#This is a love letter to both characters they both rock and you should love them both

[windona]

It turns out I really love any black female character who comes from a warrior family whose compassion makes her more militaristic mother disappointed/appear disappointed in her despite also truly loving her.

[amethystarachnid]

MUTANT BODYGUARD - part I

⤷ JAMES LOGAN HOWLETT

ᯓ★ Pairing: James Logan Howlett x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: fluff and spicy (I mean, it's Logan...)

ᯓ★ Story type: short story

ᯓ★Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

ᯓ★ Word count: 6k

ᯓ★ TW(s): Reader has stalkers and crazy fans, said stalker gets inside reader's apartment and Logan uses his claws on him

ᯓ★ Timeline: doesn't follow a timeline in the x-men movies, just...maybe before days of future past?

ᯓ★ Request: not requested

ᯓ★ From: Marvel Bingo, Bodyguard romance x Age Gap

ᯓ★ Comment if you want to be added to the taglist (specify if you want the everything taglist or for a specific character)

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo (requests open)

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ If you are a Charles Xavier lover click on this link!

ᯓ★ English isn't my first language and this isn’t proof read

You’ve always hated the idea of needing a bodyguard. It feels ridiculous, like some over-the-top celebrity diva move. But ever since your career skyrocketed, the tabloids won’t leave you alone. A role in a blockbuster film, a few chart-topping singles, and suddenly everyone wants a piece of you. The constant media frenzy, the “fans” who somehow know where you live, the paparazzi camping outside your apartment—it’s become too much. When the threatening letters started showing up, your manager insisted on hiring a bodyguard.

You rolled your eyes, argued, but eventually caved. You love your career, but you’re not an idiot. You know when things get dangerous.

So, here you are, pacing back and forth in your living room, waiting for the “best in the business” to show up. The guy your manager picked. No name, no details, just a reputation for getting the job done. Whatever that means.

You stop mid-step when the door opens. In walks a man who looks like he’s seen and survived more wars than any human being should. His hair is a wild mess, and the dark scruff on his face gives him a rugged, almost dangerous look. He’s tall, broad-shouldered, and built like someone who could easily break someone in half with his bare hands. He’s wearing a leather jacket, the sleeves pushed up just enough to reveal thick forearms that have clearly seen some action.

You blink, not expecting…well, this.

“You’re the bodyguard?” you ask, eyes sweeping over him. You were expecting someone in a suit, maybe with an earpiece and sunglasses. Not…a lumberjack biker.

He glances at you with piercing, slightly narrowed eyes. “Logan. And yeah, I’m your bodyguard, sweetheart.”

You cross your arms, trying to regain some semblance of control. “Don’t call me sweetheart.”

He gives a half-smirk, the kind that’s both infuriating and somehow annoyingly attractive. “Noted.”

There’s an awkward pause as he looks you up and down, assessing you in a way that makes you want to shrink under his gaze. “So, what’s the deal? You a princess or somethin’? 'Cause I gotta say, this gig doesn’t exactly scream 'royalty.'”

“I’m an actress, actually,” you respond with a touch of sarcasm. “Maybe you’ve heard of me.”

Logan’s unimpressed. He shrugs, clearly not the type to follow pop culture. “Nope.”

You’re not sure whether to be offended or relieved. On one hand, it’s nice not to be recognized. On the other hand, what rock has this guy been living under? You’re practically everywhere these days.

“You can Google me later,” you say, waving a hand dismissively. “I guess I’ll just assume you’re qualified.”

“More than qualified,” he growls, his voice deep and gravelly, like it’s been dragged across the pavement. “I don’t do babysitting, but your manager was…insistent. Apparently, someone out there’s got a real interest in makin’ sure you don’t stick around long enough for the next season of whatever-you’re-in.”

You narrow your eyes at him, irritated by his attitude. “Well, lucky me, right? Having you around means I’ll definitely survive to make another movie.”

He smirks again, this time with more of an edge. “Keep that attitude up, and I’ll have you wishing they got to you first.”

You snort, because as gruff as he is, you’re not intimidated. “I bet you’re a real hit at parties.”

“I don’t do parties.”

“Shocking,” you deadpan, unable to stop yourself from throwing in a bit of sass.

Logan’s eyebrow twitches, but he seems more amused than annoyed by your attitude. “You’re gonna be a pain in the ass, aren’t you?”

“Only if you deserve it,” you quip, sitting down on your couch and crossing your legs. “So, how does this work? Do you stand in the corner looking all broody while I go about my life? Or are you planning on following me everywhere like a lost puppy?”

He scoffs, taking off his jacket and tossing it over the back of a chair. “You wish. I’m not here to play lapdog. I’m here to make sure no one tries to kill you. If that means following you around and making sure you don’t get yourself into more trouble than you’re worth, so be it.”

“Comforting,” you say dryly. “It’s nice to know you think I’m worth saving.”

Logan pauses, eyes locking with yours, and for a second, the air between you shifts. His gaze softens just a fraction, enough that you almost forget the gruff exterior. Almost.

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t think you were,” he says, his tone quieter but no less intense.

You blink, caught off guard by the sincerity. “Well…thanks, I guess.”

He shrugs, like it’s no big deal. Then he glances around your apartment. “You got security cameras?”

“Uh, yeah. Around the building,” you say, still trying to shake off the weird tension between you two.

“Good. I’ll check the perimeter. You stay put,” he orders, turning to leave.

“Oh, sure, yeah, I’ll just sit here quietly while my life’s in danger,” you call after him, sarcasm dripping from every word. “Don’t worry about me.”

Logan stops at the door and looks over his shoulder with that damn smirk again. “I won’t.”

As he walks out, you can’t help but shake your head. This is going to be a long job.

The first couple of days with Logan are…interesting, to say the least. He’s always there, a constant shadow, but he’s not the hovering type. He gives you space, but you can feel his presence in the room, always alert, always watching. And the banter—well, that hasn’t stopped.

“You think you could maybe try not to look like you hate being here?” you ask one morning as you head out for a meeting with your agent.

Logan’s leaning against the wall, arms crossed, that signature scowl on his face. “This is my happy face.”

“Really? Because it looks a lot like your ‘I want to punch someone in the throat’ face.”

He chuckles, the sound low and rumbling. “That’s pretty much the same face.”

You sigh dramatically, brushing past him. “Well, you’re really selling the ‘friendly bodyguard’ vibe.”

“Good thing I’m not here to be friendly,” he shoots back, falling into step beside you.

“Right. You’re just here to make sure I don’t die.”

“Exactly.”

You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, unable to stop yourself from smiling. “You’re having fun with this, aren’t you?”

He shrugs, but you catch the hint of a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Maybe a little.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

Logan looks at you, his expression softening just slightly. “Yeah, but I’m growing on you.”

“Debatable.”

But as you both walk out into the chaos of cameras, fans, and flashing lights, you realize he might be right.

The next few days pass in a blur of meetings, interviews, and public appearances. With Logan by your side, everything is under control. He’s always there—solid, unflinching, and frustratingly good at his job. You don’t feel a single ounce of fear when he’s around, but you do feel something else, something that keeps tightening between you two like a stretched wire.

It’s impossible not to notice how Logan moves, how his muscles flex under that leather jacket when he’s surveying a crowd, the quiet, simmering power in his stance. And then there are the looks. God, the looks he gives you. It’s subtle, but whenever you catch his eye, there’s this electric charge, a tension that wraps itself around you both, even if no one else in the room can feel it.

You don’t acknowledge it, though. At least, not out loud. It’s ridiculous. He’s older—way older—and this is supposed to be professional. You’re not some starry-eyed girl who’s going to fall for her bodyguard just because he’s dangerous and good-looking.

Right?

At least, that’s what you keep telling yourself. But the more time you spend with him, the harder it is to ignore. He’s just so there, so…Logan.

The rumors don’t help either.

It starts with a photo—just one. The paparazzi manage to catch Logan opening your car door, his hand on the small of your back as you slip inside. It’s a simple, professional gesture, but in the world of tabloids, it’s something else entirely. Within hours, the internet is flooded with headlines: Mysterious Man Seen With Actress Y/N! New Bodyguard or New Romance?

You laugh it off at first, but the rumors snowball. Suddenly, every gossip site is buzzing with theories. Logan’s too attractive to just be a bodyguard, they say. You’re spending too much time together. There are whispers about the age gap, about the “forbidden attraction.” Some tabloids get more imaginative—Logan: The Bad Boy Who Stole Y/N’s Heart? or Secret Fling with Older Bodyguard? Inside the Dangerous Romance.

“I can’t believe people are actually buying this,” you mutter, scrolling through a particularly ridiculous article.

Logan’s lounging on your couch, reading through a security report. He doesn’t even look up when he responds. “You’re famous. People’ll believe anything.”

“Yeah, but this?” You wave your phone at him, exasperated. “Secret romance? Seriously?”

Finally, he glances up, his expression unreadable. “You worried about it?”

You snort. “No. It’s just insane. People will say anything for clicks.”

Logan’s silent for a moment, his gaze lingering on you a beat longer than necessary. “It’s not that crazy, y’know.”

You freeze, your heart doing a weird little flip. “What’s not?”

He smirks, just a touch of amusement in his eyes. “You. Me. The rumors.”

Your mouth goes dry. “I—what?”

He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “People see what they wanna see, darlin’. You’re young, successful, in the spotlight. They think you’re gonna fall for the first guy that gives you a little danger, a little excitement.”

You narrow your eyes, heat prickling at your skin. “And you think you give me that?”

Logan’s smirk widens, slow and deliberate, like he knows exactly what kind of effect he has on you. “Don’t I?”

Your stomach twists in response. There’s no denying it—there’s something between you two, something you’ve been ignoring for days. Weeks, maybe. But hearing him say it, so casually, like it’s a fact you both already know, sends a rush of heat straight through you.

“Logan,” you start, trying to regain some control, “there’s nothing—”

“Yeah? You sure about that?” His voice is low, and suddenly the space between you feels smaller, like the room’s shrinking, the air thickening. He’s not even touching you, but it feels like he is, the weight of his presence pushing against every nerve in your body.

You swallow hard. “We—there’s an age gap.”

He chuckles darkly. “Yeah, there is. Doesn’t seem to stop ‘em from talkin’, does it?”

“No, but—” You stop, frustrated, because what’s your argument here? That you’re not attracted to him? That you don’t spend half your nights thinking about what it would be like if he wasn’t just your bodyguard?

Logan stands, slowly, and you have to tilt your head up to keep eye contact. His sheer size makes the room feel smaller, more intimate. He moves closer, and your breath catches in your throat as he stops just in front of you.

“Thing is, people are gonna talk,” he says, voice a low rumble that sends a shiver down your spine. “Doesn’t matter what we do or don’t do. So, the way I see it, you got two choices. You keep fightin’ what’s happenin’, or…”

He pauses, his eyes dropping to your lips before slowly moving back up to meet your gaze.

“…you see where this goes.”

Your heart hammers in your chest. There’s no more pretending, no more banter to hide behind. The air is thick with everything you’ve been avoiding—the attraction, the tension, the unspoken desire that’s been crackling between you both since the moment you met.

You take a shaky breath, trying to think through the haze of want clouding your mind. “Logan, this is—this is complicated. We can’t just—”

“Why not?” His voice is rough, raw, like he’s barely holding himself back. “You’re not some kid. You know what you want. So do I.”

There’s a dangerous edge to his words, something primal that sends another surge of heat through you. You can feel the weight of his gaze, the intensity that makes it hard to breathe, let alone think straight.

You try to hold on to logic, to the rational part of your brain that’s screaming at you to slow down. But when you meet his eyes, all dark and stormy, your resolve crumbles.

“Tell me you don’t feel it,” Logan murmurs, his voice so low it’s barely a whisper. His hand moves, just a fraction, like he’s fighting the urge to reach for you, to pull you close. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. Because you can’t tell him that. You can’t say the words when your whole body is aching for something you know you shouldn’t want but can’t stop thinking about.

He steps closer, and the air between you crackles with the kind of tension that makes your skin tingle. “Last chance, sweetheart.”

Your pulse races. Every rational thought, every reason you’ve been telling yourself not to cross this line, fades into the background. All you can think about is him—his scent, his presence, the way his body radiates heat like a furnace.

“Logan…” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

That’s all it takes.

In one swift movement, he closes the distance between you, his large hands finding your waist as he pulls you against him. The world tilts, and before you can think, before you can breathe, his lips are on yours—hot, demanding, and absolutely relentless.

You gasp against his mouth, but it’s lost in the kiss, in the way he takes control, his grip firm but careful, as though he’s been holding himself back for weeks and now there’s no stopping it. He tastes like whiskey and danger, and the moment his tongue brushes against yours, your knees threaten to give out.

You don’t even realize your hands are in his hair until you’re pulling him closer, pressing against him as if you can’t get enough. The kiss is rough, intense, filled with every ounce of pent-up tension you’ve both been ignoring.

When he finally pulls back, both of you are breathing hard. His forehead rests against yours, his breath warm against your lips. “Still think it’s just rumors?” he growls, voice ragged.

You can’t speak. You just shake your head, fingers still tangled in his hair, your body flush against his.

Logan smirks, his thumb brushing against your hip. “Thought so.”

Just as you start to lose yourself in the heat of Logan’s kiss, a sharp, sudden beep cuts through the haze. It takes a second to register, but when you pull back slightly, you see Logan’s face shift—his entire body going rigid. His phone is vibrating in his jacket pocket.

The change in him is immediate. The heat, the softness, all of it hardens into something sharp and dangerous. He pulls away from you, grabbing his phone with a quick, practiced movement. You don’t get a chance to ask what’s happening because his jaw clenches, eyes narrowing at the screen.

"Shit," he mutters, already moving toward the door.

“What’s going on?” You ask, heart still racing from a mix of adrenaline and confusion.

Logan’s whole demeanor has shifted into something colder, sharper—his focus laser-like. "Someone’s inside the building."

Your stomach drops. "What? How? Shouldn’t the security downstairs—"

"They got past it," he interrupts, throwing on his jacket in one fluid motion. His eyes are darker now, more alert, and it sends a chill down your spine. "Stay here."

Before you can protest, he’s out the door. But the idea of staying still, alone, in a situation like this? No chance. You grab your phone and follow him, keeping a few paces behind as he stalks through the hall, every movement precise, calculated.

He barely glances back at you, his body a wall of tension, like he’s ready to explode into action at any second. "I told you to stay back, Y/N," he growls under his breath, his voice low and urgent.

"And I don’t take orders," you snap back, even though you’re trembling inside. The hallway feels too quiet, too still.

Before Logan can argue, you both hear it—heavy footsteps, coming from the stairwell. Your heart skips a beat. You weren’t prepared for this kind of fear. Sure, the letters had freaked you out, but this? Someone actually in the building, hunting you?

Logan moves so fast you barely see it, pushing you behind him as the door to the stairwell creaks open. The figure that steps out is shadowy at first, but as the light hits him, you see a man—unshaven, wild-eyed, and holding a small knife that glints in the dim light. He’s muttering something under his breath, eyes locked on you.

"There you are," the man breathes, voice unnervingly soft. "I’ve been waiting for this moment."

Before you can react, Logan steps forward, his body a barrier between you and the man. "Back off," he warns, his voice so low it rumbles in his chest.

The stalker’s eyes flick to Logan, sizing him up, but instead of retreating, he grins. "You think you can stop me? I’ve been planning this for months."

You feel your skin crawl, bile rising in your throat. But Logan is a wall of calm fury. Without a word, he lunges at the man, moving so fast you barely register the impact. Logan’s fist connects with the guy’s jaw, sending him stumbling back into the wall with a sickening thud.

It should have ended there. Any normal man would have been down for the count. But the stalker scrambles to his feet, eyes wide with manic determination, swinging the knife wildly.

You gasp as the blade slashes through the air, missing Logan by inches. But he’s not rattled. He ducks, then pivots with a speed and grace that shouldn’t be possible for someone his size. And then, with a growl that sounds more animal than human, Logan throws the stalker against the wall, pinning him there.

The man struggles, trying to bring the knife up again. But then, something happens—something that makes your breath catch in your throat.

Logan’s hand shoots forward, and suddenly there’s a metallic SNIKT. Three long, razor-sharp claws extend from between his knuckles—gleaming silver, impossibly deadly. They punch through the man’s jacket, pinning him by the shoulder to the wall.

The stalker lets out a scream, eyes wide in terror. But your own scream is stuck in your throat. All you can do is stare, your brain struggling to comprehend what you’re seeing.

Logan has claws. Metal claws.

What the hell?

With the stalker writhing in pain, Logan leans in close, his voice a low growl. "You picked the wrong damn target."

The man whimpers, his bravado completely gone as blood trickles from the shallow wound. Logan jerks the claws free, and the man collapses to the ground, groaning in pain but still breathing. Without a second glance at his attacker, Logan turns to you.

“Y/N,” he says, stepping toward you, his voice a low, rough murmur that sounds far away. “It’s not what you think—”

But you stumble back, the knife in your hand trembling, not because of the stalker lying on the floor, but because of him. Because of what you just saw.

“Y-you…what—” You can’t even get the words out, your mind scrambling to make sense of what just happened. “What are you?”

Logan’s face tightens. He’s clearly seen this reaction before. “I’m a mutant,” he says quietly, the calmness in his voice almost unnerving given what just went down. “I didn’t want you to find out like this, but—”

“I—” You take another step back, your heart still racing. “Mutant? Logan, you—what the hell did you just—” Your eyes drop to his hands, where the claws retracted just moments ago. “You have claws?”

Logan doesn’t move, his hands by his sides, still covered in a few drops of the intruder’s blood. His whole body looks tense, as though he’s bracing himself for whatever comes next. “I know what you’re thinking,” he says, his voice low and steady. “But I’m not gonna hurt you. I’d never—”

“You—” You’re shaking your head, not even sure what you’re trying to say. Everything’s too much. You’ve only ever heard horror stories about mutants, about how dangerous they can be, how you should keep your distance. You’ve never known anyone who was one…until now.

And it’s Logan. The guy who’s been protecting you.

The guy who just kissed you.

“I need…I need some space,” you manage, your voice barely a whisper, your mind still reeling.

Logan’s expression shifts, a flicker of something that looks almost like regret crossing his face. But he nods, stepping back slowly. “I get it,” he says, his voice rough. “You’re scared. But I’m still the same guy I was five minutes ago. I’m not the enemy, Y/N.”

You know that. Deep down, in some part of yourself, you know that Logan wouldn’t hurt you. He’s saved your life, protected you, and been nothing but loyal. But right now, your instincts are screaming at you to get away, to process what the hell just happened.

“I just…please, I need to be alone,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around yourself.

Logan’s jaw tightens, and for a moment, he looks like he’s going to say something. But then he nods once, giving you space, just like you asked. “I’ll be close,” he says quietly, before turning and walking away, leaving you alone in the hallway with your racing thoughts.

As he disappears around the corner, you lean back against the wall, your knees threatening to give out. You’re not sure what scares you more, the stalker lying unconscious on the floor, or the realization that Logan isn’t just a man with a bad attitude and a dangerous past.

He’s something else entirely.

And you have no idea what that means for you both.

The next day is a whirlwind of confusion and conflicting emotions. You wake up to the soft light filtering through the curtains, but instead of feeling rested, your heart pounds in your chest, and the events of the previous day come flooding back. Logan’s claws, the way he fought off that intruder, the raw power he displayed—it all feels surreal.

You spend the morning trying to distract yourself, throwing yourself into your usual routine. You have interviews lined up and a photoshoot to get through, but every moment, you can’t shake the image of Logan standing over that intruder, the fierceness in his eyes as he retracted those deadly claws. There’s a knot in your stomach, a strange mix of fear and something else you can’t quite place.

