy. When they aren’t? They mistake flowery metaphors for complexity and depth.

[livmightlive]

LU Maze Runner AU (actually explained this time)

Okay, I got way ahead of myself in my last post 😭 I forgot that maze runner didn’t have the same impact on everybody as it did me. Here’s the actual plot of my AU so that it makes sense to everyone 😭

Hyrule has reached an incredibly advanced age of technology and other sciences. (So think like, hunger games, or any sci-fi movie that takes place like, 200 years in the future.) Most of Hyrule has fallen to a horrible virus called the gloom. This gloom grows through plants and taints water sources.  This virus was engineered by a terrible cult called Demise, a group of people under the control of a man named Ganon who wishes to take control of Hyrule. 

In retaliation, a group sponsored by the royal lineage of Hyrule creates a research facility called HYLIA to study ways to take down Demise and fight against the gloom. They take individuals from across Hyrule who show either great resistance, sometimes even immunity to the gloom, and/or significant resistance against the cult of Demise. Demise has some type of brainwashing technology that causes people to either become submissive under its rule or compliant to the cult, often joining it. 

Of course in this story the people taken are the boys from the chain and also all the Zeldas. They’re all taken young, at least in the quarter HYLIA that they live in. Most of them were surrendered by their parents but others were either found or taken. HYLIA cannot afford to be kind. 

So in essence, everyone is stuck there, but it’s not horrible. They spend a lot of time getting “normal” schooling. They’re subjected to tests but it’s not necessarily like a horror lab AU. They’re not treated like animals or anything but they certainly can’t leave. This of course leads to a lot of resentment from the chain.

Eventually HYLIA starts getting frustrated. They aren’t getting very far with their testing. It just isn’t… natural. One of the key discoveries is that gloom resistance and resistance to Demise mind control is really hard to replicate in practical labs. The labs can’t be unbiased with literally the same exact sample each time. They realize that the only way they can actually get results is through real life experience. But how can they get that when all these people have been living in HYLIA for years? 

The Maze is born. It's huge, spanning hundreds of acres of land. In its very center lies the glade, a safe spot of land in the middle of it all, the maze surrounding it. (I’ll try and draw a rough map at some point.) They build two of them. One for the boys, one for the girls. They fill the mazes with genetically engineered monsters that they infuse with low levels of the gloom in order to see how the “participants” react when they fight them. 

The mazes are full of different puzzles and beasts so that HYLIA can study the participants and how they react. Through these means, they believe they will understand how to defeat Demise and the gloom.

I mentioned before that they send in each chain member going off of their game release dates. This starts with Hyrule and ends with Wild. They time this just around the span of a full year, sending in a member around a month or two at a time. 

Before they send in each member, they completely and FULLY erase their memories so that when they wake up in the glade, all they can remember is their name and age. They do remember how to do things, like math, reading, survival skills, etc. but they don’t know how or when they learned it. Sometimes they might get strong feelings, but that’s all they have. They’re essentially new people once they hit the maze. 

I’ll get more into the chain members and dynamics next time! Or I can write about anything you want 💕💕💕 please lmk thoughts!! They keep me motivated

[hotdaemondtargaryen]

PHIA SABAN PHOTOGRAPHED IN NEW YORK BY JULIA SARIY FOR ROSE & IVY MAGAZINE.

HOW HAS THE ANTICIPATION BEEN LEADING UP TO THE RELEASE OF SEASON TWO?

"It's funny because in order to make the show with any integrity, you cannot think about the scale of it at all. It has to be about the moment you're trying to make special and doing justice to the reality of the reality. I mean, it’s a show about dragons (laughs). I hope people will find it's a family drama and the dynamics are very human."

"You almost can't focus on what a big thing it is, but there's nothing like doing a press tour and going to New York, Paris, and London. You realize it is bigger than the soundstage in Watford (laughs). I guess the answer to your question is trying not to anticipate anything."

"That’s the other thing, it's fantastic when things are amazingly received especially since it has such a built-in fan base. People love it almost before it even exists, which is fantastic. It's been very warm and lovely how everybody has received us."

HAS THE EXCITEMENT AROUND THE PROJECT SUNK IN YET?

"When I watched the first episode, 90% of me thought, this is really cool—cool because I was watching my friends on TV. But 10% of me thought that's the way I've done it; it’s permanent and that represents me now and that’s quite hard. It's easy to feel a bit existential about it, especially when you've started with theater and went to drama school."

"There's something amazingly ephemeral about theater and the fact that it doesn't exist anymore once it's happened."

"When you have something with a big budget and loads of people working on it who really believe in it, everyone is so engaged in how to serve the story best, but it's not the same as theater. When you wrap that's the scene."

"It doesn’t have anything to do with me anymore, and it's going to be made into something else."

"During a play, the only people who shared the moment was me and everyone else in the room, and then it goes out into the ether. I am on the journey of finding that on the screen because it's not the same."

ABSOLUTELY, IT’S A LITTLE BIGGER OF AN AUDIENCE—IT’S INSIDE PEOPLE’S HOME, BUT TIMES MILLIONS AND MILLIONS!

"Exactly—that's a nice way of thinking of it, that it is still being shared. With a show that comes out with one episode a week, there's something communal about that. It can be a talking point at the pub or work, which I really like. When Succession came out weekly, I was like, I'm so glad I'm alive to watch this week by week (laughs)."

YOU MENTIONED YOU GRADUATED FROM DRAMA SCHOOL, AND THIS WAS ONE OF YOUR FIRST ROLES.

"I did have one part before, The Last Kingdom, a Netflix show, which is about Vikings and Saxons. I was in my third year of school, and it was during that third year Covid came. So we were all sent home and we didn't ever have that closure."

"But also, you're doing an acting degree and you think, the thing I'm in denial about is that this might not even happen for me. Then suddenly theater doesn't exist and you're back in your childhood bedroom. I mean, worse things were going on in the world, but I think that when I got that part in The Last Kingdom, it felt like magic. I couldn't believe it."

"I got to go out to Budapest for eight months. The cast was so warm and welcoming. I got the House of the Dragon job while I was on that job. I had a bit of time to wait in between them, but it was time I could obsess about the scripts that I did have and all my ideas about her."

CAN YOU WALK ME BACK TO WHEN YOU ACTUALLY GOT THE PART?

"It did take a long time before I finally got the part of Helaena. They were using dummy sides from a scene of Arya’s from Game of Thrones. I did it and thought it was a long shot because every actor my age in the world was probably taping for that part. I knew it was good to be seen by the casting director, Kate Rhodes James. I didn't hear anything for a very long seven months."

"In Budapest, there were whispers that some of the actors were getting auditions for it. I didn’t think it was going to come through for me."

"Eventually, I got a notice saying, they didn’t want me for that part, but to audition for the part of Helaena. When I came home for Christmas, I did the tape. It's so rare when you do a tape where you think, that's a bit of me and I really want to do this. Then I was back in Budapest and I got a text that said they wanted to meet on Zoom."

"So I met with the casting director and the two showrunners, and that just went by in a complete blur. After, I felt like an alien a few days (laughs). I kept having to put myself to sleep in order to not feel worried. One day I woke up from one of those naps and I had a text that said, you've got the part."

YOU GET TEXTED THAT INFORMATION–THEY DON'T CALL YOU! AT LEAST A TEXT CAN BE PRINTED AND GO IN THE MUSEUM ARCHIVE. YOU CAN CREATE SOME MEMORABILIA!

"That's true. I think either way it would've gone, it would have been just me blacking out."

CAN YOU SHARE MORE ABOUT YOUR CHARACTER, HELAENA?

"What's interesting for me about Helaena is that she's in this unique situation. She's in the royal family and married to her brother, which she’s done for the family. It is a personal sacrifice."

"She's uncomfortable with what's expected of her. She doesn't like wearing those clothes. She doesn't like standing up there in front of the people and doesn't like being a figurehead or being projected on. She's got her own stuff that makes her feel safe and she wants to be in her own world."

"So we leave her growing up in a level of discomfort. For this season, I would describe it as a reckoning of what she's willing to accept and how far is too far. It's about family dynamics, inherited trauma, and the quest for us to understand each other."

IT MUST BE PRETTY FUN TO FILM THE SHOW ON THAT SET. ARE THERE ANY COOL MOMENTS THAT STAND OUT?

"The sets by set designer Jim Clay are incredible. They have built a castle inside the studios. I can walk into my bedroom, look around my bedroom, walk out, walk downstairs, the grand hall, go into my mother's bedroom, go upstairs, and go to the study."

"In a way, it's like a lazy actor's dream because you just look at something and it's real."

"My favorite moment of this year was when I got my first scenes that are properly in Helaena’s bedroom."

"She has this special interest in her insects and there are cabinets and cabinets filled with the most beautiful bugs and incredible things that had been designed to look like something that she would've sewn."

