#Moss Book II

[demifiendrsa]

The Game Awards 2022 winners:

Game of the Year - Elden Ring Best Game Direction - Elden Ring Best Ongoing Game - Final Fantasy XIV Best Action/Adventure Game - God of War Ragnarök Best Independent Game - Stray Players’ Voice - Genshin Impact Best Role Playing Game - Elden Ring Innovation in Accessibility - God of War Ragnarök Best Score & Music - God of War Ragnarök Best Action Game - Bayonetta 3 Most Anticipated Game - The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom Content Creator- Ludwig Best Audio Design - God of War Ragnarök Best Multiplayer Game - Splatoon 3 Best Sports/Racing Game - Gran Turismo 7 Games for Impact - As Dusk Falls Best Community Support - Final Fantasy XIV Best Sim/Strategy Game - Mario + Rabbids Sparks of Hope Best VR/AR - Moss: Book II – Polyarc Best Art Direction - Elden Ring Best Narrative - God of War Ragnarök Best Adaptation - Arcane: League of Legends Best Debut Indie Game - Stray Best Performance - Christopher Judge, God of War Ragnarök Best Family Game - Kirby and the Forgotten Land Best Esports Event - 2022 League of Legends World Championship Best Esports Coach - bzkA Best Esports Team - LOUD Best Esports Athlete - yay Best Esports Game - Valorant Best Fighting Game - MultiVersus Best Mobile Game - Marvel Snap

[phykoha]

Moss and Moss: Book II (the latter of which I haven't finished yet) are definitely going up there in the list of my favorite games. The vibes and aesthetic are absolutely perfect, and the music is wonderful. It reminds me a little of Journey and Sky: COTL, which are also great games and some of my favorites.

And Quill as a character has so much personality. Her animations and vocalizations are so cute, and I love that she uses sign language occasionally.

If any of you have, or plan on getting, a Meta Quest 2, I definitely recommend both games. They're possibly the best VR games I've ever played.

[talonsandtails]

I’m proud of this one, though I know it’ll get a maximum of four notes because apparently people enjoy “loaf” more than the art I actually put effort into. It’s kind of discouraging

Anyways, this is from the vr game Moss, more accurately Moss: book II. It’s a really good game

[virtualrealitynewstoday]

「Glassbreakers: Champions of Moss 」即將進入公開測試，全新冠軍角色現身！

「Glassbreakers: Champions of Moss 」即將進入公開測試，全新冠軍角色現身！ "Glassbreakers: Champions of Moss" is about to enter open beta, and a new champion character will appear!

Polyarc宣佈，《莫斯之冠：玻璃破壞者》（Glassbreakers: Champions of Moss），這款從廣受歡迎的VR遊戲《Moss》系列中衍生的戰略遊戲，即將於下週進入公開測試。公開測試將於9月26日開始，在Meta Quest 2和SteamVR平台上同步進行。 這款一對一即時戰鬥遊戲由TGA 2022 最佳VR/AR 遊戲獎得主《Moss: Book…

[hyuny-bunny]

｡⋆˚ hot springs ｡⋆˚｡⋆. HH (ft LK)

part II (under the stars one shot series)

pairing: hyunjin x fem!reader

synopsis: after last night, hyunjin decides to surprise with a hot spring! some one on one time with your completely "platonic" not-at-all-horn-dog-friend would be a great way to relax

MNDI 18+: boob play, outdoor sex, unprotected p in v, kissing, groping, cream pie, fem!reader

part i

the morning haze was bad. at first, you thought it surely must've been a dream until you could still feel the remnants of the night before stick to your underwear as you began to shift in your spot. both minho and hyunjin must've already gotten up for the day seeing as you were the only one still in the bed. you reach for your phone on the night stand only to find that it's only 8am. where could they have gone so early? your question was answered when hyunjin walked into the tent with a bowl of fruit and hot tea in hand. while he wasn't a morning person seeing him up this early and much less the smiley, was an unexpected sight.

"morning, sleeping beauty."

"morning, wasn't that your nickname?"

"i think it's much more fitting for you." he hands the bowl of fruit and hot tea to you "here, it's all we have for breakfast right now. apparently we're missing an entire cooler of food so minho and chan left to grab more before we all start to eat each other for survival."

you laugh both at thought and possible reality of it. it's still quite cold out but nearly as bad as last night.

"sleep well?" the question has you choking on the tea, both from the sip and inhalation of air. hyunjin only laughs before hand you a napkin to pat yourself dry.

"i slept just fine, you two are like heaters anyways so staying warm through the night was no problem..." you trail off not wanting to make things awkward at the mention of last night.

"oh, is that all we are now? body's to keep you warm? glad you slept well considering you knocked out like a light after you came all over my hand."

"hyunjin!" you swat a pillow at him, covering your face to hide the rising blush in your face. he laughs at your reaction before pulling your hands into his.

"relax, it's friends helping friends right? i have a surprise for you so get changed." he looks at you with sweet eyes, as much as he loved teasing, he really did care for you deep down. it was just his flirty way to make you as flustered as he could, it did wonders for his ego when it was you. "bring something you can get wet in."

you move to swat at him again.

"I didn't mean it that way ! stop being so horny for a sec, i just meant a swimsuit if you brought one," he says once more while bringing his arms up in defense.

-

it would only be the two of you as the other four opted in to stay watching the camp site for when the chan & minho returned from the store. it was about a 30 minute or so hike along the mountain, add another 15 minutes as hyunjin deemed it necessary to bring his disposable camera, capturing every sight that he wanted to have forever including a few candids of you. the hike was worth the reward once you stopped upon the surprise, a hot spring.

the trees hung low covering the hidden hot spring. it was almost like a cavern carved on the side of the mountain, another steam of water flowing by. the orange and green leaves covered the ground where you stood, moss covering the walls against the rocks that walled in the hot spring. it was truly something straight out of a fantasy book.

"how did you even find this ?!" you asked as you both began settling your things down.

"i do my research. you think i'd agree to camping without finding something mildly relaxing to do?"

"touché." you pulled your clothes in to a neat pile, sweater stacked on top of sweats and thick fluffy socks to put on top. fortunately, you did bring a swimsuit. it was a basic one piece with a v cut and spaghetti straps. it made your boobs look great and complimented your figure. you turn around just in time to see hyunjin pulling his shirt over his head already in swim trucks, it was sickening how hot he looked pulling that shirt off. he smirks at you with a raised eye brow causing you to turn away cleaning your throat.

what was there to be so shy about? you had already jerked him off now and he had returned the favor when he finger banged you. stepping into the hot spring, the water felt amazing in comparison to the cold you had just been standing in seconds before. plunging in to water neck deep you groan out a sigh, never been more thankful to have hot water.

hyunjin stepped in watching all the little movements, the way you threw your head back with eyes closed giving him the perfect view of your chest coming out from the water just enough to see the way your tits we're firmly pressed against the wet suit now. infatuated with the sight, taking mental notes of the way your breast curved across the tops, your nipples ever so slightly poking through the material. the water droplets forming across your skins as his mind danced with the idea of licking it up. wanting to pull down your top enough to relive moments of last night, feeling your tits in his hands and being able to see them in all their glory this time around.

you look at him once more, enjoying being admired under his gaze. you float, drifting around the small body of water taking in the sounds & sights of nature. eventually settling against a ledge of rocks in the water as a makeshift seat, hyunjin settling beside you breathing in the sight of both the hot spring and you. his shoulders brushes against you pulling you out of your daze to find he's already looking down at you.

"want to talk about last night? i certainly do." your eyes almost bulge out when he brings it up.

"what do you want to talk about?..." you look forward fixating on the stream of water flowing ahead.

"did you enjoy it?"

your silent, wanting to very loudly scream out how much you enjoyed it all.

"i did... did you?"

it's his turn to be quite for a moment.

"i did... i wouldn't have minded if it turned into something a little more heated... would you?"

your head whips to meet his eyes, he's staring back into your eyes, eyes darting back and forth your eyes. he searches your face for any discomfort, a sign that would make him stop instead his eyes look down at your lips to find you ever so discreetly licking your bottom lip.

"i wouldn't have minded... i wouldn't mind even now."

his hair is wet, a strand falling forward dripping ever so slightly. his cheeks are tinged with the slightest pink which could either be from this conversation or the heat of this pool. it was the former. you think about leaning forward to kiss him, his lips plumps and pouty. you remember the way they felt against your own, wondering if you'd ever get another chance to feel them the same way you had done so the night before.

that question is answered shortly when hyunjin brings his hand to back of your head to pull you in for heated kiss. just as you remembered, his lips are plush and soft against yours, a complete contrast to way he kisses. your both sliding off the ledge seat, on arm wrapping firmly around your waist as you bring your legs to wrap around his waist. you slide your own hands to his shoulders, raking nails against the skin up into his causing him to groan against the kiss. his hands slide to you waist giving your waist a squeeze before their sliding down your back once more to your ass. he takes another squeeze as he bites down on your lip as you gasp at his sudden braveness. you pull his hair a bit as he finally pulls back from the kiss, his eyes are twinkling with lust when he begins kissing down your jawline to your neck. he grinds into you as he starts kissing and sucking a hickey into spot between your neck and collarbone. he pushes you two up against a wall of the hot spring, hands wandering their way to your chest to grab your tits in his hands. overwhelmed by the feeling of his lips sucking a hickey into your neck, you feel even hotter then before.

you're on cloud 9, hands tugging at his hair as he paws at your chest, feeling the his hard cock pressing snugly against where you need him most. he pushes the straps of your swim suit down and begins kissing down your chest to your tits, massaging one his hand as he firmly grasps the other pinching the nipple gently. he leaves another hickey at the top of your tit. after a few pinches, moans spilling from you, his lips and tongues attach to your nipple. throwing your head back moaning out his name as the nipple hardens in his mouth, he returns the treatment to the other breast. he loves feeling the way you squirm under his touch and the way your nails rake and pull at his hair. hyunjin swiftly pulls you out the hot spring, laying out his towel on the ground like a gentleman to take you right here on the floor of the woods next to this hot spring. he pulls you down to lay on the towel, any thought of someone walking up on you has been suppressed by the neediness that swarms your brain.

"let's find out how this pretty pussy feels wrapped around my cock, baby."

your pulling off the wet bathing suit and he stands to rid himself of the swim trucks. it's easy to see now in daylight how big he is. he sinks back down to his knees tossing your swim suits away, hands running up and down your body while he mutters sweet words of praise against your lips. he would worship at your feet if you gave him the chance. he rubs at your clit to prep you for him, sliding his fingers in between your folds. he kisses you as he slides his middle finger inside, thrusting them in and out. your already wet from his earlier foreplay to your breasts, he was just being thorough now wanting to slide in you with as much ease. he pulls back to watch the way you face contort as he curls his fingers against your sweet spot and digging the heel of his hand perfect against your clit. your hands gripping his shoulders and biceps as he starts to build your orgasm. he pulls out after a few moments, his goal was to make you cum on his cock this time. you watch as he gives himself a few strokes, playing with your lips to align himself against you.

"let me know if you want to stop, i need to hear you say you want this." he looks at you for reassurance as nudges the tip of his cock against you entrance.

"hyunjin, i want this. i need you, please." he grabs your hand, interlocking your fingers as he slides in. you gasp at the feeling, the stretch of his tip already feeling snug against.

he holds your hand as he slowly slides himself all the way in to the hilt, you let out a shakey whine. he's so big, stretching you in a way you haven't felt before. it doesn't help that all you want is to feel him repeatedly slam into you until you can't walk. he kisses your forehead still inside you as you adjust to his size, he slowly pulls out halfway before thrusting back in.