Despite your attempts at normalcy, you’re acutely aware of the absence of Logan. He hasn’t checked in, hasn’t texted, and that silence weighs heavily on you. You told him you needed space, but now, part of you wonders if you made a mistake pushing him away.

As the afternoon stretches on, you finish your last interview and head back to your apartment, an unshakable sense of anticipation coursing through you. The place feels different without Logan’s presence, quieter, more hollow. You take a deep breath, trying to steel yourself for whatever comes next.

The door swings open, and you step inside. The scent of leather and Logan’s cologne still lingers in the air, sending a shiver down your spine. You glance around, half-hoping to see him leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed, that trademark smirk on his lips. But the space is empty.

You walk into the living room, the tension from the previous day still hanging in the air. You’re about to pour yourself a glass of water when a knock on the door startles you. You freeze, heartbeat quickening as you glance at the clock. It’s late, too late for anyone else to drop by.

You approach the door cautiously and open it, your breath catching in your throat as you see Logan standing there, his presence filling the doorway. He looks as imposing as ever, dressed in a black t-shirt that hugs his torso, the leather jacket thrown over one shoulder. His hair is tousled, and there’s a shadow of stubble on his jaw that somehow makes him look even more rugged.

“Hey,” he says, voice low and a touch uncertain.

“Hey,” you manage, heart racing. The tension between you two feels palpable, and you can’t ignore the rush of warmth spreading through your body at the sight of him.

“Can I come in?” he asks, his expression serious, but there’s an underlying urgency that makes your stomach flip.

“Of course,” you reply, stepping aside to let him in. He walks past you, the warmth of his body brushing against yours, sending a rush of heat through your veins.

Logan turns to face you, his expression shifting, revealing the storm brewing behind his eyes. “I wanted to talk. About yesterday.”

“Okay,” you say, feeling suddenly shy under his intense gaze. “I mean…you didn’t have to come over.”

“I wanted to,” he says, his voice dropping lower, almost a growl. “I’ve been thinking about you, and I… I didn’t like how we left things.”

The way he looks at you makes your heart race. There’s a vulnerability in his expression, a longing that mirrors the tumult inside you. But there’s something else too—something electric.

“I was scared, Logan,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “Everything just happened so fast. I didn’t know—”

“I know.” He steps closer, closing the distance between you, the heat radiating off him wrapping around you like a thick blanket. “But I’m still me. I’d never hurt you.”

You search his eyes, looking for any hint of deception, but all you see is sincerity mixed with an undeniable hunger.

“I just… I don’t know what to do with all of this.” You gesture between the two of you, feeling the weight of unspoken words and unresolved feelings hanging heavy in the air.

Logan takes another step closer, his voice a rough murmur. “What do you want?”

Your breath hitches. The question hangs in the air, charged and raw, and for the first time, you allow yourself to confront the truth of your feelings. “I want—”

Before you can finish, he closes the distance between you, capturing your lips with his in a kiss that ignites the fire simmering beneath your skin. It’s not the same as before; it’s deeper, more urgent, filled with the need to reclaim what was almost lost.

You melt against him, your hands finding their way to his hair, pulling him closer as he deepens the kiss. Logan’s hands roam your sides, fingers skimming over your hips, drawing you nearer as if he’s trying to memorize every inch of you.

When he pulls back, his breath mingles with yours, and the intensity of his gaze makes your heart race. “You want this,” he says, voice low and rough, as if he’s trying to convince himself as much as you. “You want me.”

“I do,” you admit, your cheeks flushing as the words spill out. “But it’s complicated, Logan. We shouldn’t—”

“Who cares?” His fingers slide down your arms, sending shivers down your spine. “You’re not just some celebrity to me. You’re not just a job.”

“What do you mean?” Your voice is a whisper, the intensity of his gaze holding you captive.

“I mean you’re you. I don’t care what the tabloids say. I don’t care about the age difference or the rumors. I want you.”

His words send a thrill through you, igniting a spark of something wild and reckless. You’ve never felt this way before, not like this. It’s heady, intoxicating.

“Logan, what if—”

He cuts you off with another kiss, more demanding this time, as if he’s trying to erase every doubt from your mind. His hands find their way to your waist, pulling you flush against him, and you can feel every muscle in his body, the heat radiating off him in waves.

And then it happens again—the sharp, undeniable rush of want overwhelms you. The world outside fades away, and all that matters is this moment, this connection, this man standing before you.

When you finally pull away, both of you are breathless. “This is crazy,” you say, your mind racing, but the way Logan looks at you silences your doubts.

“Maybe,” he replies, his voice low and gravelly. “But I’d rather be crazy with you than without you.”

Your heart flips, and suddenly the space between you feels impossibly small. You’ve never wanted someone like this before, and the thought sends a thrill of excitement through you.

“Then what do we do?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper, heart racing at the thought of what lies ahead.

Logan smirks, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I think we start by not overthinking this.” He leans in, brushing his lips against your cheek, igniting a fire in your core. “And maybe just…enjoying each other.”

His lips trail down to your neck, kissing a path that makes your head spin. You lean into him, surrendering to the moment as his warm breath sends shivers down your spine. The world outside is forgotten, and it feels like you’ve stepped into a realm that’s just yours and his.

“Logan…” you breathe, fingers tangling in his hair as you pull him closer, desire flooding your senses.

His lips brush against yours again, teasing, playful, igniting the tension that’s been building between you two. “Just trust me,” he murmurs, his voice low and sultry. “I promise I won’t bite…unless you want me to.”

A breathless laugh escapes you, and the air crackles with undeniable tension. Maybe this is crazy, but right now, with Logan’s warmth enveloping you and the world outside forgotten, it feels more than right. It feels like fate.

Days turn into weeks, and you and Logan become a fixture in each other's lives. What began as a chaotic bodyguard relationship slowly evolves into something far more intimate—something neither of you anticipated but both desperately needed.

You find yourself falling into a routine, one that feels both exhilarating and terrifying. Every morning, he’s there, often making breakfast—his way of saying he cares, even if he does burn the toast. Every night, you curl up on the couch with him, sharing popcorn and movies, laughter filling the spaces where tension once resided. But it’s the moments outside those walls that change everything.

You don’t keep your relationship a secret, not intentionally, anyway. You both know the world you live in—the public scrutiny, the flashing cameras, the endless rumors. But Logan doesn’t seem to care. If anything, it emboldens him, a rebellious spark igniting in his eyes whenever you’re out together.

One sunny Saturday afternoon, you find yourselves strolling through a park in downtown Los Angeles, the kind of place where everyone is too busy with their own lives to pay attention to two people in love. But as you walk hand in hand, you can’t help but notice a few heads turning.

“Logan, I think we’re being watched,” you murmur, glancing around at the passersby. The mix of curiosity and surprise is palpable, but you also feel the warmth of Logan’s hand gripping yours, reassuring and steady.

“They can look all they want,” he grins, leaning down to press a quick kiss against your temple, his stubble grazing your skin. The contact sends a thrill through you.

“You’re not worried about the tabloids?” you ask, a teasing smile on your lips.

“Let them say what they want. At least they’ll get my age wrong,” he chuckles, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Besides, you think I care about some headlines? I’m more concerned about you.”

A warmth blooms in your chest, and you can’t help but lean into him, your heart swelling with affection.

But the cameras don’t stop. That evening, as you both enjoy dinner at a trendy rooftop restaurant, the whispers and glances become more pronounced. The waitress seems to be holding back a grin as she serves you drinks, clearly recognizing Logan and you. You glance around, feeling a little exposed but also exhilarated.

“This could be the new gossip for the tabloids,” you say, rolling your eyes playfully. “‘Famous singer falls for mysterious bodyguard.’”

“Or maybe ‘Local badass finally finds a reason to smile,’” he counters, winking at you. You laugh, the sound bright and airy, and it feels good.

You both savor the evening, leaning into the playful banter and the stolen glances that carry an undeniable spark. But when the two of you leave the restaurant, a group of paparazzi suddenly swarms you, their cameras flashing like fireworks in the night.

“Y/N! Is it true you’re dating Logan Howlett?” one of them shouts, voice cutting through the air like a knife.

“Logan, how long have you two been seeing each other?” another calls, pushing closer, their cameras nearly colliding with your faces.

Logan’s grip tightens around your waist, and you can feel his tension rising. You glance at him, but he simply raises an eyebrow, an amused smirk on his lips. “Guess they’re interested, huh?”

“Yeah, interested in our personal lives,” you whisper, a mix of excitement and nervousness bubbling in your chest.

“Let them watch,” Logan says, stepping closer to you, almost as if to shield you from the chaos. “Just remember—they don’t know the half of it.”

You share a glance, and there’s a spark of understanding in his eyes. With a deep breath, you face the throng of reporters. “We’re happy together,” you say, your voice steady despite the cameras flashing around you. “That’s all that matters.”

The crowd quiets for a moment, the buzz of excitement hanging in the air. Then Logan leans down, placing a gentle kiss on your lips, and the cameras go wild. The moment feels electric, and as you pull away, you can���t help but grin.

“Wow, you’ve really got it bad, don’t you?” he teases, the playful glint in his eye returning.

“Can you blame me?” you shoot back, your heart soaring.

The reporters seem to be taken aback by the chemistry between you, the dynamic clearly more than just a simple bodyguard-client relationship. You can hear the murmurs among the crowd as you both walk past, the air buzzing with a mix of curiosity and approval.

“Do you think it’s serious?” one of them asks.

“I heard she’s been seen with him a lot,” another replies, voice laced with intrigue. “What a power couple!”

“Wonder how long they’ll last,” a third one scoffs, but you’re too high on adrenaline to let their words get to you.

As you reach your car, Logan turns to you, his face softening. “You okay?”

You nod, a burst of happiness washing over you. “More than okay.”

“Good,” he replies, smirking. “Because now you’re stuck with me. The tabloids might as well start preparing for a long-term feature.”

“Is that a challenge?” you tease, nudging him with your shoulder.

“Absolutely,” he says, pulling you closer as you both settle into the car. “Just remember, if they start digging into our lives, I’m the one with the claws.”

You burst out laughing, and as he revs the engine, the world feels like it’s finally aligning. The chaos of the paparazzi, the gossip, the rumors—they all fade away. Because in this moment, it’s just you and Logan, ready to take on whatever the world throws your way, together.

[red-viewe]

general lilia x reader thoughts 🔫 (part three 👌)

COLORED LETTERS IS FAE LANGUAGE, (tw swearing)

Part 2 part 1

"Please pay attention to me, your grace~" a young lady says as she touches Lilia seductively, before he pushes her away and walks away, rolling his eyes.

'Ew.'

"C'mon, Duke! Look alive! You're the famous general, you should enjoy the fame!" A soldier playfuly shouts, as the party gets louder and louder.

The war has finally ended after 3 years, peace taking over both sides of the war. The borders are open, and many expected years of prosperity and peace.

'3 years since I've seen them, 3 years since I've felt their warmth.' Lilia sighs, massaging his temples.

'Just a few more days until i see them.

Just a few more days....'

----

"Y/n, my love and life, please take this ring and marry m-"

"Absolutely not." You slam the door, annoyed. It's been 3 years since Lilia left, and the war ended, meaning that men and women are coming back home to see their families, some looking to start one. As a hot asf, unmarried, somewhat financially stable person, you were expected to be popular among the marriage market in both women and men.

'Dude, i did not know i had this much game.' You thought, peeking out the window to see a line of people waiting at your door. 'WTF I DON'T KNOW HALF THESE PEOPLE. IT'S LITERALLY 3 IN THE MORNING. '

Sighing, you quickly pulled out a peice of paper, writing in bold, thick letters, 'NOT ACCEPTING MARRIAGE PROPOSALS' and stuck it onto the window.

'What if he forgot about me? Should i just give up on waiting?' Fuck no. Why would you do that to lilia?

'Genuinely fuck this shit.' You sighed, going back to sleep.

-----

'Knock knock knock'

'Ugh, dude i swear, if it's another suitor I'm moving.'

You slowly walk to the door, opening the door.

"I said no more suitors! Read the god damn sign!" You say, annoyed, looking up to see a man with long, black hair with red highlights. You slam the door, and go to walk back to your room.

'Wait.' You pause to think. (For once)

Long black hair with red- OMG YOU JUST SLAMED THE DOOR ON LILIA.

You rush back to the door, now fully awake and quickly open the door.

"LIlia!" You jump to hug the fae, his eyes widened at the sudden embrace.

"Beastie! I thought you forgot who i was. How mean of you to slam the door on your love." He hugs you back, pouting and nuzzling his face into your neck with warm cheeks.

"W-we don't talk about that..." You look away, embarrassed.

"Pft, it's quite alright, my love." He pulls you in for a soft, deep kiss. "So I hear you had many suitors, hmm? Planning to marry someone who's not me?" Lilia smirks, pulling away to cup your cheek.

"I swear i can explain-"

-----

"And thats how me and your mother/father met snd fell in love." Lilia giggles at the memory, "Ahh, young love." A young silver haired boy looks at his father, now filled with questions.

"But father, but isn't y/n a human? How can they live so l"ong? Also, what happened to all the suitors? And the bar?"

"Hmm, now now, silver, that's too complicated for your young mind to understand. I shall tell you when you are of age." Lilia smiles, as he rocks the boy to sleep.

"Everytime you tell that story, Silver always ends uo falling asleep." You walk in, taking Silver from Lilia's arms to transfer him to his spiderbat bed.

"It's our love story dear, I'll tell it again and again untill the whole world knows how we fell in love."

"You're lucky I love you, you cheeky bat." You pout, giving him a soft kiss on the cheek.

"I love you too, beastie."

----

Authors notes :D

I THOUGHT I PUBLISHED THIS BEFORE GOING CAMPING IM SO SRRY

Also this is probably the end of the general lilia x read thoughts series, but I'll definitely be making more stories on other characters and lilia.

Also if you guys want side stories on this series lmk(Requests r always open btw GIMMIE UR IDEAS)

(Taggies: (SRRY IF UR TAG DIDNT WORK) @rainingdandelion @rincommittedarsin

@ayachansan @sugarkitty839 @oogly-oogly @rainbowcake1212 @kitsune25 @ninjalizards

@thi3u @nico707 @mistuna @otomyoli @syndyj @ftyaftya @secret-potion @cottage-clockwork @raaawwwr

[yelenasdiary]

Forbidden || Meet The Characters - Natasha Romanoff

No Warnings | 0.6K

Forbidden Masterlist

Hi there! I'm Natasha, Yelena's older sister. I have a place in Drybellow where I run an orphanage for young girls. I'm sure Yelena has told a little of our back story and why I have this orphanage, so I won't bother you with more details on that. 

I house 16 girls from ages 6 to 20. These girls have nowhere else to go, these are girls who have run away, girls in trouble and girls who's parents couldn't look after. I do my best; I have a small background on basic medicine, so I am able to treat them correctly when they need it. I educate them and teach them things a woman in this world should know. I'd do anything and everything for them. 

We all live together on some land, well, you'd probably call it a small ranch. We grow our own fruits and vegetables, and we have some animals. Everybody helps out and has their own chores to do before they go off and do their own thing. I don't like to make them feel like they need to work to keep a bed here, when they are ready, I help them find a job and a new home to stay at. Most girls will write and give me updates on their new chapter of life and others like to come back for a visit. 

Some of the older girls and I like to knit things like blankets and clothing for new-borns, that's one of the ways we make some money to help keep this place running. Gardening is also something we all do, the younger girls love planting anything they can find so our home is full of orange, yellow, red, and purple plants. I like to try and keep the younger ones more entertained, long walks around the small, wooded area near the ranch, walks along the coastline, painting when we get some supplies, playing in the mud, enjoying their freedom and letting to be children is important to me. 

Every single girl that comes into my care will leave with the skills they need to care for themselves, look out for themselves and make something wonderful of themselves. But enough about that, I'm sure I've just bored you with all that information. 

As for me, I like doing many things. I do a lot of reading, mostly books that teach you something. Cooking, I love to cook! I've taught the girls how to fish and sometimes when the girls go on a walk, they'll bring back a dead rabbit for me to cook. When my days aren't spent looking after the girls, I'm usually trying to keep track of where Yelena is! We have a system; she is to write to me when she's off catching outlaws and if she doesn't, I'll go looking for her. That's if I don't hear from her within two weeks. 

I don't do all of this by myself though. I have to thank Maria Hill for being such a rock through all of this. She has been with me since I told her about the idea of buying this old, broken and run down property and turn it into something beautiful. She helps with everything, looks after the girls as if they were her own, we both do. Without Maria, this place wouldn't be possible. 

Well, I won't chew your ear off any longer! Feel free to write us a little letter, we're the ranch closeted to the railway station in Drybellow! We would love to hear from you. Stay safe out there! 

~ Natasha, Maria & the Girls of Black Hill Ranch.

Taglist: @madislayyy | @riveramorylunar | @teganmiller | @kyleeservopoulos | @yelenaslyubov | @kacka84 | @lesbiarmy | @meurgen | @caporal-nino | @sl-ut | @scarletwidowblackwitch | @dogtamer415 | @mousetheorist | 

If you want to be on the taglist for this series, please see the masterlist. It's link at the top of this post.

[okkalo]

hellooooo. could you pls do a scenario of reader unintentionally hearing bllk boys singing for the first time and finding it cute? ft. rin, kaiser, isagi, reo, nagi pls. TYSM LOVELOTSSSS

hi anon! thank u for the request and i hope u enjoy

characters: rin, kaiser, isagi, reo, nagi

rin

- i want to go dad rin for this one but i won’t 😣

- jk i changed my mind.

- i feel like this is one of the only scenarios you could catch him singing

- ok so you’ve had a lot on your plate recently and rin noticed and told you to take the night to yourself and let him handle yua (ifykyk;))

- and so that’s exactly what happened

- once you had enough you-time you immediately wanted to check on yua

- rin was a great dad and all but it just felt weird leaving yua for so long

- quietly, you snuck to her room, knowing she was probably already asleep

- it came as a surprise when you instead saw rin holding her while sitting on the rocking chair, singing her a small song

- your heart? MELTED

- you tried your best to not gasp so you could enjoy the moment for a little longer

- rin, however, noticed quickly </3

- he set the now asleep yua back in her crib before walking over to you, acting like he didn’t do anything out of the ordinary

“welcome back, how was it?” rin greeted with a kiss on your forehead. he pushed you both away from yua’s room so she didn’t accidentally wake up due to your whispers.

“rin, you have the prettiest singing voice and you only use it for yua,” you looked up to him with a pout on your face. you watched the different stages of rin’s realization show on his face. at the end he was covered in blush, looking away while speeding up his pace to go to your shared bedroom.

“rin! you should start singing to me sometime! and slow down!”

“shut up or you’ll wake up yua,” rin warned from basically a mile away from you. yeah, he didn’t slow down nor did he look at you for the rest of the night.

kaiser

- i feel like he sings a lot when doing tasks

- like chores? there’s a good chance that he’s singing

- he always sings low though, so it can be hard to tell

- it’s always absentmindedly too!

- so you noticed it pretty quickly into your relationship with him

- he was opening a few boxes he got from some companies he partnered with and some fan mail that had made its way into the pile when he was once again singing

- meanwhile, you had wanted to sneak up on him

- which, was going well until you abruptly stopped in your tracks at his low smooth voice

- that’s when he noticed you, completely oblivious to your earlier actions

“what’s wrong, liebe?” he questioned, his attention all on you now. a small frown made it’s way to your lips at the lack of his singing.

“were you just singing?” you asked even though it was obvious he was, just hoping he would go into more detail about it. a smirk appeared on his lips at the question, now turning his body to you.

“yes, aren’t i a good singer? do you want me to sing to you, my little bird?” he got closer with each word until his lips were next to your ear, letting out his seductive whispers. as much as you didn’t want to, you went red at his teasing, giving him a pout before pushing him away.