"She’s written notes all over her desk and dreams all over the wall along with these amazing drawings. I'm trying to think of the perfect way to describe it, but it was as imaginary as if somebody had created a child's imaginary world for them in real life."

WHAT ARE YOU MOST PROUD OF FROM YOUR WORK ON THE SERIES?

"That's a really big question. I'm proud I made a choice about this character and have stayed true to her. I try to make choices that are through the lens of specificity of this person."

"It's not even so much something to be proud of, but it's more like a gift that I'm in this position because you don't always get to play someone so particular. It's really exciting to get to make all of those choices for yourself."

SINCE YOU ARE THE START OF YOUR CAREER, ARE YOU SOMEBODY WHO HAS A VISION BOARD OF WHAT YOU'D LIKE TO ACHIEVE IN THE FUTURE?

"I go to the theater twice a week, so I almost see that as manifesting, just in that I put so much thought and energy into appreciating plays that I like. I'm letting it rub off on me."

"I'm also someone, who every time I watch a film, see a performance, or go and see a play I'm interested in, I log it somewhere. It’s a nice notch on the climbing ladder and helps in developing a strong sense of taste."

GROWING UP, WAS THERE SOMETHING THAT LEFT AN IMPRESSION ON YOU THAT INSPIRED YOU TO PURSUE ACTING?

"I was a kid who watched a lot of TV and films. I was really into Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I also did a huge amount of Shakespeare because nearby there was a small children's company that put on plays in the summer."

"I also had a crush on James Dean in films like East of Eden, but I also wanted to be Buffy."

"When you are in a small school and you're objectively the keenest person in the class, you get to play cool characters, parts that I would never play now in a million years. So I think of it all as influential."

IT’S SO INTERESTING WHEN SOMEONE HAS THAT FIRE FROM A YOUNG AGE AND THEN THEY PURSUE IT TO THE BIG LEAGUES.

"It's also about the positive energy of the people you have around you."

"I have had very supportive parents and teachers, so it didn't seem as much of an obstacle, but that's not the case for everyone."

DO YOU HAVE ANY FUN PLANS FOR THE SUMMER?

"I'm going to the End of the Road festival—I went last year for the first time and it was such a beautiful festival."

"I think I am going to go to Naples but I also hope I'm going to be doing a job."

"As an actor, you want to make these plans, but you also think, I could just stay home and wait by the phone instead and not do anything."

"But it's important to make the plans, but I kind of hope that something gets in the way."

[andreafmn]

I'm Not Afraid | Chapter 25

Word Count: 3.0K

Story Description: (Y/N) Argent arrived at Beacon Hills to put to rest her father’s sister, Kate Argent. For the first time, her family has decided to settle down and sustain a life in this interesting small town. After 17 years, (Y/N) has the opportunity to establish interpersonal relationships but will she be ready to face the complications that come with relating to her cousin’s, Allison, friends; especially, the infamous Derek Hale. She will face the adventure of being associated with the Derek and McCall pack, as well as being faced with the discovery of certain aspects of her life she never imagined.

A/N: this was meant to come out last week, but I noticed I never hit the post button 🫣

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Henry Argent could not believe his eyes.  

Raina Shetty was a woman he had not heard from in years. She had been his high school sweetheart, his first love—the one who got away, perhaps. They had met in middle school when she and her father had moved to Westbrook. For such a small and close-knit town, newcomers were always quite the spectacle. People whispered under their breath about them, speculating over what business her family could possibly have so far north. Being new didn't help anyone gain popularity, at least not the good kind.  

In school, kids cast Raina aside, pointing and theorizing about her. They all avoided her like a plague, preferring to listen to their parents' words rather than taking their time to learn about the new girl. Henry was one of the kids who was told to keep away from her—although he didn't quite understand why. And for a week, they listened to their parents. Like every other student, he avoided her in class and lunch, keeping his distance from the girl who intrigued him.  

Even in his young age, the boy could tell the rejection was affecting Raina. She walked with her head lowered through the halls and sat at an empty table in the cafeteria. On the bus, she sat by herself at the back, the entire row empty save for herself. Had it been anyone else, most kids would have rallied together to make her feel welcome, but Henry's father had far too much influence in their community. At that time, he didn't know just how much.  

After the first weekend of back-to-school had passed, he couldn't continue ignoring Raina. It wasn't who he was. It had taken everything in him to keep away from her, especially when he felt an undeniable pull toward the girl. That next Monday, instead of sitting as far away from her as possible, Henry decided to take a seat right in front of her, forcing their fellow students to erupt in whispers.  

“Hi, I'm Henry,” he had said as he extended his hand and gave her a warm smile. “I know it's hard being the new kid, but now you've got a friend to help you through it.”  

He would never forget the bright smile that spread across Raina's mouth at that moment. He could see all the sadness and pain of rejection shedding off her as she shook his hand. It had been a simple gesture, but it had meant the world to her. And it was the same smile that he saw as he stared at the figure towering over him.  

“I cannot believe it's you,” she chuckled as she released him, extending a hand to help him to his feet. “It's been quite a few years, huh?”  

“Only since senior year,” he said, wiping the dirt from his pants. “So, almost a decade.”  

“That's right. Eight years since the Argents up and left Maine without another word—well, not exactly without another word. Your dad made sure of that,” she said. “But I'm guessing if you're here, that must mean you're here to hunt. And if you are here, that must mean you are here to hunt my pack and me.”  

“Technically, I'm not supposed to be here at all,” Henry admitted. “Our case is actually at Fort Kent.” 

“Then, why are you here? Three hours away and by yourself.”  

“Well, I didn't know until now,” the man said. He took a tentative step toward her, noting her apprehension as her eyes flickered between his weapons. There was no reason for her to trust him, especially not after the way he left things many years before. “But it’s you. I’m here because of you, Rae.” 

The woman studied the man before her. Long gone was the boy she had loved, instead replaced by a man aged by the weight of his family and his responsibilities. He wasn't a young and naïve kid anymore but a trained and determined hunter, living day by day trying to become the spitting image of his father. She couldn't let her guard down, not when she wasn't sure if he was someone she could still trust. His family had left a bitter taste in her mouth, and time had not done enough to rid her of it. As much as she wanted to believe in him, she knew she had to be cautious to keep her and her pack safe. “So, it's me, then,” she said. “I'm your mission.”  

“What? No, you're not a mission, Raina,” he exclaimed. “It's just like what happened all those years ago. There's just something about you. I can't help but gravitate toward you, Rae.”  

In a desperate move to gain her trust, Henry threw his weapons toward her, including his backpack. “I have nothing else on me. You can check if you need to,” he said with his hands in the air. “I promise that I am not here to hunt. My team is still up at Fort Kent; probably pissed that I disappeared on them. But I had to follow this pull that was begging me to come here—begging me to find you. You know that for some reason, I can't help but want to be close to you.”  

Those very words had been the same he had spoken to her a year into their friendship, only moments before they confessed their feelings for each other. Their respective parents had warned them not to associate with each other—not that neither of them knew the reason why by then. In secret, they had decided then to become a couple. They would meet in the late hours of the night, sneaking through the woods that connected their town. Their meeting grounds were drowned in shadows, their voices disguised in the strokes of pens. They hid themselves from everyone's eyes, especially his brother and their friends. At school, they would act as nothing more than acquaintances so as not to raise any suspicion. And if anyone had any inkling of what was going on between them, they didn't say a thing. 

Their relationship lasted for years living in secret. As much as they wanted to shout from the rooftops about their love and care for each other, they knew their relationship would cause a rift in their community like no other. And that was only cemented a month after they made their relationship official.  

The pair had been set to meet in their usual spot one night close to a full moon. Henry was there first like he usually was. Sneaking out of the house had become second nature to the boy. With a father like Gerard Argent, the only way he could have even the semblance of a life was by being sly. For Raina, being disingenuous wasn't easy. She had a close relationship with her father and had never needed to lie to him.  

But when an hour and a half had passed, and she had yet to arrive, he got worried. As late as she could be from time to time, she had never done so without something as simple as a call—three rings and hang up if you're late, let it ring if you can't sneak out. That night, no phone rang. And although they had promised never to go to each other's house, Henry took off running in the direction of the Shetty home.  

Worst-case scenario thoughts filled his mind as he ran toward her. Even if it was from afar, all he wanted was to know she was safe. His legs moved faster than they had ever had in the past, his heart wrenching in his chest as he imagined what horrible fate could have befallen her. Still, nothing could have prepared him for what he encountered at the house. Had Henry been anyone else, he would never have understood what he had heard or seen through the basement window of Raina's home.  

Henry could hear muffled screams of pain as he neared the building. Quickly, he dropped to his knees and scurried to the only accessible window through the yard. If anyone had peeked into the backyard that night, they would have seen him crawling on the damp grass, trying to get a closer look at the source of the concerning sound. Yet, nothing could prepare him for it.  