"please, hyun." you cry out while looking up with pleading eyes.

it's all the encouragement he needs to pick up his pace. he brings a hand to your knee to lift it giving him a better angle to go in deeper. the sounds of running water masked your moans and the slapping of skin. he hovers his face above yours, lips just ghosting of yours, your nails leaving long scratches down his back. he's focused on the way your moans get higher in pitch when he lifts your leg, he lifts both legs into a matting pressing giving him the perfect angle to hear you yelp out his name. he's pulled back down to earth when he feels you grabbing his face to kiss him as he picks up speed once more. he's close to cumming but doesn't want to cut things too early with the way it all feels, the wet squelching noises, the way your walls clench and suck him in deeper every thrust.

most importantly, he wants the image of you fucked out on his cock engrained in his mind. he can't seem to focus of anything but the way you kiss him, tongues brushing against each other, the way you seem to suck all the oxygen out of him.

you're head spinning with being consumed by every part of hyunjin clouds your thoughts. the fact that you're out in the middle of the woods fucking next to a hot spring that anyone could walk up on at any moment, seems like a very distant concern. you reach between your body's to rub your clit only to be stopped by hyunjin pulling your hand above your head, his other reaches down. his thumb circling your clit, leaving you completely under his command.

"cum for me baby, cum all over this cock. i'm all yours, use me."

his soft touches to your clit in contrast to his thrust have your orgasm washing over you just moments later. your grip on his bicep, holding for dear life as you shake coming down from your high. he pulls out of you still hard, he flips you onto your stomach. you only have a moment before he's lifting your hips again, sliding his cock between your folds as your grip him tight. hyunjin drapes his entire body around, his finding its way in between your shoulder and neck. he's grunting right into your ear, panting with every thrust. the new position has another orgasm building up much stronger and quicker then the last. the combined weight of hyunjin on top of you like this and the way his body engulfs you has you clenching down on him once more. his thrusts becoming slower, he lets a whimper slip out with your name. you feel the hot spurts of cum shooting inside you, it's enough to push your own orgasm to the brink. you milk his cock for the last drops of cum, clenching as you feel it drip out of you with him still inside. he's out of breath, kissing your cheeks, jaw and shoulder blade as he slowly pulls out of you.

his jaw drops as he watches his cum drip down your pussy, wanting to push the remnants back inside you. instead, he chooses to land a smack to your ass that has you turning around in disbelief as he laughs at your reaction.

"can you stand?"

you scoff at the question, shifting to your knees to stand only to met with bambi legs. he quickly stands up to catch you, holding you against him as you both stand nude in the forrest. he walks you back into the hot spring.

"let's wait till your muscles relax again before we try to walk back."

"you're such a gentleman. taking me to the forrest to fuck me until i can't walk so we have no choice but to bathe together in a hot spring. and they say romance is dead."

he rolls his eyes holding you by the waist, your chest pressed against.

"watch your mouth before i decide round 2 is in the hot spring and you still won't be able to walk."

-

after another hour in the hot spring that led to hyunjin playing with your clit for a third orgasm, he triumphantly got you born dressed for a brisk walk back to the campsite.

as you both came into sight of the tents. you saw the van back in its spot meaning chan and minho were back already. as you approached, everyone seemed to be huddled around the bonfire pit again drinking. chan was the first to ask where you two had been.

"a hot spring-"

"YA WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL US?!" changbin yells standing up from his seat.

"i wasn't about to take you ALL. it was too small for everyone." hyunjin says as seungmin and jeongin are about to start arguing about wanting to have gone.

"so it was just big enough for two? hm? or did you just want y/n all to yourself?" han teases laughing. they all seem to laugh except hyun, you, and minho. the blush rising once again doesn't help.

hyunjin is about to throw the wet towel until your pulling it back down afraid of exposing han to any of the bodily fluids that haven't seeped into the towel yet.

minho can see the dark hickey forming on your neck. it's not one you had earlier from the night before. you sit down by felix to warm up with the fire as hyunjin heads to the off to change clothes. minho follows suit to the tent, his suspicions are confirmed once he sees the long nail marks adorning hyunjin's back when he pulls his shirt off.

hyunjin is pulling a new shirt on along with a hoodie, he turns to see minho glaring. he only offers him a smug smirk and a pat on the shoulder leaning to whisper in his ear.

"she enjoyed last night a lot more then you think. i don't think she'd mind if you offered her another taste."

-----

a/n: part 3 on sunday/monday !

minho will get his chance... part 4? with a hyunho threesome?

tags:

@tsunderelino @elizalabs3 @meilix @stelle-aka-simp @lunearta @jisuperboard @glitter-z @heeyboooo @yaorzu-blog @captainchrisstan @hyunjinhoexxx @guiltycoco @skzhyunnie @listeningtomusiclol

[d1onysusw1n3]

★haunted - Clarisse La Rue★

┌────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────┐

                 𝐇𝐚𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 - 𝐁𝐞𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐜é

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ 1:35 ───ㅇ───── 3:47

"𝐼 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝒾𝒻 𝐼ℳ 𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊, 𝐼'𝓂 𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊."

     "𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝓂𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓑𝓮 𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑜 𝓂𝑒, 𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑜 𝓂𝑒."

        └────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────┘

Tw: some kissing nd fluff.

His curly brown hair, his smile, his everything. Even his imperfections, are absolutely beautiful.

"You're staring again Halo." the redette announces. I turn my attention away from him peering over at my best friend, Rosalyn quartz. Daughter of Aphrodite. People drool over her Porcelain skin and green eyes, her silky coils of red hair, she's the definition of beauty.

"Is it obvious." I frown shrinking into the mossy log a couple feet across from him.

She chuckles shaking her head. Her curls elegantly blow in the wind, with long dark eyelashes that shadow her sharp cheek bones, she looks as if she was sculpted by Zeus herself.

"You know you could talk to him instead of staring like a deer in headlights" she says in a sing song voice.

I looked down to my calloused hands, my chipped nails, the scars on my knuckles due to many fights i somehow get myself into. Especially with Clarisse. She has a bone to pick with me, ever since I stepped foot into camp half blood.

I don't know how anyone would be able to love my scars, my tan lines, my unhinged curly hair.

"He doesn't even know my name rose, I'm not going to go up to him." I look down picking at my nails.

"Well someone is staring at you." She chuckles.

I look up and lock eyes with clarisse. I never noticed the light flakes of brown in her dark eyes that some how, glow.

I roll my eyes and turn my body back over to rose.

"Yeah well she can shove that attitude up her grade A snotty royal a-" the horn signaling curfew blew, cutting me off.

I slump not realizing I was tired till now. I snap my sketch book shut and place it to the side to stretch my legs.

"I don't know if she hates you or is obsessed with you, she argues and teases but looks at you across the room desperately." Rose quirks her eyebrow.

"Tt she can keep all her bull shit to herself" i spit out scowling.

I walk rose to her cabin and bid a goodnight turning on my heel to walk back to cabin 7. I look in my bag and notice my book isn't anywhere in sight. I groan lumbering over to the campfire where I was sitting and see it missing.

My heart drops down to the floor. I have so many sketches in there, ones of rose and camp half blood, most importantly, various sketches of him.

I splat onto my bottom bunk, various snores of all the children around me. I kick off my shoes falling into a dreamless sleep.

｡･:*:･ﾟ���,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

I wake with the warm sun gleaming on my tan skin and scattered freckles. I sigh as the previous night floods through my mind. My fucking notebook is floating around here some where.

Hopping up, I tug on my cropped camp half blood shirt that floats above my navel over my white also cropped long sleeve and on my low waisted light washed ripped jeans with hightop black converse.

I bend down tying my laces looking at the messy doodles on my shoes that are lightly washed off. I take off the the fire place picking up sticks and moss trying to desperately find my notebook.

"Hey."

I pause slowly turning around, to see the one and only, luke castellan. Holding my fucking note book. Well if hades ever wanted to magically claim my soul to the underworld he could, because at the moment I felt like dropping dead..and that is an understatement.

"Uh hi." I look down in his hand. He follows my gaze down to his hand.

"Oh um I found this by the seat you were sitting in by the campfire last night I wanted to give it back to you." he holds it out for me to grab. I quickly grab it from his hand tucking it to my chest in embarrassment.

"Your sketches are beautiful, especially the ones of me." He teases looking down at me with a smug little smirk.

"I-" I stand there with my mouth wide open.

He chuckles at my expression.

"I'm messing with you."

"Yeah I know sorry, you just have beautiful features, they're nice to draw" I say in a daze, not really understanding the depth of words I chose.

He blushes a little with a smug smile.

"I know" he says lazily bumping into my shoulder on purpose as we walk to my cabin. I roll my eyes at his stupid (very hot) cocky attitude.

"Hey I was wondering if I could ask you something." He looks down blushing slightly.

My heart quickens with a hitched breath.

"Does Rosalyn have a boyfriend?"

And crushed. My everything is crushed.

"No. She doesn't." I tightly smile at him, almost mechanically. Fake.

"Thanks." He smiles and walks off to attach his hip to your beautiful best.friend.

You ended up avoiding them both all day not ready to face the reality of the situation.

When night falls you decide to skip the campfire and sit by the lake, sobbing your damn eyes out over a stupid boy.

"Well what do we have here- are you crying?" Clarisse's cocky facade dropps immediately, almost looking worried.

I quickly wiped my tears and sniffle.

"Please I'm not in the mood."

She slowly takes a seat next to me. I look over to see her inspecting my face. A tear falls down my face, closing my eyes I look down ashamed to be found this way. But Clarisse doesn't care, she tenderly wipes my tear, her fingertips callused due to holding a weapon for a long time Daron years if combat.

"I would treat you better then he ever could." She whispers, so low I wouldn't have heard it if it wasn't for how close our bodies were to each other, knee to knee, shoulder to shoulder.

"What?" I quietly say, stunned at her words.

"I see you staring at him all the time as he follows that damn red head as if she was his mother. It makes me so angry, those tears should be from pleasure not pain pretty girl." She smirks down at me.

"I thought you hated me" I frown.

"I don't hate you, I hate the thought of you with him." Clarisse spits out with malice coating her tongue.

She leans her forehead on mine, and I realize the same thing I did yesterday. The small gold flakes floating around in her dark eyes.

"Your eyes are beautiful" I mumble breath short at the sight bestowed before me.

I can lightly see blush dusted on her sharp cheek bones due to the moons glare off the lake.

She leans over closing in space our lips ghostly resting onto each other. She leans deeper into me, and I don't stop her. I lean in as well, kissing her with such force it knocks the wind out of my lungs.

Yet, This kiss wasn't fast and rushed, it wasn't spontaneous with a fireworks and a buzz in the back of my head.

It was slow and tender, her soft lips molding to mine as if they were made to kiss me, my stomach flips and I feel at peace with her, at peace with us.

As the kiss gets deeper a little more needy, she glides her tongue against my teeth, a gentle sigh escapes her mouth, I open letting her in. He dips her tongue in my mouth as we steadily find a slow and gentle pace.

She backs up for air slow and heavy breaths.

"You don't know how long I wanted to do that, how I longed for you to stare at me instead of him." She tucks my hair behind my ear.

"That can change. Make me yours clare" I whisper.

She smiles smashing her lips against mine again, this time the kiss was different it was needy and sticky. She pulls me on her lap with a vice grip on my hips I felt as if I would bruise in the morning. I wrap my arms around her neck finessing my hands through her hair and I slightly tug at a strand of her curls, making her groan at the action.

I smile against her lips.

"Halo, please be mine. all mine." She whispers in my ear, her cool minty breath fanning over my collarbone and jawline.