“you can’t say that when you have someone’s love letter to you in your hand!” you fought, both you and kaiser’s gaze dropping to the card with a heart on it. maybe it was bad timing.

- btw he’s not a good singer. he’s just full of himself.

isagi

- any song that has a catchy tune will get stuck in his head and he sometimes sings it out loud

- he has sang body by megan the stallion once because aryu played it as a joke

- but anyways you guys had the idea of creating a shared playlist the other day

- and isagi had been cleaning the dishes with a song stuck in his head

- and lucky for you, you caught him in the act

“isagi, are you singing a song from our playlist?” you recognized the love lyrics the song had. his eyes widened in shock, not even realizing his earlier singing, before turning to you with a red face.

“yeah, it was one of the songs you added,” he admitted sheepishly, hand going up to his nape, “it’s been stuck in my head recently.”

you only smiled at his shy confession, turning off the water to the sink before wrapping your arms around his neck. you both met for a gentle kiss, before going in for one more.

“you have a good voice,” you told, a smile now forming on his lips as his cheeks turned into a darker shade of red. instead of another sappy sentence, he met you for another kiss, this one longer than the rest.

reo

- he’s not much of a singer at all

- meaning it’s VERY rare to see him sing

- but when a song has been stuck in his head for awhile he slips and lets his singing voice out

- this time the song had been a slow one, really accentuating his nice vocals

- it had happened when he was filling out “boring” paperwork, naïve to his own singing

you snuck up on the purple-haired male, making yourself known by snaking a gentle hand up his back, resting your head on his shoulders. you had even gotten a startled jump out of him in the act.

“what’s wrong?” he questioned, head turning so that his still widened eyes met yours. you only have a chuckle at his reaction, your smile easing his tensed body.

“you should sing to me some more, you have a good voice,” his eyes widened once more before a smile made its way on his face. his arm slithered around your figure, pulling you to sit on his lap.

“so you heard, your wish is my command,” he whispered before planting a kiss on your nape, eyes going back to his paperwork while his singing voice started up again.

nagi

- he would hum a lot of game background music

- it was rare to hear him singing actual lyrics, seeing he was not the best music enjoyer

- however, if the song is from a game it’s more likely to happen

- you both had been laying together on your shared bed, doing your own things

- nagi had opened his game and it reminded him of the one song he heard from them

- so naturally, he started singing absentmindedly

- while you were like ????

- you probably thought it was his game at first because you never expected nagi to be singing??

“nagi, is that you?” you questioned, confused if he was just lip syncing or actually singing. once he processed your question and his lips stopped moving, you had your answer.

“yeah,” he answered, not knowing what else to say. his focus stayed on his game, showing his lack of care at your new discovery.

“keep singing, you sound good,” you snuggled up to him, head resting on his shoulder as your eyes fell to his game. his body gave you easy access, a natural response of his for his love of cuddling.

“too much of a hassle,” he sighs, a light stroke of pink coating his cheeks. he secretly loved that you were impressed. so much so, that he might just start singing again later.

unedited thanks for reading!

[aemondsbeloved]

I Knew You’d Haunt All Of My What-Ifs

summary: ten years have passed since you’ve parted from Aegon and married another. When you meet again much has changed and you have both lost too much, but the love from your youth is still there (5.7k)

warnings: mentions of character death, miscarriages and trouble giving birth, angst to fluff, hopeful ending!! AU where Aegon is King

this is a part 2 for I Knew You’d Linger Like A Tattoo Kiss

“I fear that I have disappointed you as a husband, lady wife,” your husband, Lorean Lannister said to you, holding your hand.

You laid on your chaise chair in your chambers at Casterly Rock, having just performed your duties in the birthing bed. The pungent smell of the blood on the sheets being carried from your bed by the midwives still lingered in the rooms.

You were grateful, at least, for the youngest of the midwives opening your windows so you could let the fresh smell of the air permeate the lingering stench.

With your fresh gown on and being bathed after your labors you could almost forget that your labors were of no success, that there was not another Lannister to run around Casterly Rock. Another boy, it would have been, if the babe had not come so early.

The hand in yours was a reminder who you were now and what you had failed to achieve. Turning to him you smiled, not one of love but one of appreciation. You were lucky your lord husband was not a cruel man.

“You could never disappoint me, lord husband,” you only gave his hand a squeeze, upset that you were the cause of that grief stricken look on his face. “I am the one, after all, who has disappointed you. I am the one who deprived you of another son.”

He looked away, sighing you name with a sad tenor. “We have two sons, my heir and the spare. The maester said your labors were difficult as had the last two been. It was not right for you to fall with child again, my love. It was too dangerous. We should not have tried to conceive another.”

You smiled dryly. “There is nothing that can prevent the difficulties of childbirth. A stillborn and a miscarriage were hard on me, as it was on you, husband. I know how badly you wanted a large family like you grew up in. I only regret that I have not given it to you.”

He looked to you, smiling in a way that showed he could cry if he had not had the strength to hold himself back. “To think that if things had not gone this way we would not only have two sons but four by now and a daughter too.”

His expression said it all, as did the hand that held yours. He desperately wanted a daughter too, perhaps it was the fondness he held for his two sisters growing up as a boy.

“That is not the way of things in this world, husband,” you said with remorse. “At least the Gods blessed us with two sons. Two good sons,” you added with importance.

Your sons were charismatic like their father and bold like their mother yet without the pride you had once said all Lannisters had. You loved your children and were proud how they have grown but could not fall in love with your husband.

“I love our sons,” he admitted, looking at you now and you could see the honesty in his green eyes. “You have made me a better man, I only wish you could love me as I love you.”

You opened your mouth but he made a gesture, shaking his head with a rueful smile on his lips. “Forget it,” he said, gently still. “You must rest now.”

With that, he had left the room and you could only lay there looking through your window to the sky outside. It was hours later that you received a letter that Queen Helaena had went into her own labors and had died due to complications, her baby along with her. The letter had detailed the funeral that would take place, her dragon Dreamfyre would be the only to burn her body along with her child’s. All you could think about was how when you were losing you son, Aegon was losing his wife, sister, and stillborn child in one day.

You found yourself wanting to write a letter to him, expressing your sympathies and revealing your own losses to him but that was not proper. You were not yet old but you were not so young and foolish anymore. You could not send a letter to the King like that because he was not yours to comfort. In due time someone on his small council would tell him of the loss of Lord and Lady Lannister, the third child dead as it entered the world. He would not write to you, so you should not write to him. Still though, you could only think of him the rest of the day.

It was months later and summer had come. You had mourned your dead child and no longer wore the blacks you were so used to donning after your child had perished. You begun spending every day outside the castle with your two sons when you had the time. They were growing faster than you’d like, having trained with the sword and your first excelled at it while the second loved his studies most of all.

It was this time of year your husband adored hunting. You supposed it was one of those things that he had for himself and you could not deny him even if you wished it.

In the mornings he would go, your handmaiden would let you know and you thought little of it, only expecting the beast he hunted that would be prepared by the cooks in the kitchens for a meal later that evening.

You should have learned to not take things for granted. After all this time, you should have learnt that. It seems you did not.

“My lady,” your husband’s father, Jason Lannister had come to you as you sat with your youngest son as he read while you stitched embroidery. “A moment of your time if you please.”

His serious expression was unlike your father-in-law and you saw how he glanced at your son. “Go find your brother, sweet boy,” you told him gently with a smile and when you saw the protest that was soon to come. Likely one about how he wished to finish his book and not train with his brother who only ever was found in the training yard. “You can finish it later, I promise. But go to your brother now.”

When he left you dropped the smile, worry showing on your features. “What is it, my Lord? I thought you were to be hunting with my husband and his brother.”

You knew what he was going to say before he said it, his face giving it away.

“I will speak plainly, my lady. There was a hunting accident, a wild boar that even my asstute son could not see coming. He.. is dead, I fear I must tell you. He died immediately.”

You should have been heartbroken but you were not. A tear did slide down your cheek as your body felt weak, though, with no strength left. You could only think of your sons and how they had lost their father. You had no love for your father, with his own drinking and harsh ways but Lorean was not like your father. He was a good man to your sons. He was not your lover but he was a companion of sorts. You mourned their father in your sons stead as they had lost something much more precious than you had.

Telling your sons Jonn and Mathin was not the worst of it, it turned out. They had cried, your younger Mathin asking why father had to die, you telling him that the gods could be cruel. Your elder Jonn only stood strong, knowing that he was Lord of Casterly Rock, or soon would be when his grandfather would pass.

Though, the worst of it was finding a routine and moving on. The weeks that passed were just the same as they were while your husband lived but it felt somehow more empty. You did not love him, but you did care for him. Your boys grew and you only wished their father could be there for them.

When Tyland Lannister came to Casterly Rock, you were lucky that you could count on his assistance. Competent as you were when it came to finding a match for your sons you knew other lords would not be as generous to a mere lady. This was, after all, how your world worked. Constantly underestimating women is the only way the world would treat you and you were no fool. You were not a princess, you were a lady. The lords would not show you respect as a woman.

For this, you were grateful that Tyland, who had made it clear he would assist you as much as needed, was dedicated to finding your son a match as much as you are. You supposed wanting to secure your son’s futures and house Lannister’s strength was his dedication to his nephew beyond the grave. You would take all the help you could get and were glad for Tyland’s assistance in your trip to King’s Landing to find a match for your sons.

“This banquet hosted by the King will be a great opportunity for Jonn and Mathin,” Tyland told you as you walked through the gardens of Casterly Rock. “There will be many lords there, eager to make matches for their children. With the news of the heir to Casterly Rock dead, every lord will see Jonn and want him for their daughter’s husband. Casterly Rock is a fine seat and any daughter would be lucky to be your son’s lady wife. Mathin will be just as desirable for every house as well, my lady. He is a second son of one of the most prominent houses.”

“Your brother will be there as well,” you added, walking in step with him as you approached the inside of Casterly Rock. “Lord Jason has always been a good advocate for his grandsons, I have no doubt with the both of you at King’s Landing my sons will have a good match. With my good father presenting, I have little worry Jonn and Mathin will find worthy ladies to be betrothed to.”

“To be sure,” he agreed but you could sense there was more to it.

“Please speak your mind, Tyland,” you urged plainly.

“The other lords will listen to my brother. Despite my elder brother’s confidence in everything he does, the other lords respect him.”

“But?”

You heard him sigh. “You grew up with the King Aegon and his brother Prince Aemond. It is common knowledge, though now forgotten by the court, that you were close friends with his Grace.”

“What of it?” you asked, training yourself to not sound defensive. No one knew you had loved his Grace, more than a childhood companion had, and you had no intentions of displaying your past affections.

“If you were to speak to the King about a match for your sons, he would be inclined to assist you. His word would persuade any of the lords beyond my brother’s sway. No one would deny a King”

“I think you may have overestimated my friendship with his Grace. The day I left the Red Keep I ceased any contact with King Aegon.”

“That might not matter as much as you think, my lady," he said, insisting. “Childhood friendships linger even as we age. Perhaps we think of what it was like to be young and free, even.”

“Perhaps,” you conceded as you both walked into Casterly Rock.

It was a few days later that you traveled with your family and stepped foot in the Red Keep after years of being absent from it. It was a glorious thing to see both your sons look out the windows with some wonder at the castle you had grown up in.

Your sons could not help the curious questions on their minds, however.

“Why do we have to go to the banquet again?” the younger asked quizzically, turning from the window to look at you.

“When the Protector of the Realm asks all the great houses to come to such an event, we are obliged to do so,” you said with some seriousness. “It is a great honor.”

“I do not want to dance,” your elder son said, his eyes still glued to the window as he was disgruntled at the prospect of doing anything but training.

You chuckled under your breath at that.

“You won’t be dancing much, my boy,” his grandsire, Lord Jason Lannister said from his place on the other side of the carriage. “You may find some friends. This is your first event at King’s Landing.”

“You mean I’ll have to go to more?” Jonn asked incredulously while Mathin looked out the window again, unbothered.

“You will spend many nights throughout your lives attending banquets and feasts, but there is some fun to be had off the training yard.”

He hummed, not quite satisfied but did not push further.

Your good father shared a meaningful look with you. “When we arrive I would like it if you spoke to Tyland. My brother is on the King’s council and has some sway.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, withholding the chuckle at your good father’s arrogance. Tyland might have been on the small council but everyone with ears knew that the King listened to his hand the most and if you still knew Aegon, you doubted Tyland was someone who he looked to anything for.

But you did not know Aegon anymore as that was rather the point, thinking if you put your all in your marriage it might dull the ache leaving him brought.

“—But of course, if you speak to the King I have little doubt he will listen. Or perhaps, Prince Aemond, as he is now the Hand to the King and you grew up with them both.”

Gods, was he still going on about this?

“Lord Jason,” you willed yourself to remain kind as exasperated as you felt. “I’ve not seen King Aegon and Prince Aemond in well over a decade. I am not sure what you expect.”

He opened his mouth, no doubt about to go on about something else but the carriage mercifully stopped, being opened for you. Jason promptly closed his mouth, getting out the carriage and helping you do the same. Mathin and Jonn followed suit.

“Lord Jason Lannister of Casterly Rock with his good daughter Lady Y/N Lannister and her sons, Jonn Lannister, the heir to Casterly Rock, and Mathin Lannister.”

You heard Ser Criston Cole announcing the arrival of your good father, you and your sons before you saw him.

“Lord Jason, I trust your journey was pleasant,” Queen Alicent, someone you had not seen in many years, greeted him. “Be welcome.”

“My Queen,” he bowed, enjoying the attention. “I have no doubt you remember my late son’s wife, Lady Y/N, from her time spent in King Viserys’ court?”

Moving out the way, you took a step forward, curtseying to the Queen. “My Queen,” you greeted her warmly with respect.

As soon as Alicent’s eyes were on you, the girl she had remembered very well now a woman grown, she exuded warmth, striding towards you. “Lady Y/N, it brings joy to us all to see you again.” Flitting her gaze to your sons behind you, Jonn standing proud and tall, Mathin’s posture just as straight with his softer and clever expression on his face. “I can see yourself in your sons so well. Motherhood suits you well.” She looked back at you so kindly you nearly felt a girl again.

“You honor me, your Grace.”

“Will you have tea with me in my apartments while your family gets settled? I had hoped to speak with you privately?”

You nodded, agreeing easily and before you knew it you left your sons to their grandfather, going with Alicent to her chambers in the castle.

Her apartments were just as you remembered and you smiled vaguely at the sight as her handmaiden poured tea for you both, leaving the room quietly. Alicent had already taken a seat on a chair as you moved to sit next to her. “It is so strange being here after so many years only for the castle to remain unchanged.”

She agreed quietly. This woman who had not just been your Queen but also had nearly been a mother to you when you were younger without one at court with an absent father, was deep in thought.

“Is there something you wish to ask me, my Queen?” you asked gently.

“I must tell you, Lady Y/N, that all those years ago you left the court our family felt your loss. You were a good friend to my children and I did not appreciate the good influence you had on Aegon. I thought my Helaena would make him softer and easier when they married but,” she trailed off and you stiffened. “That was not the case.”

Helaena, the Queen Consort who was now dead. You remembered the girl you had lessons with the Septa who had always seem in another world and was fascinated with her insects, destined to marry her brother who was so very difficult. Aegon had not wanted to marry her. You wondered if he mourned her— his sister, his wife, their dead child.

“If you do not mind me saying, your Grace, I am deeply sorry for the loss of Queen Helaena. There was no one more kinder and gentler I had met in my time here. She was a unique soul. I doubt we will see her likes in these walls again.”

A tearful smile and squeeze of your hand was her reply. “Thank you, my lady,” she said, voice thick from the tears wanting to fall. “Tragedy has befitted us both, I have heard. We both have lost fathers and husbands. I was deeply sorry when Tyland informed us of your husband’s sudden death.”

Despite not loving him, not truly anyways, you smiled the same sad smile. You were not soulmates and you could not love him the way you loved another in your youth but you had a family together. He was a companion in the least.

“Lorean was a good man. I worry for our sons. To grow up without a father is not a good thing to endure, especially when theirs was as devoted as he was to them.”

“They seem to be two fine boys. I am sure with Lord Jason and Ser Tyland they will grow up with great honor.”

You silently agreed with her. With the absence of your own mother you had always relied on Queen Alicent and now you wished to rely on her again. “My good father and uncle wish for advantageous marriages for my sons.”

Her brows raised indicating that was not what she expected you to say at all but you continued. “Men are always so concerned with what will make them look best I’ve found. Perhaps this is selfish but I wish my sons to have love in their marriages.”

Her silence filled the room. “If I have crossed a line, your Grace—”

“Nonsense,” she replied haastily. “I was not expecting those words from you is all, my lady. I understand the weight a father’s ambition can have.”

“Lord Jason and Ser Tyland are of the belief that my childhood friendship with your son guarantees a most powerful alliance in marriage,” you admitted, giving her a look of shared knowledge.

Men and their thirst for power. How tedious it was to women.

“You must see Aegon,” she urged with hope, battling the same decision in her mind as you have— admittance or pretending all was well. “He is so alone most days since Helaena has left us. Aemond spends all his free time with his ladywife and children but Aegon—” she cut herself off with a huff of breath, trying to reel herself in. “He has not turned out to be a poor father or king as I had feared, but he has no joy. I worry it might have been my doing.”

You were stunned into silence. Her next words were no surprise to you, though.

“I remember how close you two were,” she said with a slight smile as she looked at you and you thought maybe she was blind to how you felt for him all those years ago. “The closest of friends. I always told Ser Cole it reminded me of myself and—” she cut herself off, a frown tugging her lips harshly like the memory must have burned her. “Well, close as can be. Please see him, my dear. He will make a fine match for your sons, I know he would for you. Let your sons stay at court and meet other daughters of lords. They will find one they get on well with, I am sure, and one day,” her words trailed off before she focused on you again. “See Aegon. I know he would be most pleased to see you.”

“I will be more than happy to see him,” you murmured with a smile. “It has been a long time, indeed.”

When you left the Queen your skin itched with anticipation. You tried to pretend the prospect of seeing him again did not affect you but you were only lying to yourself. The same lie came easy when you swore you were going to him because his own mother said he was not well and you must honor your friendship.

“Is King Aegon occupied?” You asked the Kingsguard in front of Aegon’s chambers. “At the urgence of the Queen Dowager I had hoped to see his Grace.”

The scrutiny the Kingsguard gave you was not bothersome. You had long been scrutinized by men worse than him. The doors he was guarding opened before he could say anything to you.

“Lady Y/N,” greeted a voice coated in surprise. Long silver blonde tresses of hair and an eyepatch, that could be only one person. He moved past the Kingsguard to stand in front of you, a book tucked under his arm.

“Prince Aemond,” the happiness in your voice lifting your tone. “It has been so long since I’ve seen you. I hear much has changed in your life.”

“As have yours, my lady. You have not crossed our walls in some time,” he smiled courteously at you before casting a look at the Kingsguard. As the man in armor quickly left the message must have been clear. “I must admit, it is good to see you. A shame how long it has been.”

“The years go by quicker than I might have thought when I was a maiden,” you admitted. “I remember the games we would all play as children. A life time ago it seems.”

He raised his brows. “I remember you and my brother stealing a book from me in the library then proceeding to run around the castle to make me get it back.”

“You always did eventually catch us,” you teased him back, smiling in remembrance of childhood memories. “I hear the Gods have blessed you and your lady wife with many children. All girls, I heard.”

This time when he smiled it was genuine, fatherly pride on his face before a somber expression took over. “I thought of sending a letter as did we all but I am sorry for your losses, Y/N,” he frowned. “Your lord husband might have been the only tolerable Lannister to grace our halls. I have no doubt your children do him justice. If there is anything we might do to help, only ask.”