Inside the room, Rahul Shetty was tightening a ring of screws onto his daughter's head as she roared in anger. In the dim light of the basement, he could make out Raina's chained hands and the claws that sprouted from the tips of her fingers. On her face, brown hair covered the sides of her face, and from her mouth, fangs overtook her teeth. It was a sight he had seen far too many times in his training, but not one he thought he would ever witness from someone he loved so much.  

Part of him wanted to burst into the house and keep the father from hurting her in an attempt to teach her control. The boy couldn’t stand the screams of agony or the roars of desperation coming from her, much less the glistening tears that fell from her eyes as the man tightened the screws. But there was another part that wanted to run away and never turn back. Now knowing the reason his father had told him to steer clear of the Shettys, he couldn't help his training from rising to the forefront of his mind.  

Before he had time to decide what to do, Raina's eyes fell on him as she let out a loud roar. Henry fell back onto the ground as her gaze startled him, her yellow eyes boring into him. His mind went blank as he scrambled to his feet and took off running back to his house. Thoughts spiraled and crashed inside his head, muddling his thoughts and beliefs. He was only a kid at the end of the day, and the only thing he had known for the past fifteen years of his life was that the supernatural were their natural-born enemies and always would be.  

But how could that be true when the one girl he loved belonged to that world? Raina, being a werewolf, went against everything he believed, and it made her a target in his father's eyes—not that the man didn't know already what she and her family were. At that moment, he understood why he was told to stay away from her, but it made him wonder just how little he knew of Raina and his relationship.  

That night, he found himself tossing and turning in his bed, muddled with images of his girlfriend in her basement. When he woke the very next day, his mind was made up. In order to protect her and himself, he needed to cut things off. As much as it pained him to lose her, it was the only way he could think of for his father not to take advantage of him to get to her family. It was the only thing he thought he could do.  

Yet, when he saw her at school, her look of nervousness and exhaustion stopped him in his tracks. He couldn't break her heart; he just couldn't. Instead, Henry did the only thing he thought he could and ignored her for the entirety of the day. The longer he could go avoiding her, the more he could postpone the inevitable. The only problem with his plan was that Raina was determined to speak to him, one way or another.  

“You can't keep avoiding me, Argent,” Raina said through greeted teeth as she dragged him into an empty classroom at the end of the day. It had been a long day of trying to get his attention, but he had sat on the other side of the room in the classes they shared together. He had seemingly disappeared during lunch, and he had been the first one out the door when the bell had rung. “I know you were at my house last night, and I know you saw me. We need to talk about it, especially why I hid it from you.”  

“No, we don't,” he replied. “Because if we do, you know what will happen.”  

“What? You'll tell your dad about me?”  

“No, I... I would never do that to you, Rae,” Henry whispered, tears stinging the back of his eyes. “I love you, and I don't want to lose you. But staying together only puts a target on your back.”  

“So, you want to end things.”  

“What other option is there? The longer we stay together, the more access my dad will have to you and your family, and I won't be that door for him,” the boy explained. His heart raced in his chest, chattering at the realization of the moment—that would be the last time he could ever call her his. “You mean more to me than anyone in this world, Raina. And if breaking up means that you are going to be safe, then I will do it. I would rather live with a broken heart than grieve you.”  

The girl's eyes softened at that moment. She had heard stories of the vicious Argent hunters from her father and his pack. He had warned her about them time and time again, especially when he decided to make a move to Maine, only a few streets away from the patriarch of the group. Rahul had tried everything in his power not to move back to Westbrook. But when his sister grew ill and needed the support of her brother and his pack, he had no other choice but to move to the hunter-ridden town and risk his family's safety. There, he enforced his disdain for the hunting family, telling her to keep as far away from any of the Argents as possible.  

But just like it had happened for Henry, she could not help but feel a certain magnetism toward the boy. At first, she thought it was the danger of being near him that allured her. Maybe tempting her fate was the thing that kept her going back to him even though she knew she shouldn't have. Maybe it was the fact that he had been the only student who'd had the courage to welcome her to the town and become her solace at a moment when she felt most alone. Maybe it simply was that he was different than his family—that is what she hoped for.  

And at that moment, staring at his teary eyes in the middle of an empty history classroom, she knew just how right she had been. He bit down on his bottom lip to stop it from quivering, the tears threatening to fall at any second. Henry was preparing for her confirmation, for their final goodbye. But Raina wasn't ready for that—not just yet.  

Instead, she had pressed her lips gently to his, cradling his cheek in a comforting caress. The boy melted into her touch, pulling her in by the waist as he breathed her in. Warm tears fell on her fingers as they kissed, her thumb wiping them away before they could stain the rest of his skin. “Your father doesn't have to know about us,” she whispered, resting her forehead on his as they came up for air. “I'm not ready to say goodbye just yet. We'll make it work—make us work.”  

She had been right to trust him then, and she believed it was right to trust him now. Taking hold of the guns, she motioned for him to put down his arms. “That's not necessary, Henry,” she smiled. “I trust you.”     

“Really?” 

“Why do you sound so surprised?” she chuckled. “You don't think I should?”  

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, his mouth stretching into a grin. “I thought you’d be a bit more stubborn about it. You’re really losing your edge there, Raina.”  

“We could go back to fighting if that's what you prefer,” the woman smirked. “Show you who's got the upper hand here, Argent.”  

“Oh, I know it's always been you. I'd never trick myself into 

 thinking otherwise.”  

The two shared a laugh like no time had passed between them. Their energy was comfortable and natural, and just as ignited as it had been many years ago. They quipped and teased, smiled and laughed. Nothing had changed between them; no love had been lost.  

“Well, then, I guess if you're here by pure chance, you don’t really have any sleeping accommodations.”  

“I have a tent,” he said. “And I think I might have a blanket in my car.”  

“Don't be stupid,” Raina laughed. “You can stay with us.”  

“Us?”  

“Me and my pack. We've been hiding out here for the better part of a month, trying to lay low.”  

Her words took him aback, and he suddenly remembered why he had come to Maine. “Lay low from what, Rae?”  

“We had been up in Fort Kent up until recently,” she admitted. “Until someone started slaughtering people around us and making it seem like it had been us.”  

“Were their chests slashed open? Very deep, almost inhuman?”  

“How did you know that?” the woman questioned as her brow furrowed in curiosity. “It's what ran us out of town. They were using our pack's symbol, and I feared it was a sign that it was us they were after.”  

“That's the case I'm supposed to be on,” he said. “And I don't think this was by chance.”  

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[nadas-dirthalen]

I Saw Solas's Origin in an Achievement Icon and It Opened My Eyes on 15 Years of Lore

— PART SIX: if you haven't read previous parts, do it now! —

[ 1 ] [ 2 ] [ 3 ] [ 4 ] [ 5 ] [ 7 ] [ 8 ] [ 9 ] [ 10 ]

Welcome, friends and travellers! I wanted to get some thoughts recorded before Veilguard's release so I could see if I am right about an absolute BOATLOAD of theories I have.

In short: I saw the achievement list when it was released. I have seen the backstory hints for Solas included in said list. AND MY MIND WAS BLOWN.

You have been warned: THIS COLLECTION OF THEORIES INCLUDES SPOILERS FOR EVERY DRAGON AGE GAME AND ALL PROMOTIONAL MATERIAL UP TO AND INCLUDING OCTOBER 18, 2024.

Come sit down with me. Make a nice cup of tea (and hide it from Solas). We've got a lot of unpacking to do.

(no, this photo isn't the spoiler, I just like it.)

Today's Discussion: The Tragedy of the Evanuris (2/3)

— The Many Horrors Enacted Upon the Faithful —

As ever, please please pretty please go back and read the earlier parts of this series if you haven't already! I promise, there is a mountain of context that I don't reiterate in every post that I make, and I feel it is important for everything I say here and going forward.

Last post, we went over how the crimes/misdeeds of the Evanuris got their start: Mythal and her lyrium coffins, feeding dreams to spirits like Solas in order to turn them away from their Titans. From there, the experiments could begin: Elgar'nan with sundering the spirits that (I believe) would become Falon'Din and Dirthamen; Falon'Din then "blackening the heart" of a Titan. Crucially, all of these actions can be found symbolically represented by their corresponding vallaslin.

Bearing in mind that I don't want to guess at the specific chronology of all the Evanuris's deeds and crimes, I'm still going to sort these posts by gods, not by actions/year. This time, I want to talk about the crimes that continued from there as things began to spiral downward into incomprehensible horror.

Sylaise and the Scaled Ones

June, Architect of the Geas

Dirthamen: What Were His Secrets, and Where Is He Now?

If you're wondering where a certain very notable two Evanuris are on this list, don't worry: this post has three planned instalments. ;)

Sylaise and the Scaled Ones

Sylaise is known as the Heartkeeper in Dalish legend. She is a goddess of healing and knowledge. For a long time, I wondered what she could possibly have done to earn Solas's ire, for all the Evanuris are his mortal enemies. We know so little about her, don't we?