"Always and forever Clare, I'm all yours." And it's as Apollo gifted her smile with the power of a thousand suns, cause gods her smile was bright and as beautiful as the star itself.

"Let's go back to the campfire, don't miss out because of him." She gets up holding out a hand to me. I take her hand locking our fingers letting her pull me up.

She leads me through tall trees up to a gleaming light. We take a seat by the campfire. I lock my arm around hers leaning into her body warmth on this humid but breezy night.

Across from me I see Luke and Rosalyn laughing and holding hands strolling over to us. I expected a punch in the gut, but nothing came, instead my mind still raced at the thought of Clarisse's lips on mine.

I look up and focus on her features her blazing eyes and beautiful full lips, everything about her was perfect.

"What happened when I was gone, because you two seemed to cuddled up to be enemies." Rosalyn points at our locked arms and intertwined hands.

"A lot" I giggle.

Luke and herself settle down next to us, giggling away as he places ginger kisses on her collarbones. And I could care less.

Clarisse laughs and jokes about something stupid with her siblings and I feel as if her smile is hypnotic, a spell that puts me in a deep trance.

"Whatcha staring at pretty girl?" She says and that catches roses attention turning away from Luke to see my reply.

"You, always you." I smile up at her.

She leans down slowly placing a kiss on my lips as if they were as fragile as china glass.

"Woah so i definitely missed a whole entire chapter because what the gods just happened." Rosalyn said with her eyebrows raised.

I laugh and Clarisse chuckles.

"I asked halo to be my girlfriend and she said yes." Clarisse confirmed, with possessive arms snaking around my waist, holding me flush against her body.

"I can see that." Rose said.

"I also wanted to say that I feel bad for making a move on.. I know how you felt and I was selfish." Rose looks down at her nails.

"Don't even sweat it, that was the best decision you have ever made." I say looking over to Clarisse, who was in her own world with her siblings.

"Yeah I bet" she smirks turning back around.

Who knew the person I resented would eventually be the woman to sweep me off my feet.

It’s six am and I’m tired goodnight.☠️

[dandelion-network]

"Because dead things felt only love for the universe." A dreamy, doom fanmix dedicated to Jeff VanderMeer's Dead Astronauts.

i. ivixor b / phase inducer - electric wizard // ii. white stork - bossk // iii. ekpyrotic - the otolith // iv. the screen - yob // v. the shooting star - gojira // vi. souvlaki space station - slowdive // vii. moon in your mouth - goldfrapp // viii. ptolemaea - ethel cain // ix. evaporate - a.a. williams // x. feather - windhand // xi. fight like gods - chelsea wolfe // xii. marked for death - emma ruth rundle // xiii. drag me into the woods - holy fawn // xiv. the things they believe - loathe, john waug // xv. and, we disappear - alaskan tapes.

i. ivixor b / phase inducer - electric wizard : I chose an instrumental as the first song in this mix and this specific song because it emulates the feeling of traversing a desert wasteland, similar to the astronauts' odyssey heading toward the Company during the first part of the book. There are radio signals and warbbing-like sounds along with unintelligible speech in the background that remind me of the original Star Trek where there'd be random 'scifi' noises.

ii. white stork - bossk : Another instrumental track. While Ivixor B / Phase Inducer felt more passive to me, almost a song that would assist setting the vibe of the story's landscape, White Stork for me is the song of desert's active mystery and signs of hostility. It hasn't asserted itself yet, but there's a kind of danger lurking as the story progresses.

iii. ekpyrotic - the otolith : I consider this song to be the theme of all the living beings in either opposition to the Company or those separate from the dichotomy of friend and foe. The foxes are the first that came to mind when listening to this song. The subject of the song is the interconnectedness of all living beings and rebirth, along with the inherent power of being one's true self that cannot be contained. [Lyrics]

iv. the screen - yob : This song represents confrontation, violence between the astronauts and their other selves, the dark bird, the behemoth. An ancient battle forever taking place. It also makes me think of the horror Charlie X experienced during his time with the Company. It's his pain, the pain he inflicts, his need to please what he and the Company demand of him. There's almost this ancient rite he performs when constructing his creations. And of course, the violence done upon the foxes by man. [Lyrics]

v. the shooting star - gojira : This is thee theme for the astronauts - Grayson, Moss, and Chen -, the song that represents not only their mission or their struggles as they fight to succeed, but also their connection with one another. I think of the last four bars of the song: everlasting-love is ever-growing / hang on to what you have and let it grow / everlasting-love is ever-dying / it's in the past, you have to let it go. [Lyrics]

vi. souvlaki space station - slowdive : This song brings more of the dreamy, abstract imagery that I experienced when reading the book. it reflects more of the subdued moments in the story. There's a refusal in the song to confront someone. It feels like the disconnection between the astronauts and Charlie X. [Lyrics]

vii. moon in your mouth - goldfrapp : The astronauts love each other. Moss cares so much for Chen, Chen cares so much for Moss, Grayson cares so much for Moss and Chen, and they for her. I wanted to celebrate that while also moving away from the confrontational sounds and lyrics of the earlier tracks. Because of the lighter note, you can think of this song as something from the very beginning of their mission, before trials, before the violence really took hold. Maybe even when they still had Charlie X. [Lyrics]

viii. ptolemaea - ethel cain : We're back at the Company and Charlie X surviving his father. That's really what this is, it's the section of the book where we really learn what Charlie X has done and what has been done to him by his father, by the Company: you poor thing / sweet mourning lamb / there's nothing you can do / it's already been done. The one of the scariest parts of the story. [Lyrics]

ix. evaporate - a.a. williams : It's the general sense of despair. The despair in moments of fear, violence, pain. Uncertainty really. Might seem like a throwaway because I don't have that much to say about it, but I know it feels Right to include. A lot of characters harm themselves, either by their own hand or they put themselves in harm's way. [Lyrics]

x. feather - windhand : We're returning to sounds that remind me of the wasteland again. Could be viewed as despair but I see it as acceptance of what must be done. There's something about it that reminds me most of the blue fox. The sense of knowing that is to come, what has come. [Lyrics]

xi. fight like gods - chelsea wolfe : The closest songs I can find right now that reminds me of the foxes, but the blue fox specifically. The violence upon them frightening like the violence upon Charlie X - moreso even. Turned to retribution, to revolution, to revenge. Oh did they fight like gods. [Lyrics]

xii. marked for death - emma ruth rundle : Another love song, in all the ways to define love. For Moss and Chen. For Moss and Grayson. For Charlie X and the dark bird. For the blue fox and the foxes, the blue fox and perhaps the Strange Bird; for the Strange Bird and... Who will be there when you are dying, when you are dead, when you are going to die. [Lyrics]

xiii. drag me into the woods - holy fawn : I am reminded most of the transformations and changes and alterations the characters go through. Less of a violence and more of the enviably of it? The awareness of it. The changes that happen not so much out of violence but from a place of love or the natural order of things. [Lyrics]

xiv. the things they believe - loathe, john waug : The instrumentals have returned. Some loose ends aren't so loose anymore. Some things make some sense. It's that dreamy landscape again. The dust settling in its own way. A respite from what we've been through.

xv. and, we disappear - alaskan tapes : "We will always be there. Even before we know you. Even after we've known you. Even then. And, finally, she was free."

[emilykaldwen]

The Maiden and the Drowning Boy | Aegon x OC | Chapter Two

Rating: Explicit Ships: Aegon II Targaryen x Abrogail Strong (Lyonel Strong's Daughter), Jacaerys Velaryon x Helaena Targaryen Summary: As the kingdom teeters on the edge of chaos, Alicent Hightower swaps the pieces on the board: Aegon will marry Abrogail Strong, Larys’ younger sister and heir to Harrenhal. Caught in the web of intrigue and political machinations, the pair must figure out where their loyalties lie, and what they mean to one another.

Tropes: Childhood Sweethearts/Friends to Lovers, Generational Trauma and Cycles of Abuse, It's All About the Character Development, Unreliable Narrators, Multi-POV, Canon Divergent, Bisexual Aegon II Targaryen, Book/Show Mash Up, Fix-It Of Sorts, Stopping the Cycle of Abuse before it gets us all killed, Team Neutral, fairy tale vibes meets victorian medievalism meets grrm

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Chapter One

CHAPTER TWO - REWRITE THIS PAIN WE OWN

Aegon grapples with the news of the betrothal. Alicent has a talk with Viserys, and Larys decides to finally step in as a brother. Allegedly.

The cloisters were some of the oldest parts of the Red Keep. They spanned the distance between the high towers of the Hand and Maester, then down along the edge of the main courtyard. Most ignored the courtyard in favor of the Godswood, or the great gardens further down near the cliff edge. This was an overgrown place, where Helaena delighted, once upon a time, in digging up fat pill bugs from the dirt, or where Aemond cried after being stung by a bee from the hive towards the eastern wall; a hidden place, ignored and forgotten by the wisteria and roses that crept along the arches, unkempt and wild and hidden even in the middle of what made the Keep - and the kingdom - turn.

Aegon’s heartbeat was thundering in his ears, and their footsteps echoed off the stone walls of the staircase as he focused on putting as much distance between him and everything in that room as possible. A headache pulsed in time with his frantic heart behind his eyes, and he could taste the acrid, burning bile in the back of his throat.

Betrothed.

The cold, dainty fingers in his damp, feverish hand gripped harder as they burst through the dripping, fragrant purple wisteria draped over the many arches, and out the bright morning sun that streamed into the garden.

“Aegon?” Abby’s voice was normally a sweetly soft or excitedly curious tone. Now, it cut through the pounding rush of blood in his ears with the way it shook with uncertainty and concern.

He abruptly let go of her hand and crashed through the flower beds instead of following the stone path that the moss had all but consumed. Buzzing filled his ears, and he fell to his knees beside a red berry bush and promptly heaved out the contents of his stomach. His world narrowed down to the raw tearing inside his throat, the painful clench of his insides, his whole body jerking with the motion as the mess spattered and soaked into the soft soil.

The ravens that called the great, weeping cherry tree home burst into the air with a litany of shrieks, clearly disgusted by the display before them.

Aren’t we all? he thought, fingers plunging into the sun warmed soil while his body decided it needed a break. Aegon gasped, dizzy and unable to catch his breath as panic fought to settle in his chest. The clamminess had not started yet. A good sign. He did not think he could withstand the onslaught of nerves that burst beneath his hangover.

“Aegon? Are you alright?” she asked, still in that gentle, worried tone. His mother sounded that way once upon a time, and with his eyes closed, Aegon could almost imagine it was his mother’s voice full of concern. It was not the voice of Alicent Hightower, however, but Abby and the worry that she hid behind her constant, ever present smile.

Except for years back, when her ocean blue eyes had gone dark and her little mouth went flat. Back then when her world burst into flames, he tried to save her. The girl he’d wrenched from the depths of grief had come back too bright, too smiling, too worried for everyone else but herself. Too prepared to burn herself out for everyone else while she froze.

He could only give her a resounding groan in response, because, well, it was exactly how he felt. He tensed, waiting to hear her footsteps through the garden to him, for it was something she would do: make sure he was alright, run a cool hand over his burning skin as she’d done for as long as he could remember. Shame burned his cheeks. He did not want her to see him like this. He hated it, and yet, here they were.

She’d have to get used to it, won’t she? Miserable, disgusting lech that you are.

Aegon chanced a glance over through damp tendrils of hair in his eyes, and saw her slippered feet and the swish of her blue skirt move away towards the willow and fountain that anchored the west end of the garden. He exhaled slowly, relief easing the knot in his chest while he watched the blue fabric finally vanish behind a bush with fat, pink and blue flowers. Perhaps she’d go drown herself in the fountain like a girl from a song to avoid this.