Your eyes flickered down to the pin on his jacket that signaled him as hand to the king. “Do not say the same to Lord Jason or Ser Tyland. You will live to regret it, my prince.”

He huffed a laugh. “Yes, Tyland is subtle but anyone with some intelligence could see he is striving for much more,” he shook his head disapprovingly. Aemond never did like the Lannisters for different reasons than Aegon did years ago before you were wed. “But if there is someone you want your sons to be betrothed to, come to me. Or better, my brother.”

Just like that your thought were on Aegon again and the past you had left behind. Right after, your mind laid heavy on Helaena and her absence. “I wanted to write as well,” you admitted. “I am so sorry about Helaena. She was the best of us.”

“My sweet sister,” he murmured with sadness. “She was too good and gentle to be of our world. But I know she would be glad you are here again.”

His heavy stare reminded you of his mother, knowing too much. He did not say anything else, just looking back at the cracked open door, back at you, then leaving.

You knocked on the door before pushing it open. From the entrance you could see it was dark, the curtains drawn closed despite it being midday. Unlike your teenage years in the Keep, the room was not littered with empty pitchers of wine.

“I told you to leave me be, brother,” you heard Aegon before you saw him, his voice irritated and deeper. “I am in no mood for company.”

“That is no way to greet your oldest friend,” you told him softly and walked further into the room, finally catching sight of him where he stood with his back turned and hands on his desk.

His entire body tensed and for a moment you thought you should not have come and that Alicent and Aemond’s insistence that you had returned was a good thing, was the very opposite. But then Aegon turned his head, lilac eyes meeting your across the room. Even here you could see the purple of his eyes had not changed.

He whispered your name, it sounding like a question. It was as if your name was a ghost, one he did not think he would catch a glimpse of again. “Is it truly you?”

You smiled gingerly, the corners of your lips quirking up at his sudden lack of anger he had when he believed you to be Aemond. “It is.”

There in Aegon’s larger chambers he had lived in since he had become King, you both looked at each other, taking in the changes in yourselves over the years. He looked different, tired from the years of being King, a father and perhaps the loss of his sister and wife Helaena was a reason for his haggard demeanor too. You were different too, bearing the appearance of a mother and a wife who had lost much, more or less than him.

Aegon stepped forward and met you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders in an embrace. You could not stop yourself as you embraced his middle, enjoying the moment you had of resting your cheek against his chest. It felt like a childhood memory, the embrace of the friend you loved. “I have missed you,” he admitted in a whisper. “I should have wrote to you. Helaena had told me to do so for years. It is no excuse.”

He pulled back from your embrace, not quite leaving your touch completely as his arms slid down your shoulders. His words had questions on the tip of your tongue. When had Helaena told him to write to you? Did she mean it as a friend writing to another friend, or was it for condolences when you lost your first child? Or did clever, astute Helaena always know what Aegon was to you and what you were to him?

“I am sorry about Helaena,” you said instead, but your voice was thick with emotion. “I wanted to write to tell you how heavy my heart was when I heard but it had been years.”

He bowed his head and took a deep breath, though you thought it was a shaky one too. “We did not love one another,” he admitted, not looking at you yet. “Not as a husband and wife should,” he huffed a breath that almost sounded like a laugh and when he looked back up at you he seemed to appear nostalgic with glassy eyes. “When we were children I remember telling you she was an idiot but I was wrong. She was always intelligent, though I did not even have it in me to understand her. I did not hate her as I thought I might have. I cared for her but never loved her.”

“I’m sorry,” it was the only thing you could think of to say.

He shook his head. “She did not love me either but she never had a paramour. I had given her leave to but she never,” his words died from his mouth and he seemed to be swimming in memories. “We did our duty and I did not stray far from her. It was a job, something that needed to be done, our duty. She was my sister.”

“I understand,” you whispered. “I never did love my husband. He did love me but I could never quite reciprocate. There was some happiness, though it is not the kind you hope to have as a young girl.”

Aegon gave you a long look and a hint of relief flickered in his gaze. You did not let your mind wander. You did not come to see him to confess about the love from your youth not quite disappearing.

“Why did you wish to see me?” he asked quietly, eyes refusing to leave your face and his hands reluctantly leaving your arms.

“Lord Jason wants advantageous matches for his grandsons,” you said sheepishly. “He and Ser Tyland are of the mind that our friendship in our youth would all but guarantee a power match for my sons.” Bashfully you smiled now thinking about how ridiculous the notion was.

“They are quite right. I would do anything for you, my dearest lady,” Aegon says matter of factly and the breath from your lungs left you. “Tell me what you desire for your sons and it will be done.”

He should not be calling you that, his dearest lady, and yet you needed to hear him say it a million times over again until he felt like his lungs had no more air just as yours did right now. Your lips parted, the shock and emotions pouring over you. “Only for my sons to know the Red Keep as I did when I was their age and for them to have happiness in their marriages. I should like to see my sons content and dare I say in love one day.”

He smiled ruefully and you mimicked him, chuckling at the thought. You could not think on your words before he spoke. “Whenever I look upon my sons and daughter I only wish for them to have what I did not, love when they marry one day. Having love within your grasp only for it to be taken from you is a burden heavier than I imagined.”

“Aegon,” you began, voice trembling and tearing yourself from his gaze. You wanted to beg him to not say something foolish. You wanted to let him say the things you only thought of in dreams.

“My adoration for you has not changed,” he told you hurriedly, not breathing between each word. “You have haunted me and I have regretted every day that I did not have us fly away on Sunfyre for good. I was horrid the day you left, cruel to everyone for weeks until father’s health withered and even I could not escape duty. Every day I wonder if it has been worth it.”

“Of course it has,” you reassured him, your words thick with emotion from all of it. “There is no one in the Realm that denies the strength you have given your house these last ten years and with dear Aemond as your hand I fear there is nothing that you could not accomplish during your reign. But I— I have missed you too. Daily and nightly. I never could have loved my husband, not when I never completely stopped loving you.”

His face crumples and his lip juts out. “You love me?” he asks, like he needed to hear you say it a thousand times.

“I love you,” you tell him, like you could say these words to him a thousand times. “I have loved you since I was a girl and you were a boy. I fear that I will love you until I have no more air to breathe.”

His hand reaches out and cups your cheek. Suddenly you are a girl again, desperately devoted to her prince who she would never be able to call hers. “I love you,” he repeats the words and there is no room for doubting him. You had known he loved you all your life. “When I am ash and another ascends the throne I will still love you. It is all I have known.”

“Aegon,” you breathe out his name and it is desperate and imploring, not too different than the times in your youth spent in the dragonpit or amongst the skies where you both had hoped those times to never end.

You cannot say another word when his head tilts down and his lips capture yours in a languid kiss. Your hands move to his shoulders, then go to cup his cheek. The kiss is different than the ones you had known these past years from your late husband; This one is slow, passionate, steeping in meaning that words could not possibly convey. I love you does not touch it. I need you, I desire you, I have always wanted you, you are the only one I have thought of, might have said it better, but none go as so close to his lips on yours.

You are the first to part from his embrace as you breathe heavily. The weight of his forehead against yours has never felt so right as anything before. “I want to marry you,” he whispers and it is not the first time he has said these words but it is the first time it does not sound like a foolish dream to console a young boy. It was a fact. King Aegon, second of his name, would marry his dearest lady.

* * * * * *

reblogs and comments are always appreciated! <3

[thepringlesofblood]

so. dimension 20 did a collab w heroforge and gave us this:

so OF COURSE I had to try and recreate these versions of the bad kids. looking at d20's minis and recreating them in heroforge is a favorite pastime of mine, and I've already made several iterations of the bad kids in heroforge. I'm interested to see how they compare!

for reference: the special items HF made for this collab are

Kristen's staff of doubt

the elven battle sheet

aguefort letterman's jacket

adaine's jacket of useful things

the infaethable bass

the infaethable wah-wah pedal

gorgug's artificer bandolier

The Ball's briefcase

2 decals - the aguefort A and a question mark

everything else goes beneath the cut bc no one should be subjected to the amount of detail I am about to go into without full consent

Riz first!

Pretty much the only thing I couldn't match was that the decals for those runes on his gun in the picture aren't actually available for that gun (at least not in vanilla HF).

notes

he has "elf ears" which is bonkers considering HF has many goblin & goblin-adjacent ears

yes, The Ball's briefcase is just the normal briefcase model with TB on it, but hey they tried! I think they wanted to make a thing for each character, and they made 2 for both Fabian (the sheet and the jacket) and Fig (the bass and the wah-wah pedal) so they went light on Riz since his gear is pretty well-represented by stuff already in HF.

I couldn't get his eyes to look as dead as they do in the announcement, but I think it's close.

this is one of the new face presets - "Strong Steady Features". I don't care for it, both in general and for Riz specifically.

compared with (my recreation of) Riz' actual mini for FHJY (made way way before these features were added and before the new faces were added as well)

same hair, same gun, same shoes, same pants, but the ears? "fey ears". none of this elf shit. fascinating.

Gorgug!

now he DOES have "half-orc ears", but his pants? "bard's pants" 0.0

not one of the new faces, but "heavy face" with a bunch of new edits applied

compare to (my recreation of) Gorgug's actual fhjy mini

the funniest thing is that at first glance it looks like they have the same shoes but the actual mini has the "beat up" version of the HF announcement shoes lol

Fig!

fig ALSO has "elf ears" despite technically being half-elf, but I'll forgive it this time. this jacket though...there is a leather jacket in heroforge. it rocks. but they chose instead to do the 'apogee crop jacket' (a sci-fi vibe) and just. color is all black? ok.

yes they put the wah-wah pedal in the update but you can't see it in the announcement

though they do have the fishnet pattern in HF, there is no decal for the kind of fishnets you see in the announcement.

she also has vampire teeth. make of that what you will.

she has one of the old face presets - "elegant features"

compare to (my recreation of) Fig's actual fhjy mini

at first I 100% thought the apogee crop jacket was just a HF announcement thing but the actual mini has it too!! bonkers. it's almost identical otherwise.

Adaine!

now you'd think! that the one elf! in the party! would just have normal elf ears! NO. maybe it's just the weird angle the shot is taken at in the HF announcement, but the ONLY way i could recreate what it looked like was by some Wild advanced posing with half-elf ears

also her pose is just so weird.

the jacket rocks tho

compared to (my recreation of) Adaine's actual FHJY mini

mostly the same clothes, but with actual elf ears. also the boggy is not screen-accurate they fully made their own boggy in the show. more of an action pose, adaine in combat.

Fabian!

he is. terrifying.

i love how since fabian isn't actually wearing a letter jacket in his mini, they try to like. sneak the silver/black aesthetic of his official art & mini into the weird lil brick pattern on his shirt

these pants are. hakama w kyana. it was the Only pants that looked right. why???

you cannot actually put the A decal where it would go on a letterman jacket. this was extremely difficult to achieve w a lot of creative finagling.

he does have half-elf ears at least. thank god.

someone give this man his cheeks back boy got shrinkwrapped

compare to (my recreation of) Fabian's actual fhjy mini

the actual fabian mini does have a real battlesheet the ribbons are an approximation.

his hair is more silver/gray than white

still half-elf ears thank god.

and finally Kristen!

honestly very similar to her actual mini, just different hair and face. also freckles less dramatic.

my recreation (of her actual mini) doesn't have the right hair bcthey combined 2 hairs for her - "feathered bowlcut" and some other one that makes it look longer.

[carnivore-voyeur]

I appreciate the way Tobias uses genre to tell a story. The psychedelic rock of the 60s we hear in Kiss The Go-Goat and in Mary On A Cross make sense narratively as it harkens back to a fictional past when Papa Nihil was THE Papa. The Doors. Hendrix. The Animals. Cream. It wouldn’t be unbelievable to place these songs back in that time to make them Classic Rock Hits in the fictional 21st century that the universe of Ghost is set in. It’s not only that. It’s the evolution of rock within that universe Tobias is committed to.

Think of Dance Macabre and of Spillways, which literally involves Arena Rock legend Joe Elliott of Def Leppard. We get the sense that not only did Papa Nihil’ s style evolve but that the subsequent “Papas” were raised to love and appreciate this style - especially the ‘youngest’ or ‘newest’ one, Copia. It makes sense not only because Tobias was a child raised on that type of music, but narratively in the sense that his characters were too, and that Papa Emeritus IV especially incorporate it into his style as he ends up selling out actual arenas.

Tobias has been heavily involved in the metal scene, even way before Ghost. So, there are aspects of Ghost that are very much forged (lol) from him being immersed in that for so long. At the same time, he draws inspiration from theater, punk rock, pop, doom, 80s ballads and everything in between to tell a story and he does so effectively. To deny that Ghost is metal is absolutely ridiculous. To limit Ghost to metal is also absolutely ridiculous. Ghost is very intentional in their use of metal, as well as their branching into other genres.

Half the internal battle people have with labeling Ghost as “metal” comes from the fact that Tobias does this, but it’s in doing this that he really pays homage to the origins of metal. I think people forget (or maybe they never knew) what metal started with. We wouldn’t have shock rock without Screamin’ Jay Hawkins but if you listened to his music you wouldn’t automatically think “metal” unless you had a deep appreciation for metal. Even Black Sabbath by today’s standards would be under the scrutiny of gatekeeping metal elitists.

Ghost is a love letter to rock music across genres. Ghost also shows a deep appreciation for metal specifically. It fully embraces the “shock” aspect of metal. It’s heavy when it needs to be. It’s bringing metal back to the forefront after being beaten down by “butt rock” and the explosion of pop “indie” rock that was inoffensive to both atheists and evangelicals alike while still giving them a little bit of “edge” so they could still feel cool. Metal is a big middle finger to that, and Ghost was instrumental in reviving it for a large audience.

All. While. Being. A. “Satanic.” Band.

That’s hard! It’s brilliant. It should be impossible. It’s forbidden. It’s scandalous. It’s hilarious. They’re a joke. They’re the best thing you ever heard. They contain multitudes. So, haters can keep hating, but there’s a reason why Ghost is so popular and there’s a reason why they’re adored by so many rock musicians both inside and out of the metal scene. What they do is unique and nostalgic all in one, all while telling a story that uses genre as a literary device and yet creates these songs that can be enjoyed independent of their story.

[vickyvicarious]

why are you people hyping up jonathan harker he was fucking useless LMAOOOOOOO

just on the background while the doctors always did actual work and had insight and schemes and godalming and morris used their $$$

meanwhile he just fell on his knees crying I DEFY YOU STARS OH MY DOOMED LOVE

Oh, anon. I know I probably should just ignore you. However, I first of all find this ask very funny, and secondly you are giving me a golden opportunity to brag about my boy, here. I'm definitely gonna take it.

Behold - an incomplete list of things Jonathan Harker has done:

survived for months alone in Dracula's castle, maintaining a delicate balance of not rocking the boat too far and getting killed, but never giving up fully/seizing every chance to try and learn more or find a way out (letters, wall-climbing, etc.)

the only person to harm Dracula (shovel scar) and live (the only others were Renfield and Quincey, both of whom died the same day). the only person to hit him more than once (shovel, cut his coat open, sliced off his head). one of the two people who killed him (sliced off his head if you missed that one)

escaped by climbing down a castle wall and fleeing on foot through mountains full of wolves, without any warm clothes

was the person to recognize Dracula in London, and to direct the group to Carfax

did literally all of the footwork required to track down Dracula's boxes. began this task on his own without being given direction, and was well underway on it before even linking up with the others. (insight!)

bribery! lots of bribery! using his own inherited money at least part of the time ($$$!)

also, lied to/tricked various sources that he was either still Dracula's attorney, or utilized Arthur's status, to get information (schemes!)

suggested to a surprised Seward that Renfield may be reacting to Dracula and is "a sort of index to the coming and going of the Count." (insight!)

was van helsing's biggest primary source confirming what his research said about vampires, as seen in big speech day when he told everyone 'vampires do this (as seen in Jonathan's diary)' like five separate times

was the first to move to attack Dracula on October 3 (at his house not the asylum), galvanizing everyone else into action

um, kinda a big thing that he never considered his love doomed? like. yeah. willing to go to hell/become a vampire himself to stay with Mina. willing to doom everyone else for his love if necessary but never to give up on that. fell on his knees (I'll grant you) immediately... to comfort Mina when she felt unclean. set aside his immediate impulse towards revenge in order to comfort her first.

but also. very much willing to act to prevent such an outcome? urged everyone else to get on the move so he could go kill Dracula for everything he'd done?

nonetheless, didn't put his personal catharsis/revenge above the goal. was willing to take a backseat for the sake of success in the initial plan and just play guard rather than insisting on being the one to stake/behead him.

...honorable mention again for beheading him anyway in the end. Jonathan literally killed Dracula, bud. (fucking useful!)

I love all the main characters, and am not interested in devaluing anyone's contributions. The doctors are very smart (among other things) and important. Arthur and Quincey are very rich (among other things) and important. Mina, who you failed to mention, is extremely clever (among other things) and important as well. Jonathan, surprise surprise... is also all of those things!

And I love him. He's been my favorite character since my first time reading this book long ago. I (don't actually) regret to inform you that Dracula Daily has only increased that love, as well as vindicated it by seeing many other people agree that he's a great character really screwed over by adaptations, and thus even if I were generally inclined to feel upset about these kinds of messages, this'd still miss the mark. Rather, I thank you for the opportunity to reflect on some of the many ways Jonathan was an integral part of this vampire-hunting team.

[akxrra]

❝ talk to you. ❞

ricky montgomery.

────────────────────

synopsis: it's hard voicing out your feelings, especially when they're miles away. featured: himeko x nb!reader contains: mutual pining, kinda angsty, a little bad links: masterlist | introductory post and rules a/n: shshd i love himeko sm pls marry me

★

"do you really have to leave?"

it felt like a piece of your heart was torn, ripped, and left incomplete.

you and himeko were classmates in college, both so ambitious and full of wonder. though your personalities are mostly different, you two never fell apart. each and every problem was resolved, no matter how stubborn the both of you were.

you pushed her limits and helped her out of her comfort zone, and she kept you grounded and level-headed in the middle of the chaos around you.

she was your rock, she completed you.

and now, she's gone.

"i'm sorry," the college student himeko said, clutching her suitcase tight. "i promise i'll be back."

it's been nearly 2 years since she said that, and himeko never once came back. you understood that she had bigger dreams than you, but you just wished receiving at least one letter from her.

you don't even know why it hurts you this much. sure, you were both extremely close in college, nearly spending every minute with each other. sure, you had frequent study "hang-outs" and went shopping together. sure, himeko and you shared a strangely small sauna tub during a vacation. and sure, you always had this fuzzy feeling whenever your hands brushed against hers.

but should it really hurt this much?

"himeko," you'd mindlessly mumble whenever you saw something reminding you of her. "himeko," you'd chuckle out when you saw a character with red hair like hers. "himeko," you'd sigh, reminiscing about the days you were still side by side.

you never noticed it, you never acknowledged it, and you never even thought about it.

you wanted to hold her again, bask in her presence, and talk to her.

you wanted to love her.

☆

"i'm sorry. i promise i'll be back."

that was her reply to you, her heart crushing as she sees your saddened eyes. she made you, the usually cheerful and smiley you, upset. and that was even more devastating than actually leaving you.

himeko knew she'd have to leave one day. she knew it ever since you both talked about your dreams. they were just so distant from each other, and if they wanted to achieve their dreams, then they also need to be distant.

it's a fate that neither of you could avoid, so himeko just wished she wouldn't get attached to you.

alas. in the end, the red-head couldn't ignore you.

himeko would see your toothy smile in the corner of her eyes. she'd see the way your orbs would sparkle when she gazes at the stars. the truth is, in a room of people and gold, himeko would notice you first.

you, you, and always you.

even after 2 years, himeko would go through her old pictures, most of them containing you. although the red-head fulfilled her dream to see the world through the astral express, she sometimes wishes she didn't go and just stayed with you.

because, in truth, she wanted to live her life with you. and even if she denies it,

she wanted to love you.