Let's start with what we do know.

It is Sylaise who gave us fire and taught us how to use it. It is Sylaise who showed us how to heal with herbs and with magic, and how to ease the passage of infants into this world. And again, it is Sylaise who showed us how to spin the fibers of plants into thread and rope.

Sylaise is clearly a goddess of fire and a healer and helper of the People, in Dalish legend. In this way, she gives me the same "vibes" as the Greek god Prometheus. Now, while I am no scholar on Greek mythology, I remember Prometheus as strongly associated with fire, and the creator of humans. I hadn't given much thought to the latter until now. But now, with the understanding that the Evanuris's crimes stem from the creation of the People?

I turned back to the Song to Sylaise, from the Temple of Mythal.

Sylaise, whose heat rivals Elgar'nan's light. Sylaise, whose temples rival Mythal's cities. Sylaise, whose breath rivals Andruil's spear. Sylaise, whose skill rivals June's craft. Sylaise, whose fire cannot be quenched. We give ourselves gladly to your service.

Let's draw connections between the Evanuris we have covered so far.

"whose heat rivals Elgar'nan's light" — now that we know that not only was Elgar'nan famous for his uncontrollable anger, but that he apparently sundered "the sun and the moon," I am wondering if this speaks not to Sylaise's potential anger, but her apparent affinity for forging and/or sundering spirits.

"whose temples rival Mythal's cities" — I always suspected this had to do with the population of Sylaise's temples, but before this month, before this spoilers, I had assumed those faithful had come willingly. That they were devotees who chose to live in her temples. What could be so bad about that? Well, now we know: Sylaise's temples rivaling Mythal's cities may well refer to how she created more people than Mythal.

"whose skill rivals June's craft" — we'll get to June in a moment, but I believe that June was crafting with lyrium, and that fits Sylaise in this context. Clearly she was shaping lyrium-spirits into something, and I believe this line says she did so with unparalleled mastery.

"Sylaise, whose fire cannot be quenched" — this shows me that the association with fire in Dalish legend holds true here, as well, albeit in a far more vicious light. That means, to find other references of Sylaise throughout the games and established lore, we should hunt for mentions of fire and the creation of people.

We need look no further than the Scaled Ones. Though they are chronicled as existing after the time of Ancient Elvhenan, I believe that they are Sylaise's invention: her armies stronger than Elgar'nan's, forged from something sturdier than skin; more populous than Mythal's; more well-crafted than June's (again, we'll get there).

We can also connect the Scaled Ones to the serpentine imagery present in Sylaise's vallaslin.

Torches would suddenly go out, leaving us to stumble though the dark and trip over discarded caravans. Then came the attacks, hard and fast. Father was one of the first. We heard breathing: slow and heavy, from a creature much larger than us. Father held out his arm and grabbed the front of my armor to make me stop. I saw its shadow move, darker than the darkness, and then my body jerked forward. It left Father's arm hanging, still grasping my chestplate.

The Scaled Ones had dominion over fire magic, it looks like: they could snuff out entire torches at a distance.

The Scaled Ones had set up a camp at an intersection in the Deep Roads. In the center there was a golden altar fashioned in the shape of fire. A chill swept through me. On the tip of each flame hung the corpses of those we'd lost—including Father and Drohg. They'd been drained of blood, leaving only bone wrapped in grey skin.

They also seem to worship this fire, which we know can still be associated with Sylaise outside of Dalish legend. They also seem to be harvesting the blood of those they've slain: in this case, dwarves. Blood magic, historically, is used to alter minds and to bind things. It could be that the Scaled Ones are keeping up with Sylaise's practice.

Or...

A robed Scaled One stood before the altar. Its voice was different from the others: softer, almost feminine. It chanted and raised a basin of blood towards the altar. The other Scaled Ones bowed low. The robed Scaled One produced fire from its palm and mouth and ignited the blood.

It could be that she lives on, somehow: a fire mage of unchecked power, with skin of the same scales that she forged in others. Watch for that in the post after next.

I still wish I knew more about Sylaise, and I wish I had time to go through everything I think about the Scaled Ones and their potential relationships with the kossith and/or Taash. But Sylaise's existence and the existence of the Scaled Ones do tell me that Ghilan'nain is far from the only Evanuris to have done biological experiments with her creations.

That sets a precedent for all the others, and I will continue to go on to describe why.

June, Architect of the Geas

For the little we know of Sylaise, we know even less of June. We know that he was the Dalish god of crafts, either husband or sibling to Sylaise (as much as the Dalish can even name the Evanuris's relationships accurately). The Dalish associate an unsolvable puzzle toy called "June's Knot" with him. The High Keepers of June seem to have been smiths.

I feel like this codex from the Vir Dirthara is trying to say the same thing:

The pages of this book—memory?—describe a heated argument between a group of well-dressed elves inside an elaborately arched pavilion on an island floating in a void. In the distance, haloed by a blizzard of light, thousands of elves are maintaining an elaborate magical ritual that pulls raw essence from the Fade, funneled into a sphere in the air. Through the lens of the sphere can be seen a world of indigo waterfalls and rust-red jungles, and a temple palace so frescoed and cleverly carved, it is a masterpiece in itself. The well-dressed elves' shouting grows so loud, it can be heard over the magic. One leaps at another, howling and pulling out a knife burning with prismatic flame. "Architects of the Grand Sonallium (a gift from Blessed Sylaise to Clever June as thanks for a great favor) in friendly debate over the color of the palace's roof trim."

However, he is never depicted with any of the tools that the Dalish associate with him. It's his architects who arguing here, one with a prismatic blade. Whether the blade belongs to June, there's more going on here than just common building and tool usage.

Rather than June's role changing over time, I think something else is true of June, and I see it when I look at his vallaslin.

Like the other Evanuris, he seems to have vallaslin designed reminiscent of lyrium branches. However, June's are all bent and woven very deliberately, in a more mechanical-looking fashion than Ghilan'nain's and Sylaise's. Even more important to me, though? They closely resemble Fenris's lyrium tattoos.

Considering that Fenris's slaver, Danarius, got the knowledge of how to embed lyrium beneath the skin from an "ancient treatise," it is possible that this knowledge was obtained from June's own notes. After all: in the codex with the Sonallium, has anyone made note of the thousands of slaves maintaining the magic around it?

Therefore, I believe June was the creator of the first geas, and the first vallaslin may have used geas magic to force the ancient elves into servitude.

To take it one step further and check my belief against other pieces of lore, I posit looking at one more source: the whisperings of June's archdemon.

I long wondered which archdemon might belong to June, but when I read the Chant of Light this week (again), I noticed something. The names of the archdemons' high priests are indicative, potentially, of which Evanuris they belonged to.

There is an Architect mentioned. Many of you may already be familiar with the name. The Architect is cited as the High Priest of Beauty: the old god of Beauty is cited in World of Thedas as being Urthemiel.

Per the Chant of Light:

The High Priest of Beauty, Architect of the Works of Beauty, designed Every work and wonder of the Imperium according to the plans of his god.

Remember how I mentioned that I believe the archdemons were puppeted by the Evanuris while they were imprisoned? This is no exception, and I'd like to draw attention to what the old god of Beauty whispered to his Architect.

And to him, Beauty revealed a grand plan: "Open the gates. And when you stand before me, I shall give you designs That shall rival the greatness of heaven. I will make you the First among the new gods, And you will build a paradise on earth."

To me, "designs that shall rival the greatness of heaven" should be interpreted in what the Evanuris would think of as greatness: limitless power, bending the very bounds of what should be physically possible, shattering common morality. When I read, "will make you First among the new gods," then, I cannot help but imagine the Architect of Beauty being given designs to help build an army of always-willing soldiers: ones operating under a geas. No great work would be impossible, in such an instance.

Thus, we have another facet in the tragedy of the Evanuris, the reason that all of them needed not just to be killed, but imprisoned, their works destroyed and never again recreated. Along with the ability to craft people with lyrium, to sunder spirits, and "blacken" the hearts of titans, the Evanuris used lyrium to create endless armies of seemingly "willing" slaves.

But even Urthemiel and his Architect were not first among the old gods or their followers. To understand the tragedy of the Evanuris and the complications in all of Solas's plans to stop them, we must look further into the Chant, and further into the Evanuris.

Silence, and his Evanuris: the Keeper of Secrets, Dirthamen.

Dirthamen: What Were His Secrets, and What Don't We Know?

I, like many others, assumed Dumat must be Elgar'nan's archdemon until a little while ago. But knowing Elgar'nan is alive and must still have his own, plus reexamining the Chant of Light and looking at DA:I with a more critical eye have shown me differently.

First among the Old Gods was Silence. His least whisper could end wars or topple Archons. A single word could turn recrimination into glory. The sacred fires of his temple burned Rare incense, and the trees of Arlathan, and lapped at the bones of slaves While his altars dripped with the blood of sacrifices that never dried.