This, the thing he’d wanted since he was a boy and now could not run from faster.

Betrothal.

Marriage.

Aegon carefully lay down beside the bush, arm flung out and hair sticking to the dampness of his forehead. He was never awake this early, when the sun had barely crested over the walls. His throat burned and his stomach ached, chest too tight, and if he stood, he’d have to face her and it was the last thing he wanted to do.

He wanted to face her with a straight spine, sword at his side, a hand extended. My lady, he’d say, and her cherubic cheeks with her freckles would blush as red as her beautiful curls. Will you take me as your husband? He’d ask and show her how much he wanted her, instead of being ordered to. Her heart shaped mouth would part in surprise, her doll-like features bright with joy. Her fingers would slip into his, cold to his hot and he’d wrap her up and keep her warm. Warm and smiling and happy until they were old and gray and crumbling into dust.

Gods, he’d be so good to her.

Instead, she was alone over there and he was alone over here, dizzy and smelling of wine and vomit with a bite mark from one of the women he’d fucked either last night or mayhaps it had been in the early hours of this morning, right on his thigh from a less than stellar servicing.

The names of the others his mother and grandfather had listed off floated through his mind. Every single suitor was surely more worthy to be whatever it was they wanted him to be; every single one another reminder that they were forcing this. They weren’t even giving her to him, not to love like he wanted. No, they were taking his Maiden and turning her into a pawn just like him, placing her on the board beside him to move them both as his mother and grandfather pleased.

It felt like something sacrificial; dark and maybe sacred in whatever deals had been made, whatever machinations brewed behind the curtains that he could not see.

Everything worth having was meant to be claimed as he had Sunfyre, not shoved into his arms behind deceptively passive smiles.

A butterfly with green and blue wings edged in black floated across his vision and he wondered if Helaena had come out here recently. A fat bumblebee came afterwards, and he remained still and unblinking as it came near his nose, So close he could feel the brief brush of air from its buzzing wings, before it wandered away towards something that was far prettier and smelled better.

As Aegon’s ears adjusted to the sounds of the garden, he could finally make out the trickle of water from the fountain, and amidst it, the quiet murmur of Abby’s voice as she must be talking or humming to herself. He focused on the sound, as loathsome as he felt, and it helped ease the knots that had wound their way between his ribs. It always had. Long ago, when they were small, he’d crawl under tables to hide and press his heated skin against the cold floor. Her fingers would stroke his hair, and he’d plead for extras out of the treats she’d pilfer from the kitchens.

He hummed softly, soothing himself as he tried and gathered up the courage to rise shakily to his feet. His head spun, and he wobbled a bit before turning to focus on where she had gone. The humming caught in his throat as he finally focused on the sight before him, air leaving his lungs.

The fountain deep within the overgrowth still ran. Cool, crystal clear water poured from the cupped palms of the kneeling dragon queen. Queen Rhaenys tilted her lovely face up, a joyful expression forever etched in stone as the head and neck of her dragon, Meraxes, curled around her protectively.

They said that the Conqueror had never recovered the body of his love, for Rhaenys had died in Dorne and they’d only brought back the dragon’s head. Meraxes was ensconced below in Balerion’s Hall, for his sire was allegedly a romantic, although it was the Black Dread that was worshiped. He privately thought - since none cared for his voiced opinions - that his namesake would rather it be Meraxes they worshiped, or the two together. Aegon wondered if they interred part of the lost Queen within the garden, for the Conqueror’s tower loomed above the cloisters, and the King would look down upon the garden, where he sought solace after her passing.

Joy, his maester once said, had left the world when Rhaenys died, and that loss of joy gave rise to Maegor. As a child, he thought he’d marry his Maiden out of desire just as his namesake did Queen Rhaenys. As a child in their games, he was the Conqueror, and she his joyful queen, who he’d rescue from a terrible fate in Dorne, or from dastardly lords who’d want to claim her. Jaceaerys’ had played Harren the Black once, with Abby taking part of the hostage Queen (even though it never really happened, it didn’t matter). How fierce and bright his joy had been to hear her call out for him while he climbed the rocky outcropping of ‘Harren’s Tower’. How hard he fought to rescue her from Jacaerys’ clutches, where she’d cling to him and he’d protect her as they made their escape. For he could do what the Conqueror could not - save the one who held his heart.

How much he enjoyed being the hero to the rest of them. How he lived for her reliance on him as her protector in their mock battles.

The weeping cherry tree towered over this part of the garden. Its branches spread out and dappled the morning light that streamed in. Moss ran over the stone path of the garden and along the edges of the fountain where Rhaenys’ statue reached out to him. His red-rimmed eyes moved from the stone face to where Abby sat. She focused on something in the water, one hand reaching up to brace on the snout of the stone dragon as she leaned over. The long ends of her curls dragged through the water with the motion as she pushed something, murmuring words he couldn’t hear. A laugh escaped her as her mouth broke into an amused smile, so unlike the frightened one she gave him in the tower. The smile she wore to comfort others when she was afraid.

I loved a maid as red as autumn, with sunset in her hair.

The wind shook petals from the tree, sending the pink cascading down to blanket the surrounding area, and caught in her delicate curls. She did not notice him, and he approached quietly as the moss muffled his footsteps.

“Oh dear, not there, you little sailor. This way with the current,” she said, her laughing tone was bright, but he could hear the tremulous edge beneath it. Her hand reached out to a floating leaf, a tiny frog perched happily upon it.

Aegon moved slowly so as not to startle her. Perhaps he was buying himself time, knowing that everything careful in the moment was on the precipice of shattering. He stepped towards her, so close he could nearly feel the gentle warmth of her form. The scent of bergamot and rose clung softly to her hair, and as he leaned down to sit beside her, he instinctively raised his arm to catch around her waist lest she tumble into the cold water.

He froze. Her eyes met his in the reflection.

The back of his throat burned.

“Careful.” His voice was hoarse and raw, and even in the ripples of the water he could see how pale and sallow he looked. How pitiful compared to the delicate look of hers. “You don’t want to fall and hit your head.”

He pulled his arm back. He could not initiate. She was welcome to do so, but Aegon? Aegon was a greedy thing. It gnawed like a dragon in his chest. He did not trust himself to ever touch first, to not pull her into his ribs and cage her inside of him, to not make her his to hold and hoard.

He felt dizzy and the burning in the back of his throat grew. His vision spun and Aegon dropped to his knees on the ledge and plunged his head beneath the water before he could vomit all over her. The world was pleasantly muffled beneath the water, and he shut his eyes, exhaling bubbles in the water. Time slowed, the heat of his skin cooled, and Aegon felt like he was floating. Even his headache had eased.

Hands gripped and tugged at his shoulders, pulling him from the floating world he had hidden himself in. Abby left him gasping and sputtering, her little fists shaking him, and he finally focused on her tirade. “Careful not to hit my head? Aegon! What are you doing?” she cried.

Water streamed down his face, plastering his hair to his head and obscuring his eyes. Sputtering and coughing for air, Aegon felt the bubbling of giggles falling from him like a madman. His shoulders shook, delighting in her reaction and the way her usually calm demeanor gave way to worry and annoyance.

It should not have brought him great joy to see her reaction, and yet…

Aegon’s giggles continued, although he had the great decency to try to soften them at the angry flash in her lovely blue eyes. The fabric of her blue dress had darkened in spots from the water he’d sent everywhere; it soaked her sleeves up to the elbows and his eyes caught a few beads of water tracing down her throat into the square neckline of her dress, along the soft sprinkle of freckles and… he should not be looking, but she was his betrothed now. That meant it was okay, right?

He tore his gaze from the blush that spread along her throat. He should not look. He could not look. He could not be trusted.

“At least we like one another,” she offered with her usual hopefulness and tried to get him to meet her eyes. “That counts for something, doesn’t it, Aegon?”

Stop saying my name, he thought. Then, never stop saying it, Seven, never stop.

Aegon snorted, his laughter bursting forth before he could even stop and think of it. The water that still trickled over his face spewed out from his nose and he could feel his face heat from his dance at the edge of hysterics. Amusement and abject panic, always. “Like one another?” he gasped out amid his fit. He fell back onto the grass. “What a grand marriage liking one another will make.” His own parents had liked one another once, and he dealt with the fallout of that every moment he drew breath.

Tears welled up in his eyes from his exertions and as the laughter settled, he realized he was alone in it. Confusion overtook the panic, and he finally focused on her.

Abby still sat on the edge of the fountain, her head turned away. Her curls hung down and spilled once more into the water, but he could see how red her face was. One arm had wrapped itself around her waist with fingers hooked into her belt; the other gripped the edge of the worn stone with white knuckles. There were no twitching, bloody fingers, but the cut of her shoulders tensed all too familiarly, too familially.

Her chin was trembling and her teeth had bitten into the plump pink of her lower lip. A bead of blood welled and rolled down her chin. Red streaked across her flushed skin when she hurriedly wiped it away.

Aegon’s laughter eased, his mouth dry, mirth still clear from the tear streaks on his cheeks, and something painful and heated ignited in the pit of his stomach.

Good, he thought. It was good that he’d upset her. It was good for her to expect less.

“You know, I didn’t ask for this either, Aegon.” Her tone was even, but instead of gentle, it was sharp. A sudden swipe of claws because his ankle had gotten too close to the cat who had been napping there. “I never asked for you.”

I never wanted you, he heard lurking beneath, and that ugly, heated thing burned inside of him. She couldn’t even look at him and Aegon’s heated cheeks darkened and he could feel it spreading down his neck, past his soaking collar, until it felt like his very heart might burst out of his chest at the humiliation that was settling in.

“I never asked for you either.” He was pushing up to his feet just as she was, and she still would not look at him. “Aren’t you getting the better deal out of this, anyway? I’m making you a fucking princess. Abrogail-” He reached out to jerk at her arm that still wrapped around her waist, fingers harsh and angry and Aegon could not help himself.

A chirp escaped her, The same sort she made when she touched a bowl that was too hot, or stabbed herself with her embroidery needles.

She finally looked up at him, and the humiliation he felt deepened as the shame threatened to manifest and noose around his neck. Her mouth pinched white around the edges except for the blood that welled along where she’d bitten her lip, her large blue eyes glossy and shining in that way he hated and had promised once upon a time, childishly, to protect her from.

The urge to drag his tongue along the streak of crimson across her mouth was growing, anything but childish and he forced his focus to anything else. His eyes darted to the hand that held her upper arm and the way his fingers pressed in hard enough to push in the fabric of her pretty, now wet, dress. So distracted by his hand on her arm, Aegon did not notice her other hand rise until she clawed at the exposed skin of his wrist and he howled in pain, immediately releasing her and looking at the four streaks of red across the back of his wrist and the blood that welled up.

Good, he thought again, as instead of that helpless look she had, it morphed into something flushed and angry at him. Better this than that biddable sweetness she used to placate herself and others. Better her rage than delusion.

I’m sorry, his lips moved to try form the words but her delicate hands came up and shoved him with a grunt. There wasn’t a lot of strength behind it, but with how unsteady he was already, it took little to send him sprawling back on his ass on the ground.

“I’ve never asked for anything from you, Aegon,” she croaked out. Her skirts gathered in her hands, she all but ran from him and the garden, disappearing behind the dripping wisteria and into the Keep.

Good.

Aegon scowled at his reflection in the fountain, and scattered it in his frustration.

“You were missed at council today, Viserys,” Alicent said as the doors to the King’s chambers were shut behind her, her voice as clipped as her footsteps along the stone floor.