────────────────────

[dear-indies]

hi there! (firstly, free palestine!) secondly, i'm genuinely asking for advice here, I feel like such an awful person and am unsure what to do. half of my muse list is either on the blackout celeb list, briefly mentioned on the alleged zionist list (meaning, they were coerced into signing biden's letter or liked a post, etc) or on both sides, unfortunately. now, i've been on tumblr for years and years, and i've worked really hard into creating these characters from scratch. I love them but I dislike changing faceclaims, and would scrap the entire muse all together, if I could. does it make me a bad person to want to keep them? roleplaying is about your comfort level and happiness, as long as both parties are comfortable. the only time I can consider (in the past) when someone dislikes a faceclaim is when they were REALLY disgusting to another person, physically, for example. and i've noticed plenty of writers on tumblr, just continuing on with their lives (acting like they live under a rock, don't care, so on and so forth, as these are just faces we use, rather than actual humans on television.) so, i'm unsure. I don't want to stop writing with the people I love, but I don't want to be called out and slapped a label on. thanks for your patience and time, and hopefully you can help me. have a good one. xx

hey! honestly there is so much wrong with this ask but since you want my advice, i don't know how you can say "free palestine" and then question if you should still use zionists and people that palestinians have asked to block/boycott for their silence. also, "when someone dislikes a faceclaim" who have done "REALLY disgusting to another person," that include people supporting genocide too.

for me, since roleplaying is about my comfort, i'd feel uncomfortable using somebody for one of my characters who has shown support such evil things and if that doesn't make you uncomfortable then i don't know what to tell you.

fuck zionists. fuck isr*el. and fuck people making excuses.

like sure, some celebrities have came out saying they're sorry for being silent or being uneducated and have since educated themselves and are now doing all they can which is great. but a lot of people are not using their platforms and privilege. even those that have been "coerced into signing biden's letter or liked a post".

[mysteriouslybluepirate]

Live Blog/My thoughts scene for scene ish for OFMD S2 Episodes 1-3

FULL SPOILERS FOR S2 EPS 1-3. Including a post credit scene for Episode 3 that includes a teaser for the episodes 4-5 and discussing scenes we haven't seen from the trailer.

My long form stuff usually gets seen by people outside of my circle so before this long post I want to preface with this-

Hi! Izzy is my favorite character. As of right now I have written just under 240k words about this guy and spent most of my time in this fandom in Izzy spaces. If that is a problem for you, this might not be the read.

But I got fed a 5 star meal and already see this season is a love letter to the fans and I am here to appreciate it. 

Please be warned. I personally think this season should have a warning on it for how it handles suicide, suicidal ideation, substance use and relationship abuse. I will be going in depth on this but handle it with respect as someone whose lived shit like this.

My first watch was without subtitles and on a big old tv screen. I I decided to miss a few things my first watch, choosing to turn off subtitles, and get surprised by dialogue and delivery(as I tend to read ahead). This watch is to confirm lines, appreciate delivery, and more. 

I have not read any meta, and this is blind before I see how all my mutuals freak out!!!!

Lines that fucked me up will be bolded. Just know I want to write an essay about them, and would given the chance. (sorry for spelling errors I watched this twice + stayed up for an extra 10 hours😅)

EPISODE 1:

I liked the recap, but I don’t think it’s enough for casual viewers who watched it maybe once ALSO. That Edit of Izzy’s ‘namby-pamby crying for his boyfriend’ IMMEDIATELY into the Toe Scene got a laugh out of me, because OWW. How had we not thought of that? 

I LOVE THE DREAM SCENE. Izzy beating him fair and square, but still losing. The stab in the killing side? THE MELODRAMA. The way this confirms Stede sees Izzy as a ‘big bad’ he needs to defeat to ‘win’ Ed. Him having the most 1 dimensional view of both him, Ed, and Izzy. A view how Stede is still an idiot unable to see nuance in people. Izzy smiling? The way he mutters his last words> God I love Con O’Neill. Let’s watch him maybe die 8 separate times and call it a season. 

It also got a good laugh out of me. Did I predict that that it was a dream when the teaser came out? Yeah. Still funny as shit.

‘Can’t be worse than you moaning Ed, Oh Ed’ FUNNY AS SHIT. 

I liked the ‘customer service’ montage. Swede, you deserve all the love you get. You are in good hands.  I think Stede’s part of this episode was just to lighten the rest of it. Hello to an antagonist of this season, and narrative foil to Stede, Prince Ricky.

I know it doesn’t matter who did Ed’s back tattoo, but the irony of Ed trusting someone enough to get it done is just funny. 

(Wedding Scene) I SQUEALED WHEN WE GOT THE RETURN OF ED’S EVIL THEME. Also, calling his crew the devils ‘kids’ is so fucking funny. HELLO CLASSIC ROCK IVE NEVER HEARD OF??? Welcome to the OFMD playlist. I love the montage of ‘Ed is working everyone to death’. Izzy got to threaten an English sailor. I know he’s happy with that. 

Yes. The wedding thing was absolutely over the line. RIP Ivan, you will be missed. I can’t wait for Frenchie to break down, and congrats to all the people who wrote Frenchie as emotionally distant, you’ve won! 

THE WAY IZZY SOUNDS SO TIRED ‘Yeah. They got cake.’ ALSO. Did I miss the knife throwing scene?? Was that just for the trailer? I think it was in a past edit and they removed it.

‘Can’t do the job? Someone else will’ (Ed to Izzy)- Izzy felt that he mattered to Ed. This one line reframes their entire relationship. This fucks Izzy up. I theorize as the main reason Izzy never did anything was because Ed was his captain. But they were still friends. Close. Trusted partners.  But Izzy is still expendable. Even after all this time. He is nothing. Maybe he knows Ed is doing this so he rebels, and kills him, but maybe he doesn't. Izzy cares about loyalty... we'll see.

Yes. The Izzy scene hurts. But after watching Ep 2, this is nothing. 

‘It is your job to-to follow my fucking orders’ (Izzy to crew) THIS IS NOT HOW I THOUGHT THIS LINE WOULD BE USED. Because he knows. He knows he’s fucked, and he’s struggling to accept the fact that he’s looking down the loaded barrel. He knows that he can’t make these people listen to him, not any more. He’s alone, and now the one thing he can do(be Ed’s first mate) is about to be stripped from him. Hell, it already is.

Spanish Jackie. I love you. I love you so much. Extort those fuckers. Semi clean water and education is a big deal! Also, this season overall is a HUGE win for my fellow Pete fans. Funny bastard. 

I have thoughts about Prince boy, but they can wait until he does something.

Stede’s flaw has always been his naivety, habit of judging once and never really questioning it, and his ego. Prince is able to take advantage of it. I don’t trust him. I think he’s a spy. I also like thinking Spanish Jackie is collecting husbands to certain tasks like it’s Pokémon. Need a bartender? Customer service husband. The books? Math husband. New Swedish husband? Masseuse.

HI IZZY ED SCENE ----

‘Because it’s fuckin’ treasure.’ Izzy. Izzy I fucking love you. God. The way he stiffens up. Knowing them not following orders means he will lose a toe. Fucking god. 

This to me confirms that Ed really wants to get Izzy to kill him in in ep 1. He will tear down every good memory they have just to get Izzy to give in. He doesn’t care about their past, he just wants to die. Izzy is a convenient violent punching bag because he can’t leave. He knows fully well that this crew doesn’t listen, and blames Izzy for a fact he can’t change. It’s fucked that he's shoving Izzy into this corner but he doesn't think there will be consequences. 

Honestly. I think Izzy knows his partner is at this edge, but he can’t do anything. This is why he gets the guts to talk back. Both here and later in front of the crew(more in a second).

The ‘you know me better than anyone has ever known me’ (Izzy to Ed) line kills me. Because it’s honest. For the rest of these episodes Izzy is so fucking honest It hurts. He can’t lie. Not to himself, not anymore. Not to Edward or the crews. He can't take advantage of any situation, or turn the tables. All he has is his words. He knows this, and yet here he is. Facing this abuse, and trying, because he wants to fix it. But he knows he’s not enough to snap Ed out. 

‘I have love for you’ (Izzy to Ed in cabin)Present tense…fucking hell. Izzy tries to pull Ed out by showing his soft center, and we can tell from Ed’s dismissive reaction that he already knows all this. But Ed isn’t talking. Izzy can’t read minds, he wants to help. I know he felt adrenaline spring through him after the confession, and with loose lips, he says just the wrong thing. HI MICROEXPRESSIONS ON CON. FUCKING AHH

‘Hang on Ed- Captain.’ (Izzy to Ed as Ed is marching out to the crew)OW. OUCH. OOF??? IZZY PANICING???? Trying to stop this???

The look on Izzy’s face when Ed holds the gun to himself is not shocked. Hurt, and he immediately closes himself off, like he genuinely thinks Ed would do it.  That’s what hurts. Also, I don’t know if hes doing a high pitch voice to imitate Izzy, but that’s my view of it. 

‘PACK IT IN' (Screamed by Izzy to Ed) THATS MY MAN!!! Stand up to Ed being shitty! GOD. Frenchie’s little head shake. Trying to warn Izzy, to tell him no :((((. But Izzy doesn’t care. He knows he’s not got too long left, so he might as well chew Ed out, to say the things everyone is thinking but are too scared to say. God, the way Ed teases the answer in front of everyone. -Say his name and I will shoot- sitting right there in his eyes, and Izzy GRINS and he says ‘Stede fuckin’ Bonnet’ and that is finally enough of an excuse for Ed to shoot. 

Look at the way Ed nods his head as Izzy says it, not even letting Izzy finish before saying it. He's done. All the other performative versions of violence, of being Blackbeard he does, I see a reason to say 'he's doing this as self hurt' but Idk. It feels like he wanted to, and now he can. So he does. The way everyone reacts hurts me. The way Ed steps over him, the way Ed pushes Frenchie into Izzy’s job. 

I know many fans, and myself before the show aired, thought the leg shooting would be too much. In all honesty. This is how I’d want it written. This entire episode has showcased Edward’s grown resentment to his friend mixed with self destructive impulses. Some might view this as being too much, but given episode 2, this is such a big fucking moment I can’t even comprehend it right now. 

Do I think Izzy’s love confession pushed Ed to this panic- ESPECIALLY after his last confession ended in Stede running away? Maybe. But I think Ed was mentally in a place where he couldn’t react with anything BUT dread. Thus making the Stede call back even worse. But I don’t know. 

That’s one end of the spectrum of how this scene can be interpreted (Ed shooting Izzy’s leg felt unjustified/uncalled for at this point in the story) now lets turn it around (The ‘Izzy deserved it’ fuck heads)

Lets be 100% clear here. 

I view Izzy turning the crew to the English was a catylist, BUT not a cause for them getting captured. Stede was wanted for murder, and would have gotten caught eventually. Hell, the fact Blackbeard was on the ship in S1 was a lucky guess that Chauncy was happy to take advantage of, that IZZY HAD TO SIGN THE ACT OF GRACE to get Ed out of.  

Can Ed hold Izzy responsible instead of taking accountability for his own actions? Yes. This episode shows that’s basically how he sees it. But we as fans are basically shown 5 different ways to view Izzy as sympathetic here. 

Now: Moving back into the episode (after 500 words of that…damn)--------------

Ricky is so dumb…. I don’t know if I love it or not.

I love ‘Susan’ (Zheng Yi Sao) but have some thoughts. I enjoy her, the way she holds herself like Ed did in episode 3, drawing that parallel. That and her Izzy narrative mirror of a first mate. Also, I hope the Swede and Spanish Jackie have a lovely season. I love them so much. 

(Yes! I got to inform the family of the history of the Queen of Pirates. I love what I do. )

One of my favorite crew scenes: Jim and Fang failing to correctly remember the story. I LOVE IT. I agree Archie, Jim trying to help Fang feel better is so fucking GOOD. Mixing the legend of the Monkey’s paw and Pinochio while cleaning up Izzy’s blood is so fucking…much. 

Hi another song I have never heard of??? (The whistle one, you will be going to the Ed Izzy divorce playlist)

Ed is pulling a Stede. Running away from every problem forgetting they dont exist. The second something tries to change he snaps. It hurts looking at Frenchie clearly trying to balance his family and Edward’s lack of empathy. I fucking love this episode, and think it’s up there for my favorites. This is a trend that will continue. 

EPISODE TWO:

Maybe my favorite piece of writing in ages. Can I just say they are Fucking WILD to call the Izzy/Ed episode ‘Red Flags’????? BECAUSE DEAR GOD

I watched the recap. It’s like, 3 scenes of stede, with Izzy geting shot and the final scene of Zheng Yi Sao. 

Classical song in opening: Etude No. 1, Op, 25. Going into the writing playlist. 

Buttons sleeping with his feet up, maybe to be close to the sea?

Now. I am going to use this moment to discuss a large criticism I have. The cutaways to scenes from S1. Now, do they feel fast, and awkward, yes. Should the writers trust their audience to tie the call back together? Yes. But for a casual audience I think these scenes are VERY necessary if you haven’t watched the show. I think they should be taken out, but I get why they’re there. 

‘Run From Me’ by Timber timbre THIS IS A FUCKING ED/IZZY SONG IN THE SHOW?!?!??!. WE DID IT. WE GOT 1! I don’t see any way how you could tie this is Ed/Stede. A song about the fear of hurting others and needing to always push people away. After last episode??? I fucking… I teared up on rewatch, because FUCK. It’s a scene with Ed playing with the dolls, but Izzy’s presence is right THERE. 

OMG OMG OMG- A PIRATE SHIP IS USING THE BELLS SYSTEM TO KEEP TRACK OF SHIFTS????? (Kind of? Not really? She just rang a bell. But just give me this).

Wee john & Buttons, I love you. ‘YES QUEEN!’ I CACKLED! I love the mispronouncing ‘China’ gag. 

‘I decided to take a chance on you…because’ Because they’re allies. Stede taking ‘soft’ as a compliment gives me life. 

LUCIUS!!!!! I FUCKING LOVE THEM!!! THE ‘OH MY GOD’ CALLBACK!!! THE HAPPY CREW SONG RETURNING?? 

I love that Stede is immediately like-*the vibes are off. What happened to my boy.* as soon as he sees him

Can I also say, I love that when we transition over to the Revenge, we see it from the front, sailing into frame. It’s such a good shot. 

I love that Ed is obviously in a manic period, FUCK. WHAT IF HE WAS CRYING OVER KILLING IZZY??? He wouldn't…but other than that, I can’t see specifically what he was crying about. 

‘No more booze, no more drugs, and more importantly, no more Izzy’ WHEN I TELL YOU I GASPED WHEN IT WAS REVEALED IZZY WAS KILLED THE FIRST TIME. God. Not by Ed, because Ed would never, but by FRENCHIE. No wonder they had to edit ‘Stede’ over that in the trailer… 

‘The new first mate always kills the old first mate’ - Okay, this bugs me. It’s not that the first mate is killed because ‘it’s law’. First mates were usually picked by their captain, but the Captain was democratically chosen. The first mate is loyal to the captain, as that is their job. The reason the first mate was killed when replaced was because the new Captain feared the old first mate could start a mutiny, and use the friendships built against a new person in power-

OH SHIT. DOES THIS MEANS ED KNEW IZZY WOULD MUTINY???? SO HE ORDERED FRENCHIE TO KILL HIM??

HOLY FUCK! :0

EDWARD YOU CONNIVING LITTLE BASTARD!!!!!

Hi secret passage :) To all the authors who also wrote them as tiny little hallways in the walls, rip. How did no one notice an extra room.

IZZY!!!! MY BOI

God, Izzy just knowing he’s fucked, and wanting to die now before Ed finds out is so fucking GOOD. ‘We just had him asleep’ JIM he’s a 50 year old man fading in and out of sleep due to an infection, not a toddler. I love that Izzy is just…so done. He didn’t expect the crew to help him out 🙁

HELLO OTHER SCENE IN THIS EPISODE I DIDN’T EXPECT TO LOVE-

God. I think my problem with Lucius in fanon was that he was always treated like he was above it all. The therapist. The loving partner. The jokester. But he has actual depth and Nathan is a brillian actor.

Hi Buttons being a sea god. I love that I wrote him as being creature adjacent ages ago. Bro can read Chinese AND got a fun magical ability. I can’t wait for that to pay off. 

THE OTHER SCENE I HAVE FEELINGS ABOUT. Pissed off Ed being so fucking cheery when confronting Frenchy is so unnerving. Ed isn’t dumb. He knows. He knows the moment he caught Frenchie with that box that he was helping keep Izzy alive but he needed it confirmed. Which Frenchie did. 

(This is the point where my bro woke up so I rewatched everything with him)

Dear god. CAN WE CLEAN IZZY? Bandage that leg? ANYTHING?

‘But he’s out dick’ (Jim to Archie about Izzy and why they want to keep him alive) FUCK YEAHHHH!!! I love it, but can we not do this in front of a passed out Izzy?

Oh, the way my gut dropped the first time I saw Ed on the stairway of the secret room. Keep that man away from him.

GOD THE WAY I FUCKING GROANED WHEN OLU MOVED THE SHIPS ON THAT MAP. I am so happy the show is portraying how a flagship of a fleet works!!!

Lucius smocking to relieve stress and sooth his anxiety. All that to not think about what's happened. THAT and Pete being the ‘softer’ partner, gives me life. 

Izzy/Ed scene in the hidden room.

HI IZZY! ‘Up in leg heaven’(Ed to Izzy) Does this line read like bad fic? Yes. Good think I write fic and think it's fucking hilarious.

I fucking CHERISH this scene- 

‘I dreamt you killed me.’ ‘good for you’ (Ed to Izzy, Izzy to Ed)I FUCKING LOVE YOU IZZY- you are so tired of Ed's shit. I would put the entirety of this scene and every micro expression from Izzy if I could. ALSO ‘Eddie????’’ WHY- FUCKING- THAT WAS A FANFIC LINE AND IT'S MAKING ME SAD :0.

We are so getting a flashback next episode, aren't we? Even if we don't I'm so satisfied seeing the past closeness hinted at in these 3 episodes.

‘Clean up your own mess I’ve been doing it my whole life.’ I fucking LOVE HIM!! Even when he's suffering through an infection he won't let Ed walk all over him. Then Ed gives him his gun. LITERALLY TELLING IZZY TO STILL CLEAN UP THE MESS. 

‘I loved you…best I could.’ OH FUCK> OH FUCK!!!!! How did I MISS THAT ON MY FIRST RUN? IZZY/ED CONFIRMED???? THE FUCK???? ED ADMITS THAT HE FUCKING LOVED HIM!!! FUCKING KILL ME. ALSO PAST TENSE! That better be because he thinks Izzy is dead and not that he doesn't love him anymore :((( 

I loved Stede mentoring Lucius in talking btw. 

‘Save the rest for Pete’ (Stede to Lucius) Aw. Stede can’t be the therapist. I also love that Pete got freaked out. It makes me happy. 

I love this whole pre-storm scene. The way we can see Ed adjusting the canon into the mast to blow it down. The general storm vibes. The tension. The way it reads like the fuckery scene in ep 4 with the storm. Ed being steps ahead. But instead of Ed doing something clever he's doing something self destructive.

‘Run From Me’ start playing in the background up again when Lucius' line about being broken and learning to cope. LEADING RIGHT INTO THE STORM SCENE- AHHHH.