Elgar'nan is not one to work with silence, nor whisper to topple an Archon. That doesn't seem like the way he would puppet an archdemon.

No mortal foot could tread those halls, No hand knocked upon the gate. Secrets beyond measure were the keys The Choir of Silence would need, and they had few. (7) And so the First Acolyte spoke to the High Priest And said: "We are the masters of secrets, But our god demands more.

Dirthamen is the Keeper of Secrets, and so I first looked to Dumat for clues on what, precisely, his worst deeds were. But then, the title hit me again. Keeper of Secrets.

What is a secret, I ask you, but a thought no one can know about? And in our understanding of the Evanuris, of spirits, and of Thedas itself, what is a thought but a spirit?

I dove into codices, because of course I did.

No beast is more beloved by Dirthamen than the bear. When the world was new, Dirthamen gave one secret to each creature to keep.

Let's rephrase this Dalish legend. Every time we read "secret," let us read "spirit." When we read, "gave one secret to each creature to keep," let us ask ourselves how it would sound with, "bound one spirit to each creature," therefore creating abominations.

The foxes traded their secrets to Andruil for wings. The hares shouted theirs to the treetops. The birds sold theirs for gold and silver.

It seems like this is describing what happened to each creature who gained Dirthamen's secrets. Foxes suddenly sprouted wings (sound like everyone's favourite Veilguard assassin to anyone?). The hares shouted theirs to the treetops.

Except, wait a minute, I know something about Dirthamen and trees.

He whispered into the mountains and the fallen trees of the forest gathered, shaping an immense and agile spider-like beast. It was the varterral. With lightning speed, vicious strikes, and venomous spit, it drove back the serpent. From then on, it was the guardian of the city and its people.

Whispered into the mountains sounds a lot like pulling "thoughts" from the mountains, or depositing "thoughts" into those mountains. Afterward, trees bend and warp around one another, forming the varterral.

Only the bears kept Dirthamen's gift, deep within their dens, they slept the months away in the company of their secrets and nothing else. When Dirthamen discovered what had been done with his gifts, he snatched the wings from the foxes, silenced the voices of the hares, and turned the birds into paupers. but the bears he honored for their steadfastness.

Bears, according to the wiki, can become enraged. Sounds a lot like something that might be possessed by Rage, no?

It did not stop at animals. We have the Temple of Dirthamen to look at, after all.

We few whisper here where shadow dwells. Some words remain unuttered. Truths are pushed down, down Where they shall never arise again.

Truths pushed down, down. Truths, like secrets, are based in thought. And when we think of thought with regard to Titans, spirits, and the Evanuris, we must think spirits. Spirits that are pushed down, down, never to rise again—because the priests of the Lost Temple of Dirthamen have committed to holding them.

Dirthamen is gone, he said. Our Highest One brings to us this gravest news. What shall we do? Where shall we go? What of the old secrets that burn within our hearts?

Our Highest One, he deceives us. The honeyed words that drip from his tongueWe know the despair they mask. We disciples of Dirthamen know truth, now as ever.

If we think about these priests as people who have been forced to harbor spirits, suddenly "the honeyed words that drip from his tongue / We know the despair they mask," takes on a whole new meaning. A capital-D Despair meaning.

Let's return, then, to the Conductor of Silence listening to his old god. The old god—puppeted by Dirthamen—required so many secrets that the priests did not know how to fulfill such a request. Masters of secrets, how could they possibly gain more? Well, now we know "secrets" and "spirits" to be interchangeable. The priests needed souls.

What happened next?

(2) In the Great Choir of Silence, the High Priests gathered. A hundred chosen acolytes brought lyrium Enough to drown a city in chiming silver And slaves beyond counting to the temple In accordance with the designs of their gods.

Lyrium and souls were brought to the temple. Lyrium, souls, and blood.

Only, the Magisters did not find Dirthamen, once they entered the Golden City.

(11) Above them, a river of Light, Before them the throne of Heaven, waiting, Beneath their feet The footprints of the Maker, And all around them echoed a vast Silence.

They heard him.

(12) But when they took a single step Toward the empty throne A great voice cried out Shaking the very foundations Of Heaven and earth:

We know that this is not the Maker. The Maker, by this time, probably exists in a sundered state, sleeping, as all Titans are. This has to be someone in the Golden City. Someone who, perhaps, knew the Magisters were coming.

(13) And So is the Golden City blackened With each step you take in my Hall. Marvel at perfection, for it is fleeting. You have brought Sin to Heaven And doom upon all the world. (14) Violently were they cast down, For no mortal may walk bodily In the realm of dreams, Bearing the mark of their Crime: Bodies so maimed And distorted that none should see them And know them for men.

The Magisters were cast out, all of them blighted. But nothing could have attacked them, and we know from all the Dragon Age games that simply being around the blight isn't enough to get out protagonists sick with it.

Someone had to be there to inflict it upon them—someone who Corypheus, Conductor of Silence, would have been expecting to find, and dismayed to not be finding. He looked upon the throne of his god, after all, and found it empty.

Dirthamen is the only one of the Evanuris whose vallaslin has evolved over time. The first one evokes imagery of a broken gate on its forehead, surrounded by triangles: a symbol for the Veil.

The second, on Bellara, is newer—and not available to the player. Unique to her. It looks as though it features two birds on either side of a third eye. An all-seeing third eye.

We know a few things about Dirthamen, from all of this speculation. The "secrets" that Dirthamen kept were likely spirits and demons, which he bound to trees, animals, and people. His archdemon, Dumat, made demands on his behalf for endless "secrets" to get into the Golden City: endless spirits.

Dirthamen may have been the only one of the Evanuris to break free of his prison on his own, blighting the Magisters Sidereal.

But he would not be the only one to manipulate the blight, and he would not be the only one to escape his confines.

---

As ever, if you got this far, thank you!! I look forward to reading any additions or questions people might have, as ever!!

Also: I am trying my hardest not to consume full-game-review spoilers! As these reviews have just gone live today (10/28), I am not reading my notifications/replies, and am appearing here only to continue posting my theories.

But if you feel like sticking around anyway, stay tuned for: The Tragedy of the Evanuris pt. 3: Pestilent Doom Upon All the World.

[robinbuckleysfringe]

you are in love.

tom blyth social media au

pairing: tom blyth x reader

warnings: none

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

1 year later

*yninstagram has posted*

tagged joekeery, nataliadyer, maya_hawke, sadiesink, calebmclaughlin, gatenm123, noahschnapp, milliebobbybrown, finnwolfhard, josephquinn & strangerthings

liked by tomholland2013, rachelzegler, tomblyth, florencepugh and others

yninstagram in honour of season 5 finally being released, here's some bts pics from earlier seasons that never made it to the 'gram. love to all involved with making this final season such a blast ❤️

View comments

tomblyth proud of you!! can't wait to watch!!

↪️ rachelzegler watch party at yours then, yeah?

↪️ hunterschafer omw 🫶🏻

↪️ joshandresrivera rach said to tell you that we're getting on the next plane to see you, so don't start the final season till we're there 💕

↪️ yninstagram oh my goshhhh, love you guys 🥺🥺🥺💕💕💕💕

florencepugh cannot wait to watch you shine ❤️⭐️⭐️⭐️

↪️ yninstagram 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

strangerthings it's been a pleasure 🫶🏻

↪️ yninstagram 🫶🏻

gatenm123 thanks for being the best onscreen sister. already missing you ❤️

↪️ yninstagram love you gaten ❤️

sadiesink we all love you!!! thanks for keeping the boys in check 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

↪️ yninstagram 🫡❤️

joekeery thanks for making the last few years so much fun and parenting these children with me xx

↪️ yninstagram love you forever joe 🫡🫶🏻💕

milliebobbybrown aww, missing you already y/n ❤️❤️❤️

↪️ yninstagram miss you too mils ❤️

josephquinn congrats on the final season x

↪️ yninstagram thanks joe. wish you could've been there, set felt quiet without you this season 💔😥

user can't believe it's the final season 😭😭😭😭

user I'm so excited!!

user don't know if I can bring myself to watch, I don't want the show to end!! 😭😭😭

user ahhhhh!!!! so excited to finally watch it!!

☆☆☆

*yninstagram has posted*

tagged tomblyth

liked by rachelzegler, jacobelordi, zendaya, hunterschafer and others

yninstagram one year of loving you. happy anniversary love ❤️🫶🏻😘

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tomblyth love you sweetheart ❤️😘

↪️ yninstagram love you too ❤️❤️❤️

rachelzegler obsessed with the way Tom is holding lenny. happy anniversary guys 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

↪️ yninstagram love you rach ❤️

↪️ tomblyth thanks rach xx

hunterschafer congrats on finally becoming insta official xxx

↪️ yninstagram thanks hunter 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

user omg they're actually together???

user I know they've been rumoured together since beginning of 2024 but it stills feels crazy for y/n to drop this on us

user omg tom and lenny 🥺🥺🥺

user the 3rd pic 🥹🥹🥹. they look so happy together 🥺🥺🥺

user omg mum and dad are actually dating!!!

user they're so cute wtf

user stopppp this is so cute!!!!!