A slight cough shook the King’s shoulders. He had been unwell the past few weeks, but was getting around again now, finally out of bed and reclined in his chair with furs piled around him. Maester Mellos had expressed concern about him losing the rest of the arm, but they’d saved it. Viserys hummed, turning the pages of the book before him, and Alicent was truly taken aback by how similar Aemond and Viserys were. The boy had spent little time around his disinterested father, so she could not attribute the similarity - the tone of the hum, the focus on the book of histories rather than to whatever she might be saying - to anything other than inheritance.

At least the disinterest was not among the traits passed down. Aemond paid attention to her. Aemond listened to her. Aemond, her baby boy, her brightest star, cared for her, and heard her.

A fondness built in her chest - rare the past handful of years. She had not always felt resentment towards her husband. Once, she even enjoyed his company, sitting and listening to him speak of matters that were close to him, being a valuable voice of reason. It was Viserys who had opened the seat on the Small Council to her, as his queen, gifting her something not even Aemma Arryn had.

Perhaps that was why it all hurt so much.

“We have summoned the Lords Blackwood and Bracken, along with Lord Tully - I’m assuming the grandson - to answer for the continued violence that has not ceased.” Alicent’s report fell from her like a page bringing a missive to their master and the familiarity of the charade grated on her nerves but she kept her tone neutral. A simple recounting of events to keep the king apprised of the council that she ran now.

That received a response. Viserys tilted his head with a curious furrow of his brow. “Why ever for? It is a Riverlands matter, Not something to concern ourselves with.”

“It is not simply a Riverlands matter when they are burning each other’s lands and whomever gets caught in the crossfire. Lord Tully will not bring them to heel,” Alicent normally did not snip so quickly in their conversations, but her concerns and worry overshadowed her careful control. Of course, Aegon frayed her nerves more than they already were. She was on edge, as time with her eldest always pushes her to. “The council thought it best that we summon the three houses together for mediation, so they may see that their actions have far-reaching implications.” She paused, reaching to pick up the dragon figurine atop one of the dusty buildings. The stone mason had done a remarkable job fixing it all those years ago. The cracks were barely visible, but still there. “Should the Riverlands show weakness, the Ironborn may decide that may prove better ground for raiding once more.”

“Mmm, sounds like Tyland would rather have the Riverlands bicker and peck at one another then. I believe Lord Farman wrote of a raid a few moons ago? Best to give them somewhere else to look. I fear the Ironborn will always be trouble no matter what.” Viserys chuckled at his own black humor and Alicent nodded, a tight smile creasing her features. Tyland knew ships, knew the sea, but he was no Corlys Velaryon, who had no plans to return to shore soon, judging by the last updates he’d sent from the Stepstones. “A slow meeting, then?”

The pumice stone scraped softly as she put the dragon back. “We announced the engagement of Aegon to Abrogail Strong.” Viserys looked confused once more before recollection dawned on him and he made a quiet ‘ah’. “The Grand Maester and Lord Tyland thought that, with Aegon’s name day approaching, we might combine the celebration and throw a tournament, and maybe a hunt.”

The fire crackled in the quiet and Alicent finally allowed herself to relax and pour herself a cup of wine from the side table before taking a seat on the chair normally reserved for the stonemason. She did not mind a bit of dust. “Aegon will be eight and ten. A man grown, A man who will now marry and start a family of his own. That is worthy of celebration, is it not?” A sad smile crossed her face as she met her husband’s eyes and found a mirror of her own expression there.

“Aye, it is. I remember how much he laughed when we took him on that hunt. Do you remember?” Wistful, Viserys tilted his head and picked up a half carved dragon. “Waving his wooden dragon around, his joyful laughter.” A lump formed in Alicent’s throat, and she occupied herself with her wine glass. “He was always laughing, I remember that, before the others came along. Didn’t enjoy sharing the spotlight, did he?” Another chuckle. “But I think we’ve raised a fine boy, haven’t we?”

It was Alicent’s turn to be struck dumb. The recollection of Grandmaester Mellos struggling to find anything to say about her son came back to mind and the stab of pain between her ribs had her turning her head with a nod and a hum. Unbidden, she thought of Rhaenyra, crying softly beside her in the sept for the loss of her mother, and the confusion at feeling as if her own father did not understand her. Alicent took a gulp of wine. Quiet for a moment before she allowed herself to speak. “Yes, my love, we have raised a fine boy.”

“My father would find it strange, you know, that Aegon does not marry Helaena. Your father thought we should wed Rhaenyra to Aegon, but Laenor, rest his soul, was such a good man.” The comment had Alicent’s eyes widening, and she nearly choked as she took another sip of wine.

“He suggested what?” Whatever expression she had earned laughter from the king as she dabbed at her wine soaked chin.

“That was my reaction,” he chuckled. “Ridiculous. Things have a way of working themselves out, though, do they not? Why, I jested with Lyonel that very night if he was going to offer his son to marry Rhaenyra after Jason Lannister thought he could offer my daughter compensation.”

Funny that, Alicent thought, keeping her features still as the stone that lay between them. Guilt twisted in her belly at the memory of Lyonel Strong. How grateful in her grief and solitude she had been for the warm companionship of her cousin, Celeste, his wife. How grateful for the kindness she and Lyonel had shown her - the closest she had to family that were not her own children. How guilty she still felt to know that Lyonel’s death was through her own desperation.

“Lord Lyonel would approve the match. I recall we had discussed it once, not long before…” She swallowed, her mouth gone dry, and Alicent flexed her fingers against her goblet, stretching them out like a cat flexing its claws. The tension that ran through them ached.

Viserys hummed again, losing his longtime friend visible on his features and he drummed his fingers upon the book before him. “Did he? He never mentioned it to me, but…” A shift of his countenance as he visibly recoiled against the sadness and grief. “Aegon will find a fine wife in the Strong girl, if she’s anything like her father. Lyonel did well to temper some of my admittedly more foolish ideas. I may have been more inclined to listen without issue had they come from a comely maiden.”

Another pang, this time as she recognized the smirk on Viserys’ face as the same she’d seen across Aegon’s as he teased his siblings with some ribald comment.

That had come from observation, she was certain. As had the drinking.

Alicent took another sip of her wine.

“Lord Larys has suggested that after they’re married, Aegon and Abrogail would go to Harrenhal. She is his heir. Aegon could do well to have some responsibility. We will have to decide what to do with Sunfyre.”

“You cannot separate a boy from his dragon. Rhaena housed Dreamfyre at Harrenhal when she resided there. We’ll ensure they’re up to snuff before they go.” A glimmer crossed his features, curiosity and excitement. “My grandfather gave Harrenhal to the Strongs. It seems fitting that we have come full circle. You know, it was a Strong who was the longest serving Hand of the Conqueror. They are the most loyal of friends. Advisors. Defenders.”

It was her turn to hum, biting back the urge to invoke how Ser Lucamore Strong had sired nigh a dozen bastard children before being sent to the Wall. At least in Ser Harwin’s case, he had not been a Kingsguard - not that vows had stopped Rhaenyra before. Alicent took a breath, willing the vindictiveness to bleed out of her. Those were unkind things to think, for Harwin was not the one at fault. The princess’ whims drove Harwin, as poor, loyal Criston before him, into her clutches.

Rhaenyra had never been offered up on a platter - not in the way she’d been, not in the way she was doing to Abrogail. Mother above, please forgive me, Celeste.

Alicent did not seek to fill the silence. She watched her husband look at his book, but knew he was not truly reading it. No, he was planning something, tapping down his temper, or both. Viserys always had a temper, even if it rarely burned as hotly as Rhaenyra’s did. She had gotten better at withstanding the heat, as she’d gotten better at withstanding many things over the years.

“Why aren’t we marrying Aegon and Helaena?” he finally asked. It was only a question, no lure and trap beneath his words. “You were so against the match with Rhaenyra’s boy, so why not them? Had I a living sister, I would have married her. It’s the Targaryen way.”

The Targaryen Way is not always the right way, she thought. Aegon’s claim would need to challenge Rhaenyra’s without question, but her solution would not be to yoke her sweet daughter to her own brother simply because they were half dragons.

She remembered Aemond, maimed and covered in bandages to protect the wound from infection, standing in the doorway of the solar at breakfast. It had left her speechless in the moment, but now the memory left a slight smile gracing her face.

“Because Aemond bonded with Vhagar, and declared that should Helaena marry anyone but him, he would burn the realm down and us with it.”

The sentence hung in the air until Viserys roared with laughter and Alicent joined him. It had been so long since she had laughed that tears pricked the corners of her eyes. It felt good to laugh with the man she called husband, than to feel so terribly lonely.

“Spirited! Boy knows what he wants.” He slapped his hand on the open book before him with another laugh. “Well, how about a two-fold celebration? We could-”

“I thought, perhaps, a Baratheon marriage might suit Aemond. He is of an age with Lord Borros’ eldest. With Abrogail leaving, she may also make a fine companion for Helaena, and maybe another sister for the Harrenhal court. I was going to write to him, invite her to the Keep so they may get to know one another.” Helaena would need time to adapt to a new companion, and she was not looking forward to the fallout of the changes should her daughter not go along with it. Viserys’ laughter ebbed and Alicent swirled the wine in her goblet. The garnet liquid caught the firelight. Fire and blood. She tapped her fingers along the sides of it, knowing that she had to be careful. “The gods blessed us with three sons and a single daughter. We should take advantage of that to help spread some stability in the realm.”

Sons you so desperately wanted and then summarily denied.

“Is the realm truly so unstable, wife?” Sharp, pink-lilac eyes turned to her. Another expression, this one similar to the gaze that Helaena took when she was trying to convey something of import. The color was different: Aegon’s eyes were his father’s, Helaena’s closer to lavender, Aemond’s a periwinkle, and Daeron’s a cornflower blue so commonplace they’d pass for Andal were their shine not so luminous.

“No, but we have four children, husband, who will need to have their futures ensured and cared for,” she pointed out reasonably and nothing she said was wrong. Their futures needed to be assured. Viserys gave little response, but she could see he knew she was right. Quiet reigned once more. She noticed cobwebs had formed along the primary thoroughfare of the stone city.

“The blood of the dragon must remain pure, Alicent,” Viserys said with a strength absent from before. Alicent looked over at her husband, who did not look at her. Instead, he’d risen and stepped closer into the inlet of his miniature Valyria. “We are above mortal men. We are dragonriders, and dreamers of great things. Aegon the Conqueror dreamed of great things, of this realm that has, in fact, become great.”

Where was Viserys going with this? “I remember you telling me. Aegon’s second name day, in front of the bonfire.” He’d been mad with grief and drink, had scared her with his dream of Aegon wearing the crown in front of an adoring crowd - how Aemma had paid the price for chasing it, with his doubt and confusion as their son slept soundly in his little bed. She opened her mouth to press the matter, but the king continued.

“You are not a Targaryen, my dear wife, but that does not mean that no matter how you dress them in green, your children will be anything but.” Alicent drew back in her chair and the grip on her cup tightened. Her children, not his. Not his no matter what happened. “Pursue this Baratheon marriage if you’d like, and should Aemond want it, then it’s fine with me. If his mind is not changed, then they have my blessing.”

Abrogail felt like she was fraying at the edges, unmoored from her usual sense of self: calm, collected, able to focus regardless of what was on her mind. None of that mattered in the wake of what happened in the tower or what followed between her and Aegon. She’d barely allowed herself any time to collect herself before joining Helaena and Aemond in the gardens, letting Aemond fill the silence as Helaena’s focus ebbed and flowed.