The way JIM STOPS ARCHIE FROM FIGHTING. Literally replicating their arc from S1.

THE WAY IZZY SHOOTS ED TO PROTECT THE CREW FROM ED LITGHTING THE CANON WICK. THE FUCKING PAN UP REVEALING IZZY IS ALIVE AND *EMPTY*

‘YOU INDESTRUCTIBLE LITTLE FUCKER’ (Ed to Izzy) THESE TWO I SWEAR TO CHRIST!

GET ‘EM FANG! PROTECT IZZY

God I fucking love this episode. So fucking much. The fact Ed/Izzy divorce has multiple suicide attempts built in makes me feel things. I wouldn’t expect anything else. 

==============================================

EPISODE 3

‘I know, it’s been a day!’ (Zheng Yi Sao to Shadow guy)

I love the scene of her bargaining with the guy and think Zheng Yi Sao is going to build a pirate army to take over the Republic. She’s already taken over China. This is just for pride.

GOD I love the scene of Stede going through the ship. Mainly because it lets us see the hallway, and tells me more of the Ship's anatomy but that's not the point. 

I don't know how the Crew survived the storm, but DAMN. I'm so proud of all of them working together. We were all right to write fic like that.

Izzy just casually being devalued by Stede and how he just IMMEDIATELY looks to Frenchie. OW. FUCKING OW. Also the way Izzy said 'Bonnet' at the start of this scene makes me so happy. 

I ZONED OUT A BIT- FORGOT TO WRITE

Now we’re at the scene of Stede cleaning up the knives. Leading into Izzy and Stede bitching. I love this scene mirroring the one where Izzy tells Stede to ‘plumb the depths’. Because it’s a moment where Izzy tries to be honest to Stede, but it doesn’t work. I FUCKING LOVE THIS SCENE SO MUCH. Izzy holding his tongue just a bit trying to warn Stede. A person he is actively jealous of. Hell, he even takes accountability for his actions. He even tells Izzy a half truth that they didn’t kill Ed. 

IZZY IS FUCKING TRYING. BUT STEDE IS TOO STUBORN!!!! Why does Izzy always need to be the voice of reason, it’s bad for him :( He needs someone to treat him seriously. 

I love that Hornigold has all of Ed’s mannerisms from the start. That and all of Hornigolds memories are what Ed remembers about the things he hated about the man (the crab thing)

Is it sad that Ed is excited to live a normal life, but his gut(Hornigold) tells him not to be so naïve? Yeah. But I’m mad at him, so give me a day. 

I love Izzy in the jail scene. ALSO WHY IS FRENCHY LEANING THAT CLOSE TO IZZY-HELLO?? Izzy crying, closing his eyes. Not able to keep Ed safe because he still tried SO HARD to keep his body semi stable. They think he’s probably dead, and Izzy still keeps his corpse safe. EVEN AFTER ANYTHING. HE STILL LOVES HIM! :D D:

This is where the Pirate Queen isn’t fun anymore for me. I liked her, but then she threatened Olu if he said no?? I don’t like it! Especially as it seems Olu didn't get the hint.

The escape overall is very fucking sweet. Especially Izzy shushing people. I makes me happy :)- Also Buttons being a good first mate and giving orders as soon as they touch deck.  

I’M SORRY- IZZY THNAKING STEDE I saw it the first time, and freaked out, but the second?? DEAR GOD! I fucking love him. Give this man a hug. 

Also! I think the Mermaid scene is my 'Ohh Daddy' from S1. It’s a bit.. .much, I like the metaphor a lot. Eh. I don't know. I think they should have blured out Stede's face a bit with water. Reveal it's REALLY Stede when he gets closer. Hide the budget a but more or do a far away shot vs up close. Pretty but just a bit off.

ALSO: IF YOU HAVEN’T WATCHED THE Ep 3 POST CREDIT SCENE DO-AS I’M SPOILING IT. As a person who is writing a ‘cured object’ thing for this fandom… watch this undo like, 40k of my own words. Please let Izzy be a bit of a skeptic but he generally follows the vibes cause ‘legends’ ALSO murder lesbians!! ALSO IZZY/STEDE woops, sorry, IZZY & STEDE FRIENDSHIP ARC!!!

SO FINAL THOUGHTS: 

Things I didn’t like:

Dislike how we glosses over the discussion of a poly/open relationship for Oluwande and Jim. They both thought eachother were dead, so it doesn’t give me the ick as I bet some will. But the way Jim joked about it still felt wrong.

Glossing over Lucius’ trauma a bit with the puppet joke. I found it a bit in poor taste. 

The fact Izzy is on the episode ‘cover’ for episode 3 on Max, revealing he didn’t kill himself in ep2. I forgot about it midway in, but remembered it on rewatch. Like? IDK

The lack of content warnings, I get it, but damn the suicidal ideation stuff +mania episode+ abuse hit hard. 

It went by a bit quick, but they wrote themselves in a corner. The slow building dread of Ed being a dick, vs Stede just working at Jackie's to get money. So they started when everything was falling apart. AND they need to get The Queen and the Prince established. Judging by the next few episodes, hopefully it will slow down. I prefer this to skipping those things, obviously. But I was much more interested in Ed’s side of the story than Stede's.

Things I do like/Standouts:

Hi Con O’Neill. Can you start paying rent the way you live in my head? Seriously, every scene Izzy is in he steals it. I assume people are a bit peeved that Izzy is getting more attention than Olu&Frenchie&Jim & whatever other character a person likes. But I really think they sewed it in well. Seriously, it’s heartbreaking, and everything I could have asked for. I Love Every Delivery. I see these episodes as enough to turn people slightly sympathetic if they were haters of Izzy before.

ALSO: IZZY SAVING THE CREW. Putting himself in danger FIRST so he doesn't hurt anyone? Jim immediately seeing this and trusting him in the future. I can’t wait to see friendship bloom between him and the crew. That and Izzy's own self destructive habits get broken down as he learns to respect himself outside of hierarchy and Ed. Yes, even like this I want to fuck that man.

Stede- I enjoy that he seems more comfortable with the crew. Especially Pete and Buttons. I don’t have much to say, but I hope this new Izzy training episode means he’ll learn to trust Izzy. Not too much to say, but that's a good thing! Here soon instead of Ed being the focus of the 'deal with this' stick it will go to Stede 'I'm the captain :(' Bonnet

BUTTONS OH MY GOD- My favorite head canon became canon babes!!! I love it. I’m here for it. He's having a lovely time.

ALSO FRENCHIE!!! Hi babes! I missed you being a clever badass! I'm happy Ed didn't stab you.

Them taking Ed’s issues seriously. We got hints of addiction/abusive behavior last season, but they took that and ran with it. Add that to self destrictive behavior that scales up with every scene. Plus the one line from Lucius about how some people can’t be fixed…good stuff, I like how we're handling mental health. I’m not happy with him, but we have time. Taika clearly had fun. I also see myself in his mania and self-sabotaging behavior (non violent, but still wish washy moods for my part)

That and Izzy/Ed being what it is… I believe that Ed genuinely loves Izzy the only way he can, but it’s not enough. He can’t love Izzy the way he needs. Ed needs to apologize, obviously. I won’t be able to forgive him ‘till then. I don’t think Izzy should until he’s able to pull away from him a bit. 

Let's just say I can't wait till next week when we get lesbians and one of my favorite tropes.

(@ing mutuals I know have seen it that I would love to yell with @gydima @born-on-a-beach-teach @treesofgreen BUT do feel free to shout down below!!!)

[umbry-fic]

With Love (2)

Summary:

Over a thousand miles of distance and letter after heartfelt letter, Colette learns to love.

Fandom: Tales of Symphonia

Characters: Colette Brunel, Lloyd Irving

Relationships: Colette Brunel & Lloyd Irving

Rating: T

Chapter: 2 of 3 (Prev | Next)

Word Count: 9928

Mirror Link: AO3

Original Post Date: 13/06/2024

Chapter Title: Then

Notes:

The bulk of the chapter is here! Featuring queerplatonic crushes, platonic crushes, not-so-platonic crushes, and a whole lot of letters. (Don't question how they're being delivered I did not think that much about it.)

~~~

Stem after thin stem, she wove together the freshly picked forget-me-nots lying in the basket before her. Brows furrowed and teeth worrying at her lip, she watched as the shape of the delicate flower crown began to form in her lap.

“Colette!”

She jumped, the almost-done flower crown fluttering to the gentle slope beneath her, her errant hands upsetting the entire basket until her feet were covered in soft blue.

Righting the basket, she began to pile flowers back in, Lloyd joining her as he apologised for startling her, even as she waved off his apologies.

“Done with whatever punishment Professor Raine concocted for you?” she asked. A few beads of sweat still clung to Lloyd’s forehead from whatever it was their teacher had made him do for falling asleep in class for the umpteenth time. Professor Raine could strike terror into the hearts of her students without even trying.

“That was the most boring two hours of my life,” he groaned, carefully placing the final stray flowers into the basket before dramatically flopping onto his back. Looking as if he didn’t have a single care in the world, he rested his head on his arms and gazed lazily at the fluffy white clouds that drifted across the perfect summer sky.

Giggling, she resumed her previous task, shifting closer to him. “Maybe you should try to listen more, then?”

He hummed softly, turning his head to look at her, something in his expression making her pause and turn her full attention to him. The sunlight fell through his hair, turning it almost golden brown - she wanted, more than anything, to run her hands through it and discover if it was as soft as it seemed. She kept her hands to herself, though, trying in vain to quash that strange current of warmth that swam through her veins whenever she was in his company.

“Janet mentioned something to me today. She said that since we already spend all of our time together, we might as well kiss and get it over with.”

“Do you want to?” she asked, careful to keep her voice steady even as her heart sped up. Perhaps this might answer the questions that had plagued her for the past few weeks, refusing to leave her alone. That thought brought with it both a sense of relief and a rush of fear, emotions that she quickly banished to the depths of her heart.

“I don’t mind.” The answer rolled from him easily, and she nodded, wondering if this would finally put an identity to the nameless emotion that awoke in her sometimes when she held his hand, their fingers interlaced, his palm warm against hers.

But when he gently pressed his lips against hers, she felt nothing. There were no sparks, not like the fairytales described. The prince was supposed to rescue the princess from her castle and free her from her imprisonment with a passionate kiss, a promise of a life to be spent together, filled end-to-end with nothing but wonder. It was a daydream that certainly wouldn't come true - nothing could save her from her pre-ordained fate, but it had been something small to cling to during moments when despair had threatened to overwhelm her. It had just been thoroughly dashed against the rocks, shattering into tiny shards that had no hope of being put back together into something salvageable.

The suspicions she had only allowed herself to admit in the dark of night where no one was there to overhear her were beginning to be confirmed - it didn’t seem like what she felt was what the scriptures described as love. It certainly wasn’t all-encompassing, and neither was there any accompanying desire that she had to resist.

But there wasn’t any point in getting lost in all of these questions, was there? It wasn’t like she would need to worry about any of this, not with the little time she had left to simply be Colette Brunel and not the Chosen.

“Hm,” Lloyd mumbled when he pulled away. “I don’t think we need to do that again.”

She blinked, resuming her weaving. “I agree.”

“Honestly, I don’t get the point,” he grumbled, waving his hand in the air. “What’s so special about all… that?” His voice held not a hint of uncertainty as he easily stated his disinterest in what was, to most people, one of the most vital parts of life.

It’s the fairytale ending, she wanted to say. But the words died in her throat, and she only shrugged, the truth she had never told anyone spilling out. “I don’t know either." Perhaps one day she would, but that day was not today. "But… I do think I want to get married.”

She never would get that fairytale ending - she would never wear a beautiful white dress, would never get married standing under an arch with her favourite flowers decorating it, would never get the chance to plan something so elaborate and see all the parts come together as her efforts came to fruition…

He was watching her again, with those warm russet eyes, his next words said with an unshakeable conviction, as if things truly were that straightforward. “If you want to, then you should.”

That encouraging warmth was enough to plant the seeds of courage within her, leading her to blurt out something she’d barely even let herself think, afraid to admit it to herself. “Well, I’d want to marry you.”

It was a strange thing to say to someone she’d just sworn off ever kissing again, but it was also, inexplicably, true. She still had no answers to any of the questions that swirled around in her head, asking herself what exactly she felt for him. But she would have liked to marry him, had it been possible, and in doing so entrust a part of herself to him, knowing he would protect that little piece of her with everything that he had.

He grinned, then, seeming to light up the space around them both with the power of the sun. “I’d get married to you too. Let’s make it a promise, then. I’ll marry you in the future, and you’ll get to have the wedding of your dreams.”

She didn’t answer, gently placing the completed flower crown on his head, letting the soft blue bloom among the brown. It was a promise that couldn’t be kept - there would only be a funeral wreath waiting for her at the end of her path. But it was a beautiful dream, one that she could perhaps indulge in on nights when she did not wish to fall asleep to the salt of tears.

Her fingers lingered, and she smiled to herself. It was as soft as she’d thought it’d be.

“I’m gonna go make one for Genis too,” she declared, standing and picking up the basket.

“Have fun!” he called after her, waving goodbye.

~~~

The first time she saw Sheena, really saw her, it felt like the world screeched to a halt, narrowing until all Colette could see was her.

Sheena had just broken her way through the wall that was separating her from their group, having painstakingly dragged herself through the mines to intercept them on the other side of the pass. Cards gripped in hand, Corinne balanced on her shoulder, she had fallen into a battle stance. There had been dirt smudged across her cheeks and a cut bleeding shallowly on her forehead, but her amber eyes shone clear, burning with determination.

Colette had been so distracted in that battle that Kratos had to drag her out of the path of direct danger twice before snapping at her to stay back if she was only going to get herself killed.

Oh, she’d thought in a daze by the campfire that night. Maybe this is…?

When she pleaded with the mysterious girl to accompany them to the ranch, part of it was for the reasons Lloyd had confidently stated. There was no point in fighting if they were not enemies, and she had no desire to hurt anyone - that was not the purpose of this journey she had set out on. But there was a tiny, selfish wish tucked behind those impassioned words. A hope that this girl who radiated determination could become her friend, ushering in a new, unexplored part of her life.

When Sheena joined their party for good, Colette finally got to know her. She was kind, loyal, and sometimes so terrified of something looming over her that she refused to share that her shoulders shook and she screwed her eyes shut, but she forced her way through it anyway because she was brave in a way Colette would never be. It was something she could not help but admire - Sheena truly did shine with a light that could not be put out, no matter how much the world tried to do so.

And she was gorgeous. Hair dark as midnight that she rarely let down, but allowed Colette to comb her fingers through on nights she’s too tired to deal with it herself. Amber eyes that were equal measures kind and playful, burning with a raging fire whenever she witnessed an injustice. Tanned skin that flushed whenever Colette so much as smiled at her.

She loved spending time with her, swapping childhood stories until the campfire ran cold, but the emotions beating in her heart were, once again, not the ones that had been described to her all her life, from the sweet words of fairytales to the severely inked pages of the scriptures. It was certainly different from what she felt around Lloyd - that was a steady, gentle flame, perfect for spending the night by, its warmth slowly spreading through one’s bones. This was more of a playful flame, jumping and leaping and never lacking in excitement, but it still didn’t seem sufficient for the never-ending, all-consuming wildfire that love was supposed to be, enough for one to give all of oneself away. She could only ever manage little slices of her heart - clasped in her and Sheena’s hands by the campfire, stored in the gentle strokes of Lloyd’s fingers through her hair as she let her head rest in his lap, seeping into the stew that she helped Genis stir, curled in the sheepish smile she gave Professor Raine when she had to ask for help with her homework, floating with the thanks she gave to Kratos on nights that stretched on without end. It would never be enough.

Despite what she’d said to Lloyd years ago, the disappointment still crashed over her each night as they got closer to the tower looming in the distance, bitter on her tongue as she sat awake, counting the stars that glimmered in the sky above. It had been the truth - she didn’t understand the weight everyone seemed to put on romance, but she had hoped to perhaps understand it more by the time she took her final steps up the stairway that led to the heavens, to experience something that all the other normal girls did.

But perhaps a Chosen like her, who would waste her time fretting over such trifling matters, didn’t deserve to enjoy an emotion so pure.

~~~

When her world failed to end in the Tower of Salvation, Colette’s life became incredibly hectic for a while - discovering truths that irrevocably altered her perception of herself and the world, guiltily hiding secrets behind fake smiles and trembling hands, racing against the clock to save a separated world that was rapidly hurtling towards destruction. Throughout the mad rush, there wasn’t much time to rest, and the unanswered questions that persistently hounded her were mercifully silent.

And then she and Lloyd were standing in front of a fragile sapling imbued with all the world’s hopes, swearing a vow to its guardian that they would protect it and do their part in cultivating a world where it could thrive.

Suddenly, gone were all the deadlines that had hung over her head like a guillotine, fading away into dust as if they had never been there in the first place, and she had all the time in the world to think. During the quiet moments of her journey with Lloyd around the rejoined world - staring out an inn’s window and enjoying the early morning breeze on her face, dozing off with her head resting on his shoulder and his cape carefully draped over her, walking uninterrupted through the shade of the forest with her fingers interlaced with his - she mulled over the same questions she had asked herself since the age of fourteen. It felt like she was stumbling blindly, her path to the answers that had eluded her shrouded in a thick fog that refused to part for her.

What was it that she truly felt for Lloyd? And what is it that he felt for her? She wasn’t blind - she caught the way he looked at her, different from everyone else. The way his gaze softened, the small smile that would never fail to appear when he took her hand, thumbs tenderly brushing over her knuckles. There was an easy warmth to their interactions - hands on the shoulder, fingers calmingly combing through strands of hair after a long day, falling asleep curled up together - it all came to them naturally, little touches here and there and everywhere.

It should have been a simple task, to open her mouth and ask him a question, knowing he would answer her kindly with the truth. But now that she had an entire unexplored life winding out in front of her, she found that fear had sewn her lips shut, the words like barbed thorns catching in her throat. He had said it himself, that he had no real interest in romance or anything of the sort, and neither did she garner the same appreciative glances she sometimes caught him throwing people they passed on the street. It wasn’t jealousy that held her back - it was a deep-rooted fear that she wouldn’t be enough. If she hadn’t been good enough so many times in the past, why wouldn’t it happen here as well? There was a thread tied around her heart that pulled her towards him, but she didn't wish to ensnare him with it, trapping him with the promise they had made.

Guilt accumulated in her soul all the while, for defying the rules that society had arbitrarily set for her. She had been raised all of her life with the message that she should be the shining exemplar of everything the Church preached, and even thinking of actively straying from those teachings was enough for panic to dig its insidious claws deep into her skin, forcing tears into her eyes as she shied away from the very thought. She knew she was being silly - it had all been based on a lie, and there was certainly no chance of Lloyd ever caring about any of these things. She had nothing to fear from him. But with each day spent by his side, she couldn’t bear the vulnerability of tearing out her beating heart and exposing it to him. The potent mix of guilt and fear kept her quiet, and two years passed by like sand falling through her fingers, the frigid knowledge of her unease settling in her chest like a weight. Even without a word, Lloyd probably already knew. He’d always known her the best - but he didn’t push, simply treated her the same, gently soothing her heart.

Sometimes, she wished dearly that she could possess the ability Lloyd had to believe whole-heartedly in one’s own ideals, remaining steadfast regardless of what others said or did to influence him, uncaring of what the rest of the world thought.

Sitting on the porch of the house she had grown up in, she took a deep breath, enjoying the unbroken silence of Iselia, still awaiting the rising of the sun before the villagers would rub the sleep from their eyes and push themselves from bed to go about their daily routines. She hadn’t realised how much she’d missed the sleepy bubble of her hometown - it had taken a week, the longest she’d spent here since she’d left on that fateful day after the arrival of the Oracle - for the feeling to strike her, square in the chest.

Just last night, Lloyd had said a hasty farewell to her to her and rushed off towards his father’s place. They had finally completed their mission to collect all the Exspheres, and yet another crossroads lay before them. The light in Lloyd’s eyes as they’d travelled had told her all she needed to know about the path he would decide to take. With each new sight, the infectious wonder infused into his every action had only grown, and she knew he would never run out of places to explore in this wide, wide world. He had always been a little stifled in this village, buried under the weight of studies he couldn’t understand and people who didn’t want to put in the effort to let him in. Out in the world, he could wander to his heart’s content, he could discover locations they had only ever heard about in exaggerated tales, he could offer help to anyone he came across who needed it. He belonged out there, a child of curiosity through and through - he’d found his answer, and she couldn’t be happier for him.

But where did she belong?

This wasn’t a decision he could make for her. He’d simply squeezed her hand before he’d left, and told her to think about it. There had been no judgement in his words, just a quiet understanding of the choice she would make.

Tapping her fingers against the floorboards, the clicking of her nails against wood accompanied her as she observed the village come alive with the sun, the familiar sounds she’d woken up to almost every day of her life bringing a smile to her face. Even with her eyes closed, she could see everything that was happening vividly against her eyelids. Villagers tending to the grapevines, checking that the fruits were growing plump and healthy. Children talking loudly amongst each other as they rushed towards the schoolhouse, not wanting to be late. Shopkeepers setting up, observing their wares and setting up signs.

No matter what, she would always, always love Iselia.

And so, she made her decision, realising that the answer had always been on the tip of her tongue.

There was no shock colouring Lloyd’s expression when she made the careful journey across the river to Dirk’s and told him that she was going to stay. Perhaps he’d been expecting it, for sometimes it really did feel like he knew her better than she knew herself. He didn’t question her or attempt to change her mind. Instead, he spent the night with her over cups of coffee, camped out on his rooftop for old time’s sake, naming the stars until she fell asleep with her head pillowed on his thigh.

She needed the time to be… just herself, on her own. To figure herself out - what she wanted, who she was, what she felt. And she had missed Iselia deeply. Her destiny was simply not that of a wanderer.

On the day he was to set out again, she met him at the gate, preparing to see him off.

“I’ll come visit,” he promised, pulling her into a tight embrace.

There was a little bit of sadness clinging to her words as she told him goodbye, but it wasn’t as bad as she’d thought it would be. Her heart clenched for a single painful moment, but it did not break. It wasn’t as if she’d never see him again. This wasn’t farewell, she had more faith in him than to think that way.

Leaning forward, he whispered into her ear, his breath tickling her skin. “Take as long as you need, Colette.”

Unspoken, hidden in the encouraging squeeze of his hand as he stepped back, was a vow to wait.

She pressed something into his open palm - a forget-me-not, that she’d spent the night before pressing between paper to ensure it turned out perfect. A small part of her to keep on him, a little piece of her heart for him to carry.

“I’ll write,” she promised in return, waving until her arm ached as she watched his back disappear down the dusty road she had once set off down herself, back before everything changed.