☆☆☆

*tomblyth has posted*

tagged yninstagram

liked by rachelzegler, yninstagram, joshandresrivera, hunterschafer and others

tomblyth happy anniversary my love, can't wait to see what the next year brings us ❤️

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yninstagram love you big time 😘🥰❤️

↪️ tomblyth love you ❤️

rachelzegler you guys are too cute 😍😍😍

↪️ yninstagram rach stopppp 🥺🥺🥺

hunterschafer ❤️

user tom's first post in ages and its for their anniversary??? I can't 🥹🥹🥹

user they're literally so cute together wtf

user so iconic of them to go insta official with an anniversary post tbh

user I want what they have so bad omg 😭😭😭

user they're so in love omg 🥺🥺

☆☆☆

*yninstagram has posted*

tagged zendaya, tomholland2013, rachelzegler, joshandresrivera, tomblyth & hunterschafer

yninstagram a little snippet of recent life 🐶🫶🏻💕

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tomholland2013 it was so lovely to see you again x

↪️ yninstagram miss you guys 🫶🏻🫶🏻

zendaya aw, love you y/n 💕

↪️ yninstagram love you Z

joshandresrivera do you think we'll be allowed back in that restaurant?

↪️ yninstagram absolutely not

↪️ user omg, what happened??

rachelzegler you did me so dirty with that photo. I really look like I don't wanna be there

↪️ yninstagram we were basically 3rd wheeling while our boyfriends went out on a date

↪️ rachelzegler 100%

tomblyth loved our double date with rach and josh

↪️ yninstagram you mean your date with josh and me and rach 3rd wheeling

↪️ joshandresrivera 😂 love you, man x

hunterschafer haven't seen you in so long!!! miss you already girly!!! 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

↪️ yninstagram miss you tooooo!!!!! 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

user need me a friend that takes cute pictures of me like that

user y/n's really living the best life out here

user omg tom and zendaya are so cute!!!

user omgggg love that photo of tom, josh and rachel!!

user rachel's face has me creasing omg 😂😂😂

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

one more part left of this little series :((

[tired-gae]

reverence (entirely undeserved) - A Dashingfrost Oneshot

Written for 2023 Fictober prompt #3, "Okay, show me."

Fandom: Thor (Movies)

Rating: General Audiences

No warnings!

Summary:

Loki’s gaze snapped up to his face, only to find him looking earnestly back. He swallowed thickly and messed with the hem of his shirt, the silk starting to thin where he fiddled with it so much. “It’s not pretty.” He warned, trying to dissuade him.

“I would most likely disagree.” Fandral said, letting a small smile grace his features. “I find it hard to believe that any part of you could be anything less than stunning.”

OR

Loki shows Fandral his Jotun form and begins on a path of- if not self-acceptance, then allowing himself to be loved.

Originally posted: October 3rd, 2023

Wordcount: 1,364

---

On a moonless night in Loki’s chambers, Loki and Fandral sat alongside one another. These kinds of nights were often the only time they could carve out for each other, with Fandral’s duties and Loki’s current impersonation of the king keeping them apart. As such, the late hour tended to loosen their lips, and some of their most meaningful conversations happened on these nights. Tonight is a good example of this. 

Some nights, Loki read, carding through Fandral’s golden hair where he rested his head upon the other’s legs. Some nights, they shared anecdotes, making up for lost years. On those nights, the air seemed to move around them, carrying their voices like wind, lifting the sounds out the window to shield them from prying ears. Other nights, nights like these, they couldn’t bother with any of that. On nights like these, the air seems still. 

“You... know of my true heritage.” 

“I do.” Fandral said without hesitation. Loki, posing as Odin, had been slowly twisting the narrative the Aesir had on Jotunheim as a whole. Within the past few years, the public’s view on the Jotnar had shifted from ‘savages and horrible monsters’ into ‘a people in need of Asgard’s help after being released from centuries of tyranny.’ It wasn’t exactly a favorable view, but you cannot un-instill the millennias of elitism taught to the Aesir people. Pity, he supposed, was better than malice. Only a few months ago, he had revealed to the public Loki’s true heritage, in hopes that any love they still held for their dishonored prince would be the tipping point to change the people’s views. It had worked for the most part, as before Loki’s reported death, he’d had equally as many allies as he did enemies. 

“Did you know before I told the public?” Loki asked quietly. He was genuinely curious if Thor had immediately told his companions of Loki’s true parentage, when the King and Queen no doubt told him after Loki’s assumed death. 

“No.” Fandral answered truthfully. “I... didn’t. Have you always known, or is it something you learned recently?” Of course, by recently, he could mean in the last century, or the last year. Time references like that get complicated when you live to the ages that the Aesir (and the Jotnar, he supposed) do. 

It takes a bit for Loki to find the words. “Thor’s banishment. That’s around the time I discovered it. Right before Odin fell into the Odinsleep.” 

Fandral’s eyebrows furrowed, not that Loki could see it happen, the way they were faced away from each other. “That’s... less than a decade ago.” Loki nodded in response, which Fandral did see happen, because he had turned his head in surprise. He shifted his body to face the other man, which after a moment, Loki mirrored. Facing each other now, they still could see very little of each other’s expressions in the low light. 

“Well, I’d say,” Fandral started slowly, “That for someone who recently found out they’d been lied to their entire life, you’re coping quite well, all things considered.” 

At this, Loki scoffed. “I’d hardly call attempting genocide and subsequently throwing myself off the Bifrost when I failed ‘coping well.’” He’d been a fool, to think he could gain Odin’s worthless approval at that point. He’d thought that maybe, if he levelled a strike against the Jotnar that was truly devastating, he could prove he wasn’t one of them. (To whom he wanted to prove that, he isn’t sure.) Or, if it went differently, and he successfully ran the Jotnar extinct, then he’d be the only one left. If there were no Jotnar left, then him being one wouldn’t mean anything anymore. It was a foolish hope, and one made of rash desperation. He knew the exact death toll that came of it, now that he was king. He won’t soon forget it. 

Fandral expertly avoided that topic of conversation, likely not wanting to think about the devastation caused by his lover’s hand. “Have you ever seen it?” 

“Seen what?” 

“Your Jotun form.” Fandral replied easily, and Loki took a sharp breath. 

He held the breath, letting it out a few moments later, when he had gathered his thoughts. “No. I haven’t, not fully. What I have seen of it is... horrible. I wanted to tear the skin off when I saw it, down to the bone if I needed to in order to see something other than blue.” He admitted. 

Fandral frowned at the description. “Do you really think it looks that horrifying?” 

Loki nodded. “I’ve tried to look at it before, in a mirror. I could never manage to open my eyes to see it. I was too afraid of what would be staring back at me.” 

“Okay, show me.” 

Loki’s gaze snapped up to his face, only to find him looking earnestly back.  

Fandral reached up and brushed a strand of hair out of his face. “Let me be the judge. You’re scared of seeing yourself like that, but I know you, and I know you’re curious. You don’t even have to open your eyes while it happens. But if you wanted someone to see it, you could show me.” 

Loki swallowed thickly and messed with the hem of his shirt, the silk starting to thin where he fiddled with it so much. “It’s not pretty.” He warned, trying to dissuade him. 

“I would most likely disagree.” Fandral said, letting a small smile grace his features. “I find it hard to believe that any part of you could be anything less than stunning.” And wasn’t that a wonder. Here in front of him sat a man who spent his entire life fed nothing but stories of how the Jotnar ate their young and killed his people, and yet he looked into the eyes of one with nothing but adoration (and a barely noticeable hint of sorrow). 

Because of this, or maybe in spite of it, (would he rather see disgust in his lover’s eyes, if it validated his own?) he closed his eyes and removed the glamour. It felt like peeling off a fake skin, and in a way, he supposed, it was. He didn’t open his eyes again until the whole dreadful process was over, and when he did, he had trouble suppressing the shudder that overcame him when he saw the cobalt hue of his hands. He had only ever seen them twice before now, when he used the casket, before his fall off the Bifrost. The markings that were etched into his hands were morbidly familiar, despite knowing that he had no reason to recognize them. 

He risked a glance upwards at Fandral’s face, only to see that nothing had changed in the way he was gazing at him. It almost angered him. How is it, that his own hands are trembling as he can barely stand to look at them, but the man that only a number of years ago would have drawn his sword at the sight of his skin could look at him with such reverence? 