So distracted she’d been, thoughts lingering on the morning’s events, that she hadn’t heard Helaena’s persistent calling until she’d snapped a frustrated “What?” to be met with Helaena’s surprised gasp and wide eyes… which in turn had Aemond turning an angry eye to her viciously. He hadn’t said anything particularly harsh, but with her own guilt at snapping and Aegon’s behavior, and then Aemond’s anger, she’d left the gardens in tears, ignoring Helaena’s calls for her to come back. The princess hadn’t ordered her return. Perhaps for the best.

Perhaps she’d be pulled from her service sooner than anticipated, and replaced with Penrose. Punished for her insolence. Marrying Aegon, did that mean she was on the same level as Helaena? That once married, Helaena couldn’t order her about, or that Abby was meant to serve her?

More often than not, Abrogail was Helaena’s bedmate, the two girls sharing pillows since she’d become the princess’ proper companion. It meant that her rooms outside the holdfast had all but been abandoned. She was a visitor more often than a tenant, so much so that it had taken Allana Tyrell and Josana Lannister a moment to recognize her when they passed in the halls - the elder girls arrived at court after a season away - and exchanged pleasantries. Abrogail all but ran the last few yards to her destination, and nearly slammed the heavy door shut behind her.

The apartments that belonged to Larys were modest, housing only a sitting room and two bedrooms: Larys’ to the left and hers to the right. So unlike the warm, multiple levels of the Hand’s tower that she’d spent years exploring and playing in. The room was empty when she burst in and she was grateful that her quiet, piercing elder brother could not witness her state as she sought solace in the cold and empty chamber. There was no warm fire crackling merrily in the hearth to welcome her, and she had to go back to the sitting room to fetch the pitcher of water there to clean her face from the tears and calm the burning of her cheeks. Not even Theraxis was there to comfort her as he often did, rolled onto his back, fluffy belly offered to bury her face in and have her hair licked by his sandpaper tongue.

A sob tore at her chest and she gulped the rest down and went to the bed and collapsed upon the cold sheets. Fingers curling in the comforter, she tried her best to hold back her tears. Even alone, she could not let the despair overcome her.

It had not been long after her mama died that Corynna, her elder half sister and Larys’ sister, had sent word that she would take her sweet little sister as she needed a strong, motherly presence in her life. Abrogail had been distraught and trying to hide it as they had fallen into a game of hide and seek that bright day.

I’ll marry you, Aegon had whispered into her hair, the pair of them hiding beneath the heavy boughs of a flowering bush as Jacaerys played seeker in their game of hide-and-seek. I’ll marry you and they won’t send you away because you’ll be mine. They’d been little more than babes in leading strings then, where Aegon’s smile had not faded into bitterness and her life had still been warm and safe. Crumbled sweets shared as the pair did their best to hide from the persistent Jace, and it had been Harwin who found them hours later. Asleep surrounded by the scent of rhododendrons and petals caught in red and silver heads both.

She did not know how long she lay atop her bed, only that the shaft of sunlight through the narrow window inched across the bed and across her skirts until the familiar drag-thump drew her notice towards the door. Larys was generally quiet and she’d only heard it for it was a sound she knew her whole life.

Her brother was taller than he generally appeared, and in the half light of the early evening, for a moment Abrogail thought he looked very much like their father. The same widow’s peak, the similar set of the jaw even though Lyonel had been a larger man than his second son. She sat up, swiping her sleeve across her face as Larys watched her with his inscrutable look.

“I needed to be alone,” she said softly. “I apologize for bothering you.” She wasn’t sure if she truly needed to apologize for being in her own room, but it was often difficult to discern her brother’s reaction to her. They weren’t close, and their relationship was not a warm one. Abrogail felt that when it came to her, Larys Strong was not quite sure what to make of her or even what to do with her.

“It is your room,” he finally said with a tilt of his head and an ambivalent shrug. She watched him as he perused the area, lingering on the empty grate and then to her. Years of practice kept her from instinctively shifting beneath his gaze but it was still an uncomfortable feeling being sized up. “Although it is not very comforting for what troubles you. I’m sure today has been more than a shock to you, sister.” Abrogail opened her mouth, then closed it with a click and merely nodded. He let out a hum and tapped his cane on the floor before opening the door further. “Well, it all works out in the end. I meant to speak with you this evening anyway. Come - Father would insist you have a belly full of warm food to dry your tears.”

As if on cue, her stomach growled and the scent of fresh bread and meat finally registered. She was starving, having only eaten that morning and so she followed her brother into the sitting room. It was warmer, the fire blazing, and the table was set with plates of food and fresh Malvales flowers in a vase. Abrogail frowned slightly at the sight of them. The only other place she’d seen them other than the Godswood was in the Queen’s chambers. She knew her brother counseled Queen Alicent and they shared meals from time to time, but the flowers still seemed strange. The servant who’d brought the food ladled fresh, steaming boar stew onto plates and Abrogail reached for a warm roll when her eyes caught on the basket of cakes to the side. They glistened with syrup, and the fresh scent of oranges assaulted her when she drew close until her brother’s sharp tsk stopped her. “For after you’ve finished your plate.” A slight twitch of a smile when he sat himself down, dismissing the servant and for a moment she simply stared at him.

“You sounded so much like Papa,” she said as she sat across from him.

“Mmm, I do hear that sometimes. I suppose one tends to pick up manners from their elders. How often I’ve heard those very words come from him, hm?” She scrunched her face up with a half smile playing on her own features and quietly dug in.

Neither Strong attempted to fill the silence as they tucked into their meal. Only the scrape of cutlery and the quiet sounds of eating filled the space. It didn’t feel like a standoff between them, even more so than when it was Larys who finally broke the silence.

“Cory will be mollified by the fact that you’re marrying a prince instead of one of the Lannister bannermen,” he said nonchalantly as he spoke of his sister. “She’s been hounding me to send you to her, but I know how much this place is home to you. Harrenhal is a far closer ride on your husband’s dragon than in a wheelhouse or on a ship from Lannisport.”

“Has she?” Abrogail wasn’t sure what else to say as the thoughts that swirled through her continued to distract her. Her and her sister were not at all close. Clever and sharply delicate, Corynna Strong could have gone to the Citadel had she been born a man. Instead, she had begrudgingly married the third Lannister son as the eldest was unavailable and Abrogail privately thought that their father had sent Cory away to be kept under the hawkish, watchful eye of Johanna Lannister instead of getting underfoot there in King’s Landing.

Abrogail did not complain. The few times she’d been with her, Cory was a sharp, judgemental woman who always had a criticism for how to improve herself, and more often than not had taken to pinching her arms and waist and assessing with that inscrutable countenance she shared with Larys. “Uncle Otto mentioned several,” she paused to tear at a piece of bread to keep from fidgeting. “Several, um, suitors? You never mentioned them.”

“Well the Queen didn’t either and although I am your brother, and head of our house, you are her ward, and because she is Queen, she too has a say in who, ah, takes you.” Larys looked apologetic and uncertain of how to word it and she nodded in understanding to put him at ease. “Her Grace is quite fond of you, you know. She only wants what is best for you, as if you were her own daughter. It is sweet. Your mother would be pleased.”

Abrogail bit her lip and looked down at her plate. Tines of the fork scraped along the edge pushing meat through sauce. Targaryens have queer customs, marrying their siblings or their uncles, she thought. Would her and Aegon’s children have to wed one another, as was tradition? Her head pounded with all the questions and she struggled to find a place to begin.

“Yes, I think she would,” she said finally and met her brother’s concerned gaze. It was the softest she’d ever seen him, which was saying a lot given his nature. For the first time, Abrogail felt like her brother might actually feel like her brother. “I don’t know where to start with all my questions, Larys,” she found herself admitting, reaching to him across this distance. “From being your heir, to how this all came to happen. I’m so overwhelmed and…” she trailed off with a slump of her shoulders and another lump in her throat.

She reached for her goblet of red wine, trying to push the feeling away. A wince crossed her features as the sharpness of it hit her tongue. She tended to favor the sweetness of ciders and meads.

The scent of the arbor red reminded her of Aegon.

Abrogail put the goblet down and cleared her throat. “Excuse me, brother.”

“No need, dear sister. Being overwhelmed is only natural in this case, but your willingness to be open with your questions reassures me that you and I can start forging our own road. You are my heir, and although we are not close, I do care for you, Abrogail.”

“Do you?” she asked. She raised her eyebrows. “Larys, you’ve made it abundantly clear that you don’t even like me.”

He matched her expression with his own. “I do. Besides, you are a woman grown now and far easier to talk to than a rambunctious child of eight.” Abrogail felt her cheeks heat and she couldn’t find fault in his argument there. A soft chuckle escaped him and she watched him resume tearing apart a roll. He did it so oddly and always had. Fingers carefully working along the circumference of the warm bread and slowly spreading it apart, so the soft interior gently pulled as if he savored the very act.

To be fair, it was good bread.

“There are none that attract my gaze, and I doubt there ever shall be. Given that I have little penchant for things like mistresses or whoring, there will be no progeny. Corynna’s rights are forfeit, as she’s married a Lannister.” He paused, gazing at her for a long moment until she realized he expected an answer from her.

Abrogail frowned as she thought. Corynna had married a third son, but the children of that union may very well wed Lord Jason’s son, Or marry into banner houses should they not have more children. Or even become heirs of the Rock. “As long as Rhaenyra is heir, Aegon is fourth in line. If he marries me, he gains a title and lands,” she said slowly. Jacaerys would take the throne one day, and Lucerys would have Driftmark. Little Joffrey may very well marry into another great house, but there were no more titles and lands to pass off, and that was before Queen Alicent’s children were considered, and the Queen wanted Aegon to be King.

To say it out loud would be treason, and when Abrogail’s eyes found Larys’, he gave an encouraging nod. “Harrenhal would provide income independent of what is owed the crown?” Uncertainty laced her voice. She did not know much about her family’s seat. She’d only been there a handful of times, half of them having been full of grief and misery, but she did know that outside of hushed whispers of curses and ghosts, that Harrenhal’s lands were the richest in Westeros when they were handled properly. “Harrenhal is why those other families wanted me, isn’t it?”

“Some,” Larys said matter of factly. “Tully and Vance in particular given their proximity and would benefit the most. Others claimed to be enchanted by the young beauty they’d heard of growing in the Queen’s garden.” The words sounded too poetic for the man her brother seemed and the incredulous look on her face must have been all he needed, for Larys actually laughed. A strange, unused sound and a shake of his head. “Those were the words of the Vance heir, I believe. Should they have been romantic enough, you could still say no to this current arrangement.”

No, Abrogail thought. No, she couldn’t.

She wanted to ask Larys why he would be alright with her saying no. If it had been her father, she would have. Her papa had never turned her curiosity and questions away. No matter how silly or simple they may have been, he was always happy to teach her. This was probably the longest conversation they’d had since the funeral, but Abrogail did not feel comfortable asking. Not yet. Maybe… maybe someday.

“Thank you,” she said instead with a small smile and Larys seemed pleased with that. “I would like to learn more about Harrenhal. Before the wedding and everything. I want to make you proud. I want to make Papa proud.” She swallowed past the lump in her throat and was grateful that Larys did not look up at her and instead focused on buttering another bread roll.

“As my heir, I will begin to discuss these things with you, and you should begin speaking with our uncle. He will be here for the engagement tournament.” The butter knife scraped against the wooden dish as he went for more. She watched his dark hair fall into his eyes, the way Harwin’s curls would and the tightening sensation in her chest came back. Another mouthful of wine, which only reminded her of Aegon again.

Aegon’s fingers in her hair, thumb brushing her tears in the quiet of the Sept. “I’m so sorry you lost them. I’m so sorry they’re gone.”

“Abrogail?”