~~~

Dear Lloyd,

It feels a little strange to be writing a letter. The last one I wrote was the one I sent to my family before I approached the final seal. Sometimes it’s hard to believe that it’s been more than two years since then. So much has changed.

How are things going on your end? What town have you found yourself in now? Or are you spending most of your time on the road? Are there any interesting sights? What about people? I’m sorry for the torrent of questions, but I’d love to hear anything you have to share. I hope you’re having fun.

And have you met any new dogs? I’m sure there are many more adorable doggies out there in the world that we didn’t run into, just waiting to be found!

As for me, I’m settling back into Iselia and slowly getting used to life here again. The townsfolk were happy to see me, though they’re still keeping me at arms-length. It’s a lot like how they used to treat me in the past, leaving me on the outskirts. It stings, a little, that they’re avoiding me. It sort of makes me feel like nothing has changed at all. But I suppose they have no clue how to treat me, just like back then. Even father and grandmother seem a little lost now that I’m here for good again. No one expected me to return once I stepped foot outside the gate.

But enough of being a downer! I’m going to work on it! Most of the people here never really knew me past my title, so I’ll make sure they learn who I am from now on. Just Colette, their normal next-door neighbour. It’s a pipe dream, I know. They’ll never really be able to forget that I was once the Chosen. But nothing’s going to change unless I try.

Still, it’s wonderful to be back. It’s been nice to be able to stand in my garden again. Father took good care of it while I was gone, but there’s nothing more calming than tending to the plants. I find that it helps to clear my mind and keep me grounded. And watching the flowers bloom after hours of hard work brings me so much joy. I would like to thank you again for all the hours you spent helping me out with the garden.

I was thinking of helping out at the schoolhouse. A really nice teacher from Luin took over after Professor Raine left and she’s swamped. While there is no way I’m assisting with the actual teaching, I could help with the children. And maybe in the future, I could take some of the classes like arts and crafts. It would be something to do with my time now that it’s not all occupied by prayer readings.

Also, just a random thought, but I suppose we should stop calling her Professor Raine? That would be incredibly strange, however!

I think that’s all I wanted to write about. I’m not sure when this letter will reach you, but I hope it does.

You’re always welcome to visit, at any time.

With Love,

Colette

Colette

The words started out shaky, indentations showing where the nib of the pen pressed sharply against the paper. Eventually, the lines and curves calmed, and the sentences began to flow easily, each letter neatly drawn. Until the end, where a few of the words were scrawled over with markings so black that they were impossible to decipher. The letter was folded, unfolded, and folded again before it was finally mailed out by trembling hands.

~~~

Colette,

I don’t think I’ve written a letter since that one lesson where Professor Raine taught us how to do so. The details elude me, but I’m fairly certain that lesson ended with me in detention and Genis had something to do with it. And you’re right. We probably should stop calling her Professor Raine, no matter how strange it feels. Maybe we can do it slowly?

I received your letter in Palmacosta, and I’m still here while I write this reply. The last of the damage was repaired since the last time we were here. It’s impressive just how much they’ve managed to rebuild in just six months. I’ve been exploring the new parts of town, mapping out its nooks and crannies and browsing the new stalls. And guess what! I bumped into Chocolat and we spent a very pleasant afternoon catching up. She sends her regards, and says she hopes to visit Iselia some day soon.

Also, there’s a new dog! I’m fairly certain it’s not one we’ve encountered before. It doesn’t have the collars we made for all the other dogs we’ve met. I asked the townsfolk, and they said it wandered into town a few weeks ago and has been popping up in different places since then. I don’t have the best grasp of words, so I’ll send you a little drawing of it. I’m sure that’ll do a better job than any description I could attempt. As per tradition, you can tell me what to name them in your next letter.

About Iselia, I’m glad to hear you’re settling back in, and I hope you enjoy every day that is to come to the fullest. As for the villagers, there’s not much I can do from here but provide you with my encouragement. The way they’ve treated you has always rubbed me the wrong way, but I know this is your battle to fight. And I believe you can do it. You just need to show them what you’ve shown me. Beneath all that nonsense about your title, you’re just a normal person like anyone else, and once they understand that, I’m certain they’ll let you in.

Looking forward to receiving your next letter!

Love,

Lloyd

The paper was crinkled, and it carried the salty scent of the ocean, invoking the image of waves lapping lazily against sand. The words were nothing more than messy scratches, yet still able to be deciphered by their desired recipient, who knew that handwriting by heart. At the bottom of the paper was a sketch of a dog - an adorable little thing standing on cobblestones, the curious cock of its head captured perfectly. The letter is carefully folded and tucked away in a drawer, to be cherished.

~~~

Dear Lloyd,

Thank you for keeping the tradition alive! I think I’ll name the dog

“Colette.”

“Hm?” She looked up from her desk, letting her pen fall slack against the wood as she spotted her father hovering in the doorway. “Oh, Father! Sorry, I didn’t realise you were there. Come in.”

Her father walked in through the open door, seating himself on the edge of her bed. His smile now was a lot less stiff than it had been in the month and a half since she’d returned home - it was warmer, less tentative. She’d made sure to include herself in the activities her family conducted: weeding in the garden with father, baking pies with grandmother, visiting the orchard to pluck ripe apples. Insistently pushing and pushing until she’d knocked down their walls, and they stopped turning their heads to look at her like she would disappear in the next instance.

“I did knock on the door multiple times.”

Cheeks flushing with embarrassment, she ducked her head. “Sorry. I just got engrossed with writing letters.”

“To Lloyd?” The hard tone of his voice made her freeze, wondering what he was about to ask.

He was leaning forward now, hands steepled awkwardly together, hesitantly stringing his next words together. “It’s just… I thought you two were…”

“Oh.” The sigh rushed out of her, taking with it the weight of her nervousness. While her mission to integrate herself with the other villagers was still in its early stages, some of them had started involving her in casual conversations, bringing her into the fold in a way she’d never experienced in this village outside of her previously small circle of friends. It did, however, afford some of the bolder ones the opportunity to ask her the same question her father was currently stumbling over. Honestly, after the tenth time of being on the receiving end of it, she was starting to dread hearing even the beginning of it. It was exasperating to have to explain the same thing over and over again to people who didn’t seem to want to accept the truth she had to tell, repeatedly spinning the words and contorting their meaning to support their own perceptions. “No, Father, we didn’t suffer a messy break-up or anything of the sort. We were never in love. Not in that way.”

With the clarity of distance, it was much easier to prod at her own emotions without needing to panic over Lloyd's presence right next to her. While she’d been certain before that they’d never be in love - not in the way love had been described to her all of her life - it was easier to say with conviction now.

Whether or not she loved him in another way, she hadn’t yet agreed on.

“Oh.” Her father sounded relieved, if a little dumbstruck, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. But he didn’t refute her like others had, which was a vast improvement. Even if he couldn’t understand right now, he didn’t question her, which was much appreciated. “That’s, uh… That’s good to hear. I’m sorry for asking.”

“It’s fine, father.” The tiny nugget of frustrated rage in her chest was hard to hold onto when she knew her father was coming from a place of care, afraid that she’d retreated here because of the pain of a broken heart in order to pick up the pieces. Still, it was good that she’d corrected his misconception before it could spiral out of control.

Her father had not yet straightened up, seemingly preparing himself for another difficult question. “I do have to ask, though. Are you… truly happy here?”

She thought for a moment, rolling her pen between her fingers. She did miss Lloyd, but not in the violent way she had when she’d first left Iselia, her heart aching like it would shatter into a million pieces as she’d cradled the memory of him close, sure she would never see him again. That had been an open, bleeding wound that she'd been convinced wouldn't ever heal, while this was a scabbed-over injury. More of a gentle tug - a desire to see him again, no matter when that would be, simmering in her heart. And while her happiness here was still a bud, not yet bloomed, she was certain she could cultivate it into a beautiful flower.

“Yes, father. I am happy here.”

“That’s… that’s good.” Her father finally stood, clapping her on the shoulder. “Also, your grandmother asked me to tell you that the priests want to see you next week.”

She didn’t manage to answer him before he left the room, the last words he’d left her with sinking into her mind. Before she’d realised it, her hands were clenched into fists that she gently pried apart, wincing at the pale crescent moons she’d left in her palms. In the past two years, she hadn’t so much as stepped into a Church, and she knew her father hadn’t been attending service either, because they were both home during the times that they should be faithfully praying, calmly having tea. It was the largest source of tension in their reunited family - Grandmother always frowned whenever she failed to convince the two of them to go, before reluctantly shuffling out the door.

Her complicated emotions regarding the religion that had been part of her life for as long as she could remember had yet to be unravelled, and she knew she couldn’t run away forever. As she put her pen back to paper, she considered if it was time to start pulling apart the layers and unearthing the core of the issue, confronting it head-on.

~~~

Dear Lloyd,

Thank you for telling me about the sakura grove! That sounds really beautiful, I’d love to visit it someday. Thank you as well for the sakura flowers. I’ll be sure to cherish them.

You know how I mentioned that the priests wanted to meet me a few letters ago? I put it off for a while, but I finally built up the courage to go yesterday.

The only way to describe the experience was strange. The place was both familiar and foreign. Almost nothing had changed even after two years, but the atmosphere felt different. I suppose I no longer feel the same pressure to be perfect once I step foot in there. The standards I was once held to no longer apply.

The priests didn’t exactly look pleased that I’d dawdled for so long, but honestly, they couldn’t have done anything even if I’d decided to never show up, so it didn’t bother me too much. Even if they'd tried to scold me like they had in the past, it wouldn’t have had much effect. I know now that there are much scarier things than the priests, and things that matter much more than their approval.

As for what they wanted, they were trying to invite me to take up some sort of role in the Church. Despite publicly renouncing my status as Chosen, they must think I still hold enough sway to act as a figurehead. Unfortunately, that’s the very opposite of what I want. If I do that, I’m never going to escape from the shadow of my title. I don’t want people to listen to me just because they think I hold the Goddess’ favour. I want to talk to people as an equal.

They weren’t happy that I turned them down, but there’s nothing they can say to change my mind. This is an issue I’m not budging on. Trying to tell me that the Goddess would have been disappointed that I’m turning my back on her is certainly not going to be effective when I know the Goddess doesn’t even really exist. And from what I know of Martel, she certainly wouldn’t have thought that way.

But I think I’ll attend the next service. Once the priests had left me alone, I found that I didn’t really mind wandering around the temple. Honestly, I’ve kinda missed its peaceful quiet.

What do you think?

Hoping to hear from you soon,

Colette

Placed next to the folded pile of letters is a notebook, its pages mostly empty. Nestled behind the front cover are sweet-smelling sakura blossoms, gently pasted onto white.

~~~

The temple was silent now. Moments before it had hummed with the energy of the service, heads bowed as people were united in prayer, their collective harmonious voice rising and falling to reach the high ceiling. The last of the stragglers - a child, waving goodbye to her as they were gently tugged along by their parents - had left through the large doors to continue with their day.

Leaving Colette sitting in one of the pews near the back, eyes closed as she soaked in the peaceful quiet. She’d drifted into the temple in the middle of the small crowd, neatly avoiding most curious gazes and ducking into a pew. She hadn’t attracted too much attention, thankfully, and the villagers who had noticed her had done nothing more than flash her a friendly smile. The priests had filed neatly out after the service had ended, their gazes sliding off her as disgruntled frowns overtook their faces.

She opened her eyes to watch dust motes dance through the air, tracing their paths as her thoughts wandered, her mind calm as it always was in this place. She’d spent so many hours of her childhood here, studying over heavy books of the faith’s text, a priest sharply watching her to ensure she didn’t skive off. Back then, this had seemed like such a cold place, her heart shrivelling every time a priest chided her for failing at something, glaring at her with heavy disappointment. She had jumped with joy every time she had left through the doors to find Lloyd on the other side, shuffling his feet in the dirt as he’d waited for her.

Now, however, with nothing being asked of her, she could simply enjoy the beauty of the temple without any pressure. While it no longer gave off the impression it was going to fall apart at any moment, the cracks in the wall having finally been repaired, it certainly couldn’t hold a candle to the Meltokian chapel, with its impressive collection of stained glass windows that painted the floor in a myriad of rainbow colours. The temple didn’t possess such grandiose beauty - but it was a place she knew like the back of her hand, comforting in its familiarity and affording an uninterrupted calm. There was a timelessness to it. It had stood for centuries and felt like it would continue to do so into eternity, providing a refuge to all who needed it.

She hadn’t realised how much she’d missed the warmth of service until she was in the middle of it. That sense of everyone’s hearts being united in prayer as the soft sunlight filtered down on them was one she’d sorely missed for the past two years, all her troubles melting away as she lost herself in the magic of it once more, almost as if she’d never left.

There had been many a sleepless night she'd spent thinking about the Goddess, not wanting to wake Lloyd up as he slept soundly next to her, their limbs entangled. While the Goddess Martel was never real, the woman had been - a living, breathing person who had once walked these very same lands. She’d been brave, and kind, bearing a love for this world that had burned so bright, refusing to flicker out even in her final moments. Those were qualities Colette could still believe in, could still work towards trying to embody in every waking moment. Even if she couldn’t faithfully follow everything she’d been taught to believe… Well, there was nothing more blasphemous than realising the Goddess wasn’t real, was there? In comparison, everything else seemed silly.

It was a quiet realisation that came to her suddenly on a normal day like any other, inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. But in that instant, it felt like everything had shifted. She stood shakily, thrown a little off-balance, and gently trailed one finger across the back of the pew in front of her.

“I think… I think the way I love is a little different from everyone else,” she whispered under her breath, her words being swallowed by the boundless silence as her heart thundered in her ears.

There was no judgement, no condemnation from above, nothing to tell her that she’d sinned in some way. The world didn’t end, the river of time continuing to flow unbothered after her confession. She smiled to herself, sweeping from the aisle and out of the temple, a weight having been lifted from her chest.

~~~

Colette,

That was incredibly brave of you, to accept the Church back into your life after all the grief it’s caused you. You’re a better person than I could ever be, I could never do that. But I’m glad to hear you’ve made peace with it, and that you sound happier.

Also, you’re moving into your own place? That’s exciting! I’m certain you’ll make it a wonderful place to live. A place that’s all you - kind and inviting. I can’t wait to see it one day.

By the way, I bumped into Raine in Triet - she was staying there for the week to wait for Genis. In the meantime, she was exploring the ruins again to try and find a rumoured secret room, so I accompanied her to help her out. We didn’t find anything, but she didn’t seem discouraged. I wonder if she’ll still be eagerly looking for new discoveries even a century from now. I can’t imagine her ever changing.

I told her about how you plan to move over the next two weeks and she said she’d love to help, so expect her and Genis sometime soon! (Or maybe this letter will arrive after them? That’ll certainly be amusing.)

Love,

Lloyd

~~~

Colette placed yet another heavy box on the small, round table sitting in the middle of the room before stretching to loosen the muscles in her back. Raine and Genis had helped her efficiently pack everything she needed into manageable boxes, but Colette had insisted on carrying them over herself and doing the unpacking on her own. There were some perks to angelic strength, after all, and she didn’t want the siblings to exert themselves unnecessarily. Until the house was in a presentable state, they were both banned from the place. Raine had decided to spend her time once more exploring the underdepths of the temple, and had dragged a disgruntled Genis along.

The house she’d managed to secure was one of the few new ones that had been built now that more people were flowing into Iselia. It was likely never going to become a large, bustling town like Palmacosta, tucked away into a corner of the continent behind a desert as it was, but it was slowly growing. Dirk had been busy for the past few months, and he’d happily handed over the place to her and given her quite the enthusiastic tour.

It was certainly a smaller place than what would now be solely her father and grandmother’s house, but that suited her just fine. The furniture was sturdy but cosy, and the garden was expansive - perfect for all the plants she could already imagine planting there, just waiting to set down their roots in the soil and thrive. The house was already shaping up to be lovely. She just needed to get everything out of the boxes and into their rightful places. There was a lot of work ahead of her, but she was looking forward to it.

Opening up the first one, her fingers ghosted over crinkled paper, and she pulled out a stack of letters. They showed lines where they had been folded and unfolded countless times, lovingly handled, the words read many times over on late nights with a cup of coffee in hand and the moon for company.

A smile playing on her lips, she placed them on the shelf before reaching into the box to see what was next. A small stack of books emerged, and she stared at the familiar titles printed in cursive on the colourful covers. She knew most of their contents by heart, considering the number of times she’d devoured the tales with Lloyd or Genis curiously reading over her shoulder, flipping yellowed page after yellowed page. They had once been an escape - a glimpse into another life that was nothing more than an empty possibility.