Fandral gently took Loki’s hands into his own. Loki immediately wants to jerk them away for fear his skin would burn him. It doesn’t. Fandral tenderly traced the ridges on his hands, trailing up to where they disappeared beneath his long sleeves. It’s a blessing, Loki thought privately, that he wears such concealing clothing. He didn’t think he could bear to see much more of this skin. Fandral moved a hand to his face, now, and Loki let his eyes flutter closed as he began to trace the markings on his cheeks. He traced the lines along his jaw, drawing a crude map of the face for him. If he couldn’t bear to look at it, he at least deserved to have an idea. The touch was fleeting, unbearably light as it travelled up to trace the circular ridges along his forehead. 

The hand dropped eventually, finding no more lines to map. Fandral took Loki's hands again, placing light kisses to the top of his head. Loki let his forehead fall onto Fandral's shoulder, ignoring how suffocatingly beautiful it felt to be adored so thoroughly. 

[tookishcombeferre]

I'm about to write something absolutely crazy, but hear me out. I want y'all to listen to these two songs and tell me there isn't some very distinctive similarities in key, notes, and words.

Please forgive the interruption from the nerdy 13 year old who still lives inside my head. As we age, we are still all the ages we once were, and the little 13 year old kid who longed to play Jekyll on Broadway demands to be heard. I have *long* been obsessed with the musical and the novella "The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde." I am auditioning for the show at a community theater (but the child inside me is fawning over the chance to play the role anywhere.) As such, I have been spending a good deal of time with the music. And, I just noticed something I *cannot* un-notice. This is the last time I will be rational in this entire post. Both characters, Jekyll and Cedric, "center" around the same "power note" - F#4/ G4. (Jekyll's highest note in the whole show is an "A4" and that's only when he's "screaming." A4 is usually Hyde's sort of "manic" note. Though, the actor has to sing both. It's ... it's a lot. Trust me.) Both characters, at this point in their story, have been put in this position due to public humiliation. (Jekyll due to a rejection of his scientific theory by the "Board of Governors" at the medical hospital at which he presented his research, and Cedric because of bullying and being a social outcast most of his life - as the song explains.) Now, the major difference is, up to this point, Jekyll has been an upstanding and moral dude. He honest to goodness believes that he can rid the entire world of evil by separating good and evil from people. He wants to end war. He wants to cure insanity. He's a good dude with a big heart. However, bro-bro is about to create evil in himself and go absolutely coo-coo for cocoa puffs in like 20 minutes. But, that's neither here nor there. Musically these songs *feel* the same, and I would argue that "This is the Moment" could have been a musical influence ON this song. The idea of an internal war between good and evil - "polar twins that are constantly struggling" - as Jekyll says at the very beginning of the musical. Is the ENTIRE THEME OF THIS SONG. In fact, most of Cedric's music up to this point has centered around the F#4/G4 note. Which, is also the power note for Jekyll throughout the WHOLE MUSICAL of Jekyll and Hyde. (Something I find just fascinating is that there are some STRONG parallels between Jekyll's music in this show and Cedric's throughout the show. Like it goes beyond this song, and it's like REALLY, REALLY strong. Not saying the creators were doing anything there, but I find it really interesting. And they *BREAK* the association as soon as the redemption happens. Cedric's music is happier and bouncier post-redemption. The minor key polar-twin struggle is GONE! UGH!!!!!!!!!! I cannot! It's FASCINATING! I wish I had more appearances from him in season 4 to know if that was intentional. Because, even when he fights with Cordelia, it's NOT written in the Jekyll KEY! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

Jekyll is a soft character who has a really bad thing happen to him. In the end, it's because of his own dumb decision to poison himself. But, in his mind, he feels pigeonholed into making that choice because of other people's prejudice against him. At the point that he sings this balad, his reputation is *completely* destroyed. He has no other choice than to experiment on himself. (Or, at least he thinks so.) Then, after Hyde is released, he's stuck in the pits of warring between the good and the evil within himself because of this one crap decision that he has, somewhat inadvertently, made. But, he ends up in complete isolation with no one to help him by a series of his own, again, poor impulsive decisions. So, he goes completely banana pancakes because he's a tragic hero in a Victorian era morality play. Thus, like all good tragic heroes, Jekyll must die. (He's so complicated and beyond impulsive, your honor, I love him.) Obvs, this does *not* happen to Cedric. We get a nice redemption arc instead. Which, I wish is what happened for my boy Jekyll because the Victorians did him dirty. So, looking beyond the plot and notes, the *words* are incredibly striking. The number of times the word "great/ greatest" comes up in "This is the Moment" is a lot especially near the end. Additionally, the idea of loneliness, isolation, aloneness, and the overcoming of that isolation into greatness is a major theme in both lyrics. The music swells surrounding "I'll prove to them I made it on my own" & "This is the moment/the greatest moment/ of them all" and "I've always had so much to prove/I will not hesitate/ It's time for me to make my move and be/ King Cedric the Great." I'm just saying that if the creators can draw influence from Gulliver's Travels and numerous other really bizarre pieces of classical literature. I fail to see why a super-duper subtle reference to Jekyll and Hyde is off the table? (Is Hyde Wormwood????????????? - Wait a ... nooooooooooooooooo ... more on that later. Separate post. Pip. Separate post. I'm still team Wormwood redemption. But, that's because I believe in the unification of our polar twins not their separation. Again. Stop ... Pip. Separate post!) I just think this is so neat!!! Because, y'all, like I said, the number of literary influences on this show are NUMEROUS. I just can't unsee it or unhear it. (But, I'm a person with mild audio-visual synesthesia so that's all the same to me.) Anyway, music. Literature. Nerdy stuff. Was this intentional? Am I crazy? I dunno. But, all I know is these songs sound similar, and I love them both SO MUCH! UGH! MUSIC! AHHHH!!!!!!!!

(Also, while this song is fine, PSA from a certified fandom adult to anyone younger than, like 15/16, DO NOT go seeking out the whole musical or you might end up with more than you bargained for. It's pretty gory and intense. One and a half steps down in vibe, I'd say, from Sweeney Todd and maybe about a step up in intensity from the Hunchback of Notre Dame revival with Patrick Paige and Michael Arden- so the one where they brought in some of the darker themes from the novel. [Thank you Alan Menken for doing that for us, and for casting Patrick Paige as Frollo. None, of which we deserved.] I found Jekyll and Hyde The Musical at 13 because I was a gremlin who read the novella The Mysterious Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson well younger than I should have because, if it was a classic, I was allowed to read anything. Okay, bye!)

[vandalyssm]

Theory: Merlin's Recent Publicity and its Correlation to a Possible Sequel/Revival/Reboot (+Eoin Macken's Pseudo Merlin Project)

'Ello. Fancied sharing my thoughts on recent developments regarding BBC's Merlin.

Fair, firm warning: I'm only sharing speculations and my personal opinions on the matter, and I do not advertise them as fact whatsoever. Consider them musings (or delusions, your choice). You can use this to further fuel your hope of the slim chance that this beloved show will see the light of day once again or maybe make theories of your own. Dispelling it is also an option, as I cannot assure my arguments would be free from flaws.

Right. Without further ado...

Revival of the Official Merlin Twitter Account

Let's put this into scenario.

Imagine a dated piece of media, previously well-known worldwide and had its own golden age for a time. This media launched the last of its contents over a decade ago, yet it gained a loyal, devoted following that persisted to grow and continued the legacy of the franchise over the years. Though there were highs and lows, the community remained alive for an impressive amount of time, steadily producing art, fiction, and creations dedicated to the media, despite not having anything new to work with. This devotion is acknowledged by those from an outsider's perspective, including the creators of this media (cast, staff, and distributors alike).

To put into context, the community was left unsatisfied with how the media ended, and many wished for the media to return. Articles were written, petitions were signed, comments left on the cast' social media accounts, and even questions were asked directly to them. Although different in wording, the inquired notion remained the same: Will there be a possibility of a sequel/revival/return/reboot? The answers range from a neutral, vague reply to a more resounding no.

This cycle persisted, but the people were immovable; they were visionaries and their dream lived on in their hearts. And this did not go unnoticed.

So it continued... until one of the media's social accounts made a sudden return. Out of nowhere, without a warning. They're back for good, the account announced. It sent the community into a frenzy. But if you took a step back from the excitement, you'd notice that it's strange. Why would a media ended over a decade ago suddenly be promoted again?

Now, I'm going to explore two possibilities; pragmatic and idealistic. The previous hypothetical scenario lays the general principal of Merlin's relevance (duh).

I'll make the pragmatic perspective brief. FremantleMedia saw the opportunity to make some bucks from Merlin because of the loyal fanbase, using a no-cost yet effective method to keep us tuned in; hoping. OMG, what does this mean? Does this mean they're going make a sequel?! Holy shit, they're teasing us, aren't they? I can't believe this is happening, it's a dream come true! And so on and so forth. Evidently, it works and numbers are growing. The official Merlin twitter account is racking up more followers and likes with each post. In this possibility, there's no such thing as a sequel/whatever it is the fanbase hopes for; just a reanimated corpse doing the same silly tap dance while we holler at it, dumbly hoping that they bust out new moves.