She blinked and found him watching her with a gentle expression. He smiled that small smile of his. “I said, perhaps we can start having our own dinners. Get to know one another better.”

“You mean like how you have dinners with the Queen?” Once a week, the pair of them met privately in her solar. She’d seen them once through the window, the pair discussing things or the queen’s voice raised about whatever terrible thing had happened that week. A friendship. A council.

Larys’ smile broadened. “Yes, dear sister. Exactly like that.”

[Chapter Three]

[justforbooks]

Rita Hayworth (born Margarita Carmen Cansino; October 17, 1918 – May 14, 1987) was an American actress, dancer, and pin-up girl. She achieved fame in the 1940s as one of the top stars of the Golden Age of Hollywood, and appeared in 61 films in total over 37 years. The press coined the term "The Love Goddess" to describe Hayworth, after she had become the most glamorous screen idol of the 1940s. She was the top pin-up girl for GIs during World War II.

Hayworth is perhaps best known for her performance in the 1946 film noir Gilda, opposite Glenn Ford, in which she played the femme fatale in her first major dramatic role. She is also known for her performances in Only Angels Have Wings (1939), The Strawberry Blonde (1941), Blood and Sand (1941), The Lady from Shanghai (1947), Pal Joey (1957), and Separate Tables (1958). Fred Astaire, with whom she made two films, You'll Never Get Rich (1941) and You Were Never Lovelier (1942), once called her his favorite dance partner. She also starred in the Technicolor musical Cover Girl (1944), with Gene Kelly. She is listed as one of the top 25 female motion picture stars of all time in the American Film Institute's survey, AFI's 100 Years...100 Stars.

Hayworth was a top glamour girl in the 1940s, a pin-up girl for military servicemen and a beauty icon for women. At 5 ft 6 in (1.68 m) and 120 lb (54 kg), she was tall enough to be a concern for dancing partners such as Fred Astaire. She reportedly changed her hair color eight times in eight movies.

In 1949, Hayworth's lips were voted best in the world by the Artists League of America. She had a modeling contract with Max Factor to promote its Tru-Color lipsticks and Pan-Stik make-up.

For her contribution to the motion picture industry, Hayworth received a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame at 1645 Vine Street in 1960.

In 1980, Hayworth was diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer's disease, which contributed to her death in 1987 at age 68. The public disclosure and discussion of her illness drew attention to Alzheimer's, and helped to increase public and private funding for research into the disease.

The public disclosure and discussion of Hayworth's illness drew international attention to Alzheimer's disease, which was little known at the time, and it helped to greatly increase federal funding for Alzheimer's research.

The Rita Hayworth Gala, a benefit for the Alzheimer's Association, is held annually in Chicago and New York City. The program was founded in 1985 by Princess Yasmin Aga Khan, in honor of her mother. She is the hostess for the events and is a major sponsor of Alzheimer's disease charities and awareness programs. As of August 2017, a total of more than $72 million had been raised through events in Chicago, New York, and Palm Beach, Florida.

On October 17, 2016, a press release from the Springer Associates Public Relations Agency announced that Rita Hayworth's former manager and friend, Budd Burton Moss, initiated a campaign to solicit the United States Postal Service to issue a commemorative stamp featuring Hayworth. Springer Associates also announced that the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences would be lobbied in hopes of having an honorary Academy Award issued in memory of Hayworth. The press release added that Hayworth's daughter, Princess Yasmin Aga Khan, the Alzheimer's Association of Greater Los Angeles, and numerous prominent personalities of stage and screen were supporting the Moss campaign. The press release stated the target date for fulfillment of the stamp and Academy Award to be on October 17, 2018, the centennial of Hayworth's birth.

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[scotianostra]

On June 22nd 1680, exactly on year after The Battle of Bothwell Bridge, we saw Sanquhar Declaration.

Sanquhar, situated in the northwestern part of the county of Dumfriesshire is, from the casual observer, yet another town on the busy A76 commuter route to Kilmarnock. However, if the time is taken to stop and to stretch ones legs, you can find a wealth of history.

Half way along the High Street, just elevated above the road is a monument called the Cameron Monument as seen in the picture.

The grey granite memorial was erected in 1860 on a site not far from it’s present location, marking the the site of the original market cross of Sanquhar.

On the 22nd June 1680, Rev. Richard Cameron and his followers rode on horseback into the town and affixed to the cross their declaration disowning Charles II as King.

This symbolic demonstration, essentially a declaration of war, was among the first of a series of events that led to what is called the Glorious Revolution and the end of the reign of the House of Stuart.

This act of defiance resulted in the battle of Airds Moss and the death of Richard Cameron on the 20th of July 1680.

The second declaration was made at the same place almost five years later by Rev. James Renwick in 1685.

He was executed, by hanging, at the Grassmarket, Edinburgh, 17th February 1688.

The so-called Sanquhar Declaration, naturally, was viewed as an act of treason and the heads of all involved were declared forfeit to the Crown.

The pic is Cameron issuing his declaration from Heroes and Heroines of the Scottish Covenanters

So what of those involved in The Sanquhar Declaration? I pass you on to the capable, and most excellent hands of Mark Jardine, and his Book of Martyrs.

[awideplace]

Christmas gift ideas I recommend for a variety of ages:

❈ ◦••◦ ❈ ◦••◦ ❈ ◦••◦ ❈

i.

AnchoredNorthwest Candles $18.71 each; my personal favorite scents are Christmas Cottage, Fall Harvest, Boyfriend, Bookworm, Cabin Fever, and Lumberjack. Link here.

ii.

Ski Scene Paint by Numbers Canvas Art Kit - Hearth & Hand ($24.99 each). Link here.

iii.

Hinds' Feet on High Places: An Engaging Visual Journey (Visual Journey Series) Paperback – Illustrated ($13.59). Recommended for teenagers up to older adults; it is an allegorical Christian book even though it looks like a children's book for this edition. Link here.

iv.

Hudson Grace Moss Green Piano Stripe hand towels, set of 2 ($25.00). Link here.

v.

Garlic baker to make roasted garlic in the oven ($14.87). Link here.

vi.

Cambridge ESV Pitt Minion Reference Bible, Brown Goatskin ($109). This is my personal Bible I use. Link here.

vii.

Slingshot with felt balls ($15.50). Link here.

❈ ◦••◦ ❈ ◦••◦ ❈ ◦••◦ ❈

And one of my favorite gift ideas whether for a family member, close friend, etc. is simply time together over an activity, such as:

❈ Dinner at a nice, cozy place (think little local Italian restaurant)

❈ Doing a pottery class together and making each other tea/coffee mugs

❈ An overnight trip somewhere that's within 5 hours of driving time to make it feel like a quick little trip away

❈ Sending someone flowers or a green plant, always

[phykoha]

Someone tell me it's a bad idea to finish all of Moss in one night and then buy Moss: Book II and finish all of that in one sitting too-

[thoughtlessarse]

My father was 1 year old when, on May 10, 1933, the Nazis carried out a massive book burning on Opernplatz, not far from his family’s apartment. Chief among the items the Nazis burned were the contents of the vast archive of the Institut für Sexualwissenschaft (the Institute for Sexual Science), which was at the time the world’s most extensive collection of research in queer theory. According to the German American historian George L. Mosse, the institute’s Jewish director, Magnus Hirschfeld, “became a constant target of attack” after the book burning: “His own name and that of the Institute for Sexual science…which he founded in 1919, were used as metaphors for sexual perversion, symbols of the threat to bourgeois respectability posed by Weimar Berlin.” The Nazis not only targeted Jewish intellectuals who studied queer perspectives but also sought to eliminate any suggestion that queer life was or could be normal. To do this, they would need to do more than terrorize figures like Hirschfeld—they would need to completely remake the country’s education system. One way that the Nazis worked toward this goal was by encouraging the public to draw a connection between overly permissive educational practices and what they saw as “sexual perversion.” During the Weimar era, a small number of German educators had undertaken progressive and experimental reforms, lending students more agency in classrooms, eliminating corporal punishment, and adapting their schools to focus on “individual development, social interaction, and educating students for practical reality”—in other words, training them for participation in civic and democratic life. These reforms were a reaction to the conservative nationalist educational model of pre–World War I Germany, which had been designed principally to support German military conquest under Kaiser Wilhem II, which was still dominant in the Weimar era. Nevertheless, the Nazis saw even these incremental reforms as an affront and trained their propaganda machine on the country’s education system, seeking to make it even more militaristic and supportive of their nationalist aims. Their campaign of demonization linked progressive educational reforms not only to sexual perversion but also to Marxism, to draw together traditional social conservatives and wealthy business elites in a coalition against democracy and its institutions. Educational matters were not a fleeting or insignificant area of focus within Nazi politics. The professed goal of Nazi educational policy was to defend the nation’s children from obscenity and “Marxism,” but in the Nazi imagination this task was inextricably bound up in a broader narrative of national victimhood that had lingered across much of the population ever since the 1919 Treaty of Versailles, which brought World War I to an end by confiscating about 10 percent of Germany’s territory and forcing it to pay reparations. The aim of the Nazi education system—to transform the country’s young people into committed ideologues—was a natural extension of Germany’s pre–World War I educational model, which had focused on militarism and German supremacy. Adding Nazi educational practices and ideas to an education system with already strong antidemocratic elements produced an army of Germans willing to die for the fatherland. What we can see from this example of Nazi Germany, and from studying other instances of fascist movements around the world, is that there are five major themes of fascist education:

continue reading

[ratwavegamehouse]

I make a lot of playlists. I've made two for Terminal, an upcoming digital pirate action game coming to Kickstarter on July 20th (written by me, illustrated by Gormengeist, edited by Alyssa Ridley).

There's lot of different reasons I'll make a playlist. Capturing a mood, something to create a certain mood, processing feelings. I make playlists for most books I do and they're usually doing one of those others for me as well.

This post I'll share both playlists and run through one which will also work as a sneak peak at the game.

The first playlist (the Digital Pirate Action mix) is a long sprawling one that I keep adding to. It's stuff that feels like Terminal vibes, whatever that means. It's lot of alternative hip hop, dark ambient, harsh noise, some pop songs and then songs from various influences sprinkled in. There's a character in Terminal called The Hedonist, an obsolete program and pirate contact who runs a nightclub for others who've escaped deletion. I imagine the Digital Pirate Action mix as what's playing in her club.

The second playlist (Enter the Terminal) I made more recently, after a conversation on a yet-to-be-released episode of This is Your Lifepath where we talked about music. In this case it's a linear playlist where each sings maos to aspect of the book. It's less concerned with being a cohesive listening experience and more about whatever songs reminded me of different things.

Gonna do a run through of this second playlist and explain some of my thoughts, also because it's a useful way to preview the game.

Song 1 - Break the Glass by Clipping.

This is essentially a mood setter. I think of it like an opening credits song. The repeated refrane of "wake up", lines about "life binary in Morse code". I was thinking of unreality.

Song 2 - Gospel for a New Century by Yves Turner

This song I'm also thinking about breaking from the simulation.

Song 3 - A Drop of Nelson's Blood by Jarvis Cocker

I needed a sea shanty (in this case a cover of a sea shanty) to set the mood in the Wake, the real world. Long ago, before anyone can remember, the robots and humanity shattered the moon and the world flooded, reshaping landmasses. Now the pirates of Libertatia, those who've awoken from the simulation, battle the Robot Authority on the waves.

Song 4 - Road to Hell II from Hadestown

In the world of Terminal there is story of the omen, someone who emerges in each iteration of the Terminal with extraordinary power. They use this to battle the system and hope to overthrow it. They have always failed. This song choice reflects, the idea of trying again, in the hope things might turn out different this time.

Song 5 - Saint by Deaf Havana

For this song I was thinking a lot about the pressure the pirates are under. Specifically I ended up thinking about Captain Breach, the chair of the Captain's Council, who has this position at what is going to be a pivotal moment in Libertatia's history.

Song 6 - Miracle by CHVRCHES

I wanted a song to represent the character of The Seer, a program with the power of precognition, who often aids the pirates but is ultimately still a routine part of the Terminal's function and so is difficult to trust.

It was hard to find a song that really fit, and honestly this doesn't feel like it fits perfectly but I think I'm almost imagining from the perspective of a pirate wanting to feel trust.

Song 7 - I'm Beginning to Think You Prefer Beverly Hills to Me by Fight Like Apes

This was about the aforementioned Hedonist. An upbeat song about firing fit their attitude to being declared obsolete. She intends to dance to the night away until the curtain falls, rather than fighting back.

The Hedonist's starting point of inspiration was the character of the Merovingian from the Matrix sequels. Her role in the world ended up drawing from Carrie Ann Moss's character in Mass Effect 2. They also, in my interpretation of them, ended up having some Jareth the Goblin King vibes. She's one of the NPCs I end up thinking about a lot.

Song 8 - Not in This World by Kids in Glass Houses

A campaign of Terminal begins with the startup operation Run, Atalanta, Run, a scenario designed to introduce players to how the game plays and the world as a whole as well as sparking the overall campaign. It involves your crew trying to help free a restless sleeper known as Atalanta. It's the thing in the book thats going for the plot of the first Matrix film the most.

I was thinking of the character Atalanta with this song choice. The lyrics "Don't wanna see, I want an ocean, and all of the madness, so give me your worst" feels very them.

Song 9 - Heel Turn 2 by The Mountain Goats

The major scenario arcs in Terminal are called Crashes, and each could escalate to the point of being the games finale. I picked a song for each crash.

Heel Turn 2 is for Curations of The Archivist. The crew faces of again an obsolete program who's former role involved cataloging everything important in an iteration. Now they turn to capturing and freezing everything they find value in, eventually threatening to cause enough instalibity to kill everyone in the system.

Heel Turn 2 felt appreciate for this bitter character lashing out.

Song 10 - Zero Zero by Gerard Way

The Crash Multiplied by 0 involves faxing off against the titular 0, a former special agent turned living virus who threatens to assimilate the entire Terminal (their analog should be fairly obvious to anyone who's seen the Matrix films).

This was an on the nose song choice but the refrain of "Call me zero you are zero" is pretty perfect for the way they assimilate others.

Song 11 - Frankenstein by Rina Sawayama

Corruptions of The Passenger involves facing a new plot by the Robot Authority, involving a program who can hack into pirates mind and leave bots that take over. The first known hacked pirates is Orpheus, appropriately named for their failure to avoid looming back.

I love the album Hold the Girl so much. I think this placement here is almost imagining this as from Orpheus to The Passenger.

Song 12 - The World We Knew from Sayonara Wild Hearts

The Dying Dream is where a lot of the games Paprika influence is. The crew venture into a firewalled off domain where nightmares have begun to bleed from the mind of a dying sleeper. Much of the dreams fixate on the fears and regrets of the sleeper which led to me picking this song from Sayanora Wild Hearts.

Song 13 - Born to Lose by Jenny Owen Youngs

The Twin Peaks influence I may have mentioned before is sprinkled throughout the game, sometimes in direct riffs like the character of The Arm in the Dying Dream, but also in general vibes and logic of certain places like The Seer's domain. The Crash Tortures of The Killer draws some influence from Twin Peaks and Blue Velvet, and involves The Killer, a disgusting program deployed by The Puppeteer, threatening lingering threads to the crews sleeping past.

The lyrics "Somewhere in the night, a man is standing by/With a deal you won't be able to refuse/No, you can't call him, but expect your phone to ring/And brother, you prepare yourself to/Offer up what you were born to lose" reflects the way The Puppeteer wants to blackmail the crew into doing their bidding.

Song 14 - Life on Land by Dessa

The Crash Sailor's Warning is the only Crash taking place mostly in the Wake, the real world. It involves tensions at the heart of Libertatia, and challenges the crews relationships with their pirate comrades.

Using a song called Life on Land for this Crash is partly being cutesy but also a lot of the song does feel like it drives at the mindset of the central NPC Captain Wail.

(Not related to Sailor's Warning but the lines "I'm just a girl, in the body of a boy, in the belly of a whale" also really brought to mind transness in Terminal specifically.)

Song 15 - Volunteer DJ by Fishboy

[ERROR//PERMISSION DENIED//OPERATION ENCRYPTED//ALTER EGO CONTROLS REQUIRED]

Ok so I won't say what this song relates to textually, but thematically I was thinking about the last and what gets left behind.

Song 16 - Black Wave by K.flay

So as mentioned before any of the Crashes can become the games finale, the Total System Crash, where as well as defeating the central threat you'll determine the fate of Libertatia and this iteration of the Terminal. This song fits for facing something as immense as the fate of two worlds and also musically fits for like a final montage as you prepare for the last showdown.

Song 17 - There is a Place for You Here by Left at London

Figured the last song on this playlist is almost like an end credits song for the book. The lyrics remind me of some of the more emotional and subtextual themes of the game.

Like I said, less musically cohesive then the other playlist, like very much made up of songs I listened to a lot that I linked to different things. Probably also influenced by my mood when I made it, which was kinda depressed over some personal life things. It's got a more melancholy tone then the playlist I made have made a week before or a week after.

Anyway so that's two playlists about Terminal, which as a reminder is coming to Kickstarter on July 20th. Please follow the pre-launch at terminal.ratwave.uk and back when we go live!

[hawkeshep]

OCs as Poisonous Plants

rules: create a look-book for one (or more) of your ocs using this meiker and then take this uquiz and share their results.

I was tagged by @thefathersbride (thank you!) Tagging without pressure: @moss-flesh @lark-of-mirkwood @elvhendreamer @not-so-blue and anyone seeing this who wants to do it! Please tag me in it ❤️‍🔥 P.s.: ​if you don’t want me to tag you in these things, or alternatively if you do want to be tagged please let me know, I won’t mind! 💜

🩸Iris Hawke (DA II: Act 1, 2 & 3)

Lily of the Valley

This is the poison of giving too much. You feel yourself emptying out, dizzying, discoloring-- until you fear you will fade entirely and wither away. You have always had to give. You never had a choice before. They pluck your flowers for their beauty, they trample your leaves carelessly, they pull out your roots by the fistful and berate you for daring to grow. And now that you have a grove to spread out in, your rhizomes tangle and curl in on themselves. When cruelty is all you've ever known, thriving seems impossible. But the answer is not to make yourself small and offer every lovely thing you are to the world in the hopes it will have mercy on you. The answer is to let yourself dare to thrive for thriving's sake, to grow in the wild ways you wish to-- and to do that for vourself for once.

[theinstagrahame]

Time again for the Crowdfunding Haul post!

(And I guess another amateurish product photo shoot)

This one's feels slightly different because this is all stuff I pre-ordered, crowdfunded, or otherwise got prior to being laid off at the end of June (so it'd be real nice if people bought some games from me). Coincidentally a dozen or so of them happened to come to completion around June-July of 2023, some of them.

Here's what came in: Top row: Monster of the Week: Codex of Worlds, Runecairn Bestiary, CBR+PNK, Miru and Miru II (or MIIRU)

Middle row: Ritual: A Folk Horror Game, Plant Girl Game, and A Dungeon Game

Bottom row: Sleeping Heart of the Garden, Hard Wired Island: Tales from L5, Broken Heart of the Castle, the Moss Mother's Maze (for a Dungeon Game), and Null

Why I'm hyped for these:

Monster of the Week: Codex of Worlds: MotW is a hugely influential game, but also it is a lot of fun. So it's really hard to pass up an expansion. I've also been noticing a trend of bringing Forged in the Dark-style group sheets to PbtA games, which I think is an interesting one.

Runecairn Bestiary: Who doesn't love a good monster manual? Runecairn is a beautiful game, and the marketing for the bestiary supplement worked on me. Incredible art, stats for monsters. One of the things I've felt is missing from some solo games is a good sense of monsters you can encounter, and this fills that gap nicely.

Miru and Miru II: I was intrigued by Miru and picked up a copy on Itch. I haven't read it yet, but the premise and the art definitely grabbed me. I was a little sad that I'd missed the initial print run, so when there was a crowdfunder for a reprint *and* a sequel, how could I not?

Ritual: A Folk Horror Game: World Champ Game Co is one of several Indie designers that never miss. It also comes with a small deck of ritual cards with really visceral and cool images that I think adds a ton to the game. That said, I am also a huge sucker for limited edition print runs... So when I saw there may only be a handful of these available, well, I jumped.

Plant Girl Game: I learned about this one on @partyofonepod, and was so intrigued by the game, and the creator, and the world that it proposed that I had to know more. It's a game focused on family, on community, and on peaceful resolutions to small-town problems. So it's definitely an odd one out on this list, but the ways in which it's different are also one of the reasons I so love TTRPGs.

A Dungeon Game and the Moss Mother's Maze: I followed the evolution of Bissette's A Dragon Game into A Dungeon Game on Twitter, from shitpost to full-fledged game. It was really fun to watch, and to skim the Designer's Commentary on the original ADG. So, when I heard there'd be an adventure module (aaaand again a limited print run for the main game...) I leapt on it as fast as my email could carry me.

Sleeping Heart of the Garden and Broken Heart of the Castle: I've followed a few of the creators involved in this project on Twitter for a while, and generally was intrigued to see what they could do with a system-agnostic adventure. I was surprised by the size when they arrived, because you get to expect the half-page zine format. But I think these books are beautiful and I can't wait to explore them.

Hard Wired Island: Tales from L5: HWI is a stunning piece of TTRPG content, and I've been wanting to dig into the world further. So, a collection of short adventures? Hell yeah! It even came with a really catchy little soundtrack, the final track for which I think about all the time when considering Cyberpunk content...

Null: Everything Spencer Campbell puts out just shreds. I did nearly sleep on Null, but I was intrigued by the recent trend of Play-to-Lose games that I've seen coming out lately. There is something kind of powerful about going into a game knowing your character won't come out, which I think allows you to make different decisions. I was interested to see where this game fit into Campbell's catalog, as well as into my own play style.

CBR+PNK: Been getting into Forged in the Dark stuff lately. I also nearly let this one pass me by, when I'd heard that it was aimed at one-shot games. But, I was still intrigued to see what could be done with Cyberpunk in the FitD framework (and besides, maybe there's a way an enterprising designer could campaigns in there...). I was glad I picked it up, because I started playing games with some friends over Discord, and I was able to pitch this. We've been enjoying it. It's even serving really well as a prequel to the Beam Saber campaign we're planning (Also really convenient that it arrived before we finished the one-shot). Besides, the physical edition did turn out really nicely:

Bonus game-related stuff:

I picked up Inhuman Conditions (right) because I'd heard it on Friends at the Table. It seems like an extremely fun game, but also the Sangfielle campaign episode(s) where they play it are ones that I think about a lot. Also, one of the things I love about FatT is their ability to wield the power of play to do incredibly powerful things.

The Tears of the Kingdom Strategy Guide I kinda wanted less because I was stuck or wanted tips on playing TotK, but because the bundle I got for my Switch and Breath of the Wild came with one, and I kinda wanted to put both on the shelf. Zelda has been one of those series that I've always had throughout my life, so I've got a lot of emotional investment. The two strategy guides are beautiful, and I will probably end up skimming through it when I've gotten through the main game.