Now, the fun part. The idealistic version!

I'm going to use a real life example for my theory: the upcoming release of Dragon's Dogma 2. With a quick Google search, you can learn that Dragon's Dogma 2 is the highly awaited sequel for its well-liked predecessor, Dragon's Dogma.

For some time, Dragon's Dogma was on sale on Steam (with a decent cut too). This was done to gain the attention of...

1. those who haven't previously dived into the franchise. It's to make them think 'Wow! This game's so good. Oh, there's a sequel of it that's gonna be released soon? With even better graphics and gameplay? Sign me the fuck up!'. You liked Blueberry Cheesecake, so it'd make sense that you'd be more open to buying Double Blueberry Cheesecake, Premium Ingredients Addition, with 2 additional paid toppings.

2. Veterans and nostalgic fans. 'They're promoting the game I liked years ago... Oh, well, it won't hurt to play it again, just for the nostalgia. It never really left my mind anyway."

In other words: hype! hype! hype!

If using this principle, then the possibility of a sequel/revival/reboot/new content exists. It's either being processed (wishful thinking, not as likely) or being considered (more likely). If it's the latter, then they're testing the waters to see how much people still care/how much money they'll make. The more attention and hype it gets, the higher the likelihood.

Simplified:

P (old media pushed for publicity) -> Q (hype built)

Q (hype built) -> R (new content)

Eoin Macken's Pseudo Merlin Project

If I recall correctly, Eoin Macken first announced a pseudo Merlin project in late 2020. It's first teased to be released in 2021, but nothing came out of it so far (at the time of writing this) except if you count the small handful of times Macken hinted it over the ongoing four year period.

Now, I understand his position. First and foremost, he needs the legal rights to actually produce anything and it's no easy feat when you're dealing with a massive company. Then there's the issue of costumes, props, sets, and equipment. A lot to consider. To put it simply, he must offer the company something worth more than the show itself or contribute in their favor in some way. Macken seems like a charming and capable guy, so he can make it work. Probably.

I lean towards the spin-off theory because a cast reunion would not take four years. As far as I know, Macken is close with the knights and they could get together at any convenient time. If the project was a zoom call or a recorded get-together, it would've been released already. To compare, by using the average of 385,000 babies born each day during the last three years, we have 421,575,000 newborns before the Pseudo Merlin Project.

I want to tie this in with the previous theory, but eh. It can connect, but not really. I don't have any further explanation or evidence since Macken hasn't given any news.

---

Anyways. That's enough of this. I hope it made sense, at least it did to me. I'm entering my third year in the fandom, so I'm relatively new and still hopeful. (Though I try hard to keep my feet on the ground while I stare up at the clouds.)

To end this post, I'd like to say: keep hoping. Hope is such a stupidly beautiful thing, and it should be nurtured. Turn that feeling into art, into efforts.

There are franchises revived 2-3 decades after, and Merlin is no exception.

[strawberryblondebutch]

Clicked through Waiting for Your Arrival on a whim and my dumb emo teen past self re-emerged to love it. Got any other playlists that you're cool sharing, while I'm in a listen-to-new-music mood?

My playlists are an absolute mess right now because I'm reorganizing my Spotify catalog, but here are a few under-the-radar bands I'm constantly recommending to people:

based on everything I know about you, I gotta plug Weakened Friends. I saw them open for Slothrust last year and instantly became obsessed. Bonus, the guitarist and bassist are married to each other!

I feel like, by and large, "skate punk" kinda died out maybe 10-15 years ago and got swallowed whole by pop punk, which is why Pkew Pkew Pkew scratches that "I'm skipping school to fuck around with my friends" itch. This song is also far too relatable.

You will notice that a lot of my recommendations are either Philly or Chicago-area bands, because, well. Those are the scenes I know the best. Devon Kay is from Chicago and falls into that Streetlight category of "not ska per se but man can that horn section rip."

I've seen Liquid Mike three times now, all somewhat by accident - they were at Riot Fest, then they opened for The Wonder Years and the Menzingers, and then they opened for Drug Church. They get better every single time.

Another Chicago skate punk darling who hasn't really broken out past this specific scene. I really admire that Deanna is a woman who feels comfortable admitting to being a loser. That sounds sarcastic, but it's nice to see a woman so unabashedly unpolished.

I'm going to level with you. Les Savy Fav is an acquired taste. They're ostensibly "art punk," which is code for "hard to pin down but they do some freak shit." The frontman is also known for his antics - last year he ran all the way to the back bar and handed me the mic to sing part of "World Got Great" while he drank the beer out of my hands.

Not quite your favorite band's favorite band, but they've toured with The Menzingers, Spanish Love Songs, Lucero, and they're currently on tour with Heart Attack Man, so they definitely feel like they're in that inner circle.

Absolutely begging the boys to tour again. It's been seven years. I need more. I know Keith personally so this is an unabashed plug on their behalf. If you like the music but wish it were weirder, then I can direct you to The Sound of Animals Fighting.

I'm two degrees of separation from Coleman Rigg but somehow never got into Ridge Runners until my friends were opening for him at this album's release show. You want obscure recommendations? This is the one.

Honorable mentions that I talk about all the time and didn't feel the need to repeat here:

49 Burning Condors

All Get Out

Bike Routes

Body Thief

Heart Attack Man

Have Mercy

Mercy Union (yes, a different band than Have Mercy, which my wife cannot believe)

Militarie Gun

The Early November (who seemed to take off exclusively in the greater Philadelphia area - everyone here knows and loves them and then I leave my bubble and get weird looks)

And, most importantly:

Have you listened to Gouge Away? Will you listen to Gouge Away? When will you listen to Gouge Away?

[cupofconfetti]

Excerpt from Persian Grove || January 24th, 2025

Though he may of meant it facetiously, my life does seem to be running through a cycle of “how long has it been since I talked to [libra sun].” It hasn’t been long in the slightest — when taking into account the grand scheme of things — but at the same time, it feels like an eternity since I’ve been able to confide in the solace of his love. He said to me, “I really do pray for your happiness, I’m an atheist but SOMEBODY is listening.” I myself could be best described as an atheist, possibly agnostic, but there is a special type of religion I experience whenever I think of him — my heart feels as though it’s been flushed with a deep, holy red, felt only by the most fortunate of lovers once every few lifetimes. My heartstrings feel as though one pluck of their delicate chords would exasperate their continuity. To be crucified for the crime of my pious devotion to him would bring me no shame, for I would boast of my love from atop the highest pier or platform until my last shuddering breath. I disclose my truth: I reassure the universe of our love nightly by believing the assertion, “I love him, and he loves me, and he is closer to me with every passing second.” That is my prayer. I am ashamed to admit that my invocation is selfish. I, too, wish nothing for him but happiness — if I could make only one declaration it would be for him to receive all the wonders life has to offer and to be awarded with the greatest love known to man. But it would be dishonest of me to say that I didn’t wish I was the one bringing him happiness. I hope someone is listening to me, and that they believe it fair and just that my wish be granted. The youthful love that we share cannot be recreated elsewhere; the prose I write dedicated to him I cannot write for anyone else. My love for him remains one of the strongest, most passionate emotions I have ever experienced, and despite my efforts across the years I have failed to revive that sensation elsewhere. I, too, feel a juvenile level of excitement when his name scores itself within the pixels of my phone, like the very first night we conversed at ages nineteen and twenty. I love him with the first breath I take of morning air and I love him with the last breath I take of cold night. And I miss him so terribly — I must have disappointed some karmic entity and been bestowed with some terrible curse to be forced apart from him and provided such irregular conversation. It is torturous work, what the universe has asked of me. Let him come to me sooner, universe, God, somebody listening. Let him understand every morsel of my being, every inch of my soul and body, until this soul he examines is as familiar as his own. Let him dedicate his life to the study of my heart and my mind. Let us be so consumed in our love that the world around us quivers with inspiration and affection. “I worship the ground beneath your feet and have deified you to such an extent in my head that I actually think you’re infallible.” My love, we are infallible. Our love has been deified, to the extent where I don’t need to look elsewhere to comprehend the feeling of enrapturement etched throughout the lines of history. I am completely and intensely captivated, delighted, and entranced. He speaks my name into existence in rooms I will never walk in.  He claims that I am “ever present.” He made me become conscious of the fact, at nearly noon, that we have been at this for “the past half decade” — and I vow to the eons to love him the same way I have for half decades more. “I love you from afar with just as much strength and resolve as I would were we together. In the end it’s always you.” Oh how that bittersweetly breaks my heart. What love have we missed out on owing to the lack of one another? The pulsating cathartic release that I experienced on January 18th and 19th was one that I did not anticipate and one that I was prophetically yearning for. I transcendentally yearn now for sweet July, when we are next approximated to speak. Oh how I dream of the sweet blue-purple-pink skies that signal my time is near!