Pursing her lips, she placed the stack of fairytales next to the letters, gently brushing off the thin layer of dust they had begun to gather from the years she had left them ignored. Perhaps some night soon, she might gain the courage to revisit them - to read those happy endings and envision her own, untethered from what anyone might expect of her.

~~~

Dear Lloyd,

The move went well. Like you said, Raine and Genis showed up. Actually, they showed up only a few hours after your letter, so I guess you beat them! Just barely. I gave ample thanks to the horses on your behalf - they really loved the carrots I’ve been growing.

I’m still getting used to the fact that I have my own place now. Some days, I wake up confused as to why I’m not in my old bedroom. And some evenings, I find that my feet carry me from the schoolhouse to my childhood home. But I’m slowly but surely getting used to it, and every day I fall more in love with this place. It’s just so cosy!

And the new garden is truly lovely. There’s so much space! I decided not to transplant most of the plants I was already growing, since Father loves tending to them too. But I brought over one sprig of forget-me-nots and got to work introducing some new life to the soil. I won’t spoil what I’ve planted! When you see them, you get to guess what they are. If you were paying attention to any of the times I gave you a tour of my old garden, then I’m sure you’ll pass with flying colours.

To end this letter, I have to share what happened yesterday. It was Saturday, and I had been invited to tea by a few of the other girls in town. (The biscuits were delicious.) When I returned home, I found the place packed to the brim with eighteen young children. They were almost spilling out the door! The rascals decided to throw me a surprise housewarming party, and they even made me a gift together. The entire thing was really cute, but I do have an orange juice stain on the wall that I don’t think is ever coming off. Well, I suppose it contributes to the spirit!

Love,

Colette

The bottom of the paper ended in jagged edges. Crumped into a ball and thrown into the wastebasket was the missing segment with only a single sentence written on it.

I think I just need a little bit more time.

~~~

Colette,

The impromptu party the children threw for you sounds really cute. They even made you a gift! You’ve wormed your way into their little hearts, haven’t you? They adore you!

Recently, I visited Meltokio, and Zelos gave me a tour of the brand-new section of the royal garden. There’s a massive fountain with a beautiful sculpture of a swan with its wings outstretched, overlooking a hedge maze that turned me around multiple times until I admitted defeat. It reminded me of the garden in that fairytale about the boy and the swan - your favourite, that we used to read together all the time. I think you’d really love this place, so I hope one day we can visit it together.

Love,

Lloyd

There’s a simple drawing of a swan with a young boy crouched next to it, stroking its feathers with care - a scene taken directly from the story, vividly brought to life. A single book was taken from the shelf that night, and she fell asleep with it in her lap, a cheerful fire crackling in the fireplace.

~~~

“Oh, this is adorable,” Sheena exclaimed, gently picking up the colourful assortment of pipe cleaners that were twisted to form the approximate shape of the head of a dog, before setting it back down by the nondescript black book on the mantelpiece. “The children made this for you?”

“They did.” Colette nodded, her forget-me-not earrings shaking with the motion. They were a gift from Presea, each delicate petal carved out of wood, presented to her when she and Regal had visited last week. “Can’t believe they spent two weeks of art lessons making this and managed to keep it hidden from me.”

“Impressive sneaking skills,” Sheena commented, pulling out a chair at the table and sitting down next to her.

It was a strange sight - Sheena standing in her house, wearing a simple dress that flowed around her knees, instead of her usual outfit, her hair falling freely down her back. She’d felt more like a ghost than a concrete presence for the past two years, busy as she was with Mizuho’s move and unable to share its new location until the entire village had been secured. It had been a shock to open the door after a series of unhurried knocks to find her beaming on the doorstep.

They’d spent a wonderful morning catching up over slices of the cake Colette had baked yesterday, before she had suggested changing into matching sundresses. Mostly as a joke, for she’d been certain Sheena would never agree. To her absolute shock, Sheena had readily done so and was now striding around the place, gazing curiously at everything - the books stacked on the shelves, the vines crawling up the outside of the window, the various potted plants scattered around, happily soaking up sunlight.

Mercifully, she did not peek at the letters, keeping a safe distance from them. The suspicious orange stain on the wall had warranted nothing more than a raised eyebrow. She did huff a laugh at the collection of cups sitting in the kitchen, each one painted with something small to indicate its intended user. A tiny puppy, Noishe’s head with his tongue lolling out of his mouth, a fuzzy paw pad, and so on.

Colette couldn’t tear her gaze away from Sheena, who seemed to be practically glowing with happiness in a way she wouldn't have let herself be years ago when guilt had weighed her down. Up close, she was even more beautiful, a small smile spreading across her face as she laid her hand atop Colette's - no longer a scared girl but a woman who had grown into herself. “It was good seeing you again.”

All of a sudden, her palms were clammy, and she swallowed, knowing what she wanted to say but unable to will the words out of her throat. It was one thing to speak her truth to an empty temple. She had acknowledged that part of herself, but it was a different thing altogether to say it to someone whom she cared about, fear once more squeezing around her neck as she choked on the words. It felt like they had sprouted thorns, catching on the fragile flesh of her throat.

“You know,” Sheena said into the heavy silence Colette had left behind as she quietly panicked, her expression understanding as she squeezed her hand. “I had a crush on you when I first met you.”

“I - wait, sorry, what?” she sputtered, completely caught off guard. Those were not a sequence of words she had ever expected to hear, jolting her heart free from her chest and sending it into free fall.

Sheena wouldn’t meet her gaze now, pale red dusting her cheeks, but she forged on, once more showcasing that blazing courage of hers as she stumbled over words in an absolutely adorable manner. “You were really kind to me even though I’d tried to kill you multiple times. And you are really, really pretty.”

“So are you,” she replied automatically, and Sheena let out a little squeak, raising her hands before dropping them to her lap, giving up on covering her now beet-red face.

“I think I’ll always love you. Not in any special kind of way. I just will,” Sheena said softly, her smile sincere. Her words formed the blanket to catch her free-falling heart, safely cushioning its descent.

Before she knew it, she’d thrown her arms around the other girl, almost sending them both pitching to the floor as she ignored Sheena’s protests. “Thank you,” she whispered breathlessly, holding her beloved friend close, heart swelling with affection that she tried her best to push into her words. “I… Back then, I wanted to be your friend, more than anything in the world, and I don’t think those feelings will ever change. So thank you so much, for doing just that.”

Sheena patted her reassuringly on the back. “It’ll be fine, see?”

Had everyone been able to see the thread tying her and Lloyd together, enduring rain and shine, remaining strong over miles of distance and refusing to fray? It did seem less daunting for her to tell him now that she’d overcome this first hurdle, even if she’d still faltered at the start. She'd managed to get past the finish line with Sheena's encouragement.

“Now, would you like to dance?” Sheena pulled her to her feet, her grin turning cheeky as she did an experimental spin and pulled Colette along.

“Me? I don’t know how! I’d just step on your feet!”

“Don’t worry about that, this isn’t those formal dances Zelos has to suffer through all the time.” Sheena waved off her concerns. “It’s just a bit of fun!”

They spent the rest of the hour twirling around the room “dancing”, miraculously not breaking anything as the room turned into a flurry of flaring skirts. Their shrieks of laughter echoed through the air as they took turns tripping over the furniture and each other, any worries lost in the wild circles they made together.

~~~

Dear Lloyd,

I’m glad you managed to drive back those monsters. It’s worrying to hear that so many strong ones have been seen near the Pass. I know you’re capable of defeating them on your own, but do promise me you’ll be careful and seek help if you need it.

It’s difficult to believe it’s been almost a full year since I’ve returned to Iselia. It’s funny to think that I once thought reuniting the two worlds would be the most change I’d ever see in my life. In a way, it was true, but so much else has changed for me and is continuing to change, even now.

Zelos swung by yesterday afternoon with a bottle of wine, the most recent Meltokian gossip, and information about a gala he’d been practically strong-armed into organising. But I won’t write about it in this letter - there are far too many details. I think I’ll tell you about it in person.

I’m sorry for making you wait so long, but I think I’m finally ready to see you again. I think now, I finally have the courage to say what I’ve wanted to tell you for so long.

I’ll be waiting, until the day we meet again.

Love,

Colette

Her handwriting here was steady and unhurried, a stark contrast to the first letter she wrote. She sucked in a deep breath before sending it, determined to see things through.

~~~

There was a knock on the door, and Colette froze, something in her heart telling her that this was the moment she’d been anticipating with bated breath since she’d sent that last letter. She hadn’t been expecting a reply back - he’d always believed actions spoke louder than words. And so, day after day, she had waited, her faith never wavering.

On the other side of the door was the boy she’d grown up with, a bag casually slung over his shoulder and a well-worn cloak billowing in the wind. A boy who, somewhere along the way, had become a man, knowing well what he wanted to protect and capable of doing so with his own hands.

It was hard to believe that he was standing right there, close enough to touch, after almost a year apart. His tan had deepened a few freckles scattered along the bridge of his nose, his hair long enough to flop into his face even without the rain to weigh it down. But the way he carried himself and the warm smile on his lips was familiar - an image that had been carved deep into her heart long ago, from sweet afternoons spent with her head pillowed on his stomach as he read out loud her favourite tales. Someone who’d been hurt terribly by the world many times over, but who had forgiven time and time again, continuing to bravely reach out his hand and refusing to close off his heart.

“It really is lovely,” he said as she stepped aside silently, allowing him entrance. His gaze wandered around the house, landing on the many pieces of the life she’d built up for herself as their fingers brushed and slotted into place against each other, a motion so ingrained in her that it came as naturally as breathing, even after their time apart.

His hand pressed something into her palm - the same forget-me-not she had given to him when he had first set out. There was not a single blemish on the pale blue petals, the slice of her heart she’d entrusted to him returned in perfect condition.

Tears were pricking at the corners of her eyes, her chest flooding with the emotion she had finally decided to put a name to. Carefully slipping the forget-me-not into a pocket, she raised his hand, her thumb tracing over the new scars and callouses he had collected, warmth travelling down her arm from where they were touching. He said nothing, only waited patiently, giving her all of his attention with soft, encouraging brown.

“I love you,” she whispered, the truth spilling out of her, easier than she thought it would be. The words she’d uttered lingered in the silence, gaining a life of their own and beating their wings with a hidden strength, refusing to fade. They had been true for a long time - perhaps forever, since the day a young boy had comforted a girl crying all alone, not caring a bit who she was. A love that lived in every single one of her breaths, waiting to be revealed like the kind unwrapping of a gift with trembling hands.

Yes, she didn’t love him in the way that most expected of her. He was not her entire world. No, her love for him was quiet. It was cups of coffee passed over a campfire, it was the gentle comfort offered after a nightmare, it was words and drawings and flowers delivered in pieces of parchment imbued with all that they felt. What they had was a bond that could not be broken, no matter how strange it appeared to others. A slice of her heart belonged permanently with him, who knew her best, just as a little piece of her heart belonged to everyone she cherished. Each time he set off, she would give him that piece of her heart again, trusting him to one day return.

She loved him, even if she had never fallen in love with him.

“I love you too.” It’s an easy thing for him to admit, who had likely known it all along. Still, it meant everything to her to hear it from him, as he gently wiped away the tears that had started to roll down her cheeks, tenderly pressing a kiss to her temple, the imprint of his warmth lingering. A reassurance that this strange emotion that defied expectations was shared, that he too had entrusted her a piece of his heart.

He’d told her once under a night sky full of stars that she was deserving of happiness, and while she’d taken a long, convoluted path to reach the point where she could accept that, she had, at long last, arrived. She had taken her first steps onto a new path towards a happiness of her own making, each cobblestone paved by her own hands, building a life that followed her own rules and answered to no one else.

She couldn't wait to see where it would take her.

[skaald-of-the-hearth-fires]

can you talk to me about Logan? was he retconned into being a simp or was he always a simp? what else do u like about him

AHO YES

thanks for the ask!! I have had MANY thoughts about this.

So. Logan's story started in 1319 when he met Rytlock, then Caithe, and they fought in an arena in Lion's Arch for a while. This is documented in the official, canonical book Edge of Destiny.

Queen Jennah came to watch a match as part of international relations or something, and Logan was smitten immediately and went to talk to her before the match. (His brother was the queen's guard so that may have given him some leeway lol.) He told her he would fight for her, his queen. He asked for a token, and she gave him a scarf, which he wore while he fought. He was injured so terribly that he was unconscious, but he did have victory.

Once he woke up, Logan received an official summons to Divinity's Reach in Kryta. He went and met with the queen, who presented him to all the nobles, ministers, and other politicians as 'her Champion,' raising both their hands in the air. He would be her warrior outside Kryta, her presence on foreign fields. Then she turned to him, squeezeed his hand, and whispered in his ear, "thank you for answering my summons" (she is a queen). Logan squeezed her hand in return and responded that he would always answer her summons.

So she, on the spur of the moment, magically bonded him to her, a process whereby she went into his mind (Logan's mental monologue describes her as a thief in the night, and yet he welcomed her and led her into his memories).

This rocks her back for a moment in awe at the things he has done, but she quickly recovers in the presence of her court and declares to Logan that if she summons him, he must come. Logan kneels and promises he will.

After this, Logan returns to Lion's Arch to continue fighting in the arena, meets the rest of Destiny's Edge and goes off to fight dragons.

During the rest of the book, Logan and Jennah exchange letters in which Jennah clearly returns his love. She is concerned for his wellbeing fighting dragons and their champions, which as well all know is not known for its health benefits. See the tail end of her first letter:

As your queen, I could forbid you to do this thing, but I have seen you defeat a legion of charr. I have seen you slay devourers and destroyers, centaurs and ettins and worse. If anyone could defeat the Dragonspawn, it would be you. So, I will not forbid it. I will trade fear for hope and look forward to congratulating you on this latest and greatest of your victories. -- your queen, Jennah

She calls him 'my dear Champion' and says her trust in him was well placed, and wishes he could return home (but he is too busy for this) and 'you are most alive in the heart of danger' anyway.

My heart tells me to forbid you to go. I should. [...] if I lose you to Morgus Lethe, it would be worse than losing an army. [...] I think of you often. I imagine you marching across blasted tundra, battling monsters in caves of ice, standing stalwart against our enemies. Perhaps I am just imagining the battles you fight, but I choose to believe we have a deeper bond.

After the second victory of Destiny's Edge, Jennah writes in exultation that a champion of a dragon cannot stand against the champion of a queen. I fear to lose you, and I want more than anything to see you again. But you cannot fight for me by standing around the halls of Divinity's reach. The last thing I need is another polished advisor. They are just statues compared to a flesh-and-blood champion. So, fight for me. Defeat the Destroyer of Life. And in our long separation, I will content myself with letters and with visions of your heroism. Your queen, Jennah

Later, she addresses a letter to the Most Magnificent Logan Thackeray, after spending the book dropping her own titles as they grow closer, and she calls her desire to summon him 'selfish.'

Then follows the incident with Glint, Kralkatorrik, and Logan leaving to protect Jennah. (Their magical bond allowed her to communicate with him via telepathy.) We know how that goes. Logan's brother is killed in the fighting, and we last see Logan Thackeray taking his place and bearing his sword as Captain of the Seraph, left hand of the queen.

And so we see Captain Thackeray in-game, often in his office doing paperwork or clinging to the queen's side (often in spite of her gentle persuasion to depart for adventure and glory). So the man who was most alive in battle becomes the polished advisor Jennah never needed him to be, for the sake of her own protection.

So much for Edge of Destiny! but even officially-canon sources are nothing compared to in-game sources. Off we go to Divinity's Reach, 1325, five years later, when the queen is in danger from one of her own soldiers who went mad from dragon corruption, and the Durmand Priory has stepped in to help defend her.

The player, who has recently been delegated the role of 'Advocate of the Queen' in dealing with the three Orders of Kryta, has this conversation with her.

Advocate: Captain Thackeray is very worried about you, Your Majesty. Queen Jennah: Logan? He mustn't worry... please, tell him I'll be fine. If he is distracted, and gets hurt, I don't know what I would do. Advocate: If I may be so bold, ma'am, the two of you seem to care about one another very much. Queen Jennah: He is like an angel sent from Dwayna to be at my side. If things were different, or if Kryta were at peace, then, perhaps... Advocate: Good luck, ma'am. To all of us.

after the battle, another conversation is had.

Advocate: Speaking of Captain [Logan] Thackeray... it doesn't bother you that he's going to Lion's Arch? Queen Jennah: I'm worried, I'll admit. Caithe has never been trustworthy even in the best of times, and lately... Please, tell me you'll watch over him? Advocate: You know that you could stop him, right? One word from you, and he'd stay. Queen Jennah: No, Advocate. I have enough servants - I want a partner. Logan must be free to make his own decisions.

Note that these dialogues are not available to characters who pick the Vigil path. The first one (and most important, imo) is only available in the Durmand Priory path. Don't ask me why, that's a stupid decision (and perhaps the wiki just failed to document them in the other two paths), but here we have the lore still perfectly intact, confirming the books and even increasing on them. The strongest declaration of the queen's love aside from the magical bond is found in the game itself. "He is like an angel sent from Dwayna?" please.

Logan didn't simp for Jennah, although he did embarrass himself a few times and he is most certainly quite sappy and focused on Jennah's welfare and protection. It's his whole vocation. He is a guardian, and guardians protect. He is Seraph Captain, and the Seraph Captain serves the queen and defends her and her people. And he loves her, and she loves him. She cares for him fiercely and worries about him just as much as she did five years ago.

Contrast that to Season 3, Head of the Snake, 1330, five years after, where the player Commander approaches the queen again.

Commander: After the incident with Estelle, I meant to ask you about Logan... Queen Jennah: Captain Thackeray has provided unwavering, invaluable service to the crown. I expect he will continue to do so, especially given the current situation with Caudecus. Commander: Apologies if I've given offense, Your Majesty. Queen Jennah: That's not necessary. I hear the whispers, and I see with my own eyes. Logan is... a loyal servant, and a friend. I think he's coming to terms with that. At last.

Logan was never a simp until they forced him to be by taking his full decade of service, love, and devotion and said it was never appreciated. They ripped his lover out of his arms and forced her to tell him, against her own expressed feelings, that she never loved him, that all his years of service and sacrifice meant nothing to her and never had, that he had wasted himself on nothing. It makes a mockery of him, turning him into a blind fool whose expressions of unashamed, raw love were the foolish delusions of a lovestruck boy who, apparently, spent ten years trying to win her love and failing to measure up.

This was in a main story instance that everyone who played that episode could see.

This of course, holds no candle in fandom discourse to an offscreen source (book) and a conversation that occured in 1/15th of all possible story paths (1/5 chance of playing human, 1/3 chance of choosing Priory). The real funny thing is that Anet never removed these dialogues when they made the retcon.

Logan was a hero. He was a champion. He is skilled and experienced in both combat and strategy, in leadership and military management. Logan was evenly matched with a Blood Legion Tribune, and for a human that is no mean feat. He slew beasts with a company of five that it took the whole dwarven race to kill. He is one of, if not the strongest hero, aside the Commander, to exist in the modern day. There's a reason he was snapped up by the Pact almost immediately. And this retcon turns Jennah into a blind fool as well, failing to see the strength, courage, and heroism in front of her face, who loved and was devoted to her, and foolishly spurned his love.

So much for the canon!

I do not like this retcon, not one bit. I also hate changing canon. Undoing this retcon would change a lot of things going forward from Season 3, such as him being Marshal of the Pact, him being a ladies' man with all the ladies who aren't as dumb and stupid as the retcon made Jennah to be, and so on.

So I will fix the retcon while preserving a respect for both Logan and Jennah, and it is this: that it is not a retcon - that is to say, it has no power going backwards - but that it is a development. Jennah has fallen out of love with Logan after his repeated refusal to leave her side and be the hero she fell in love with. He used to have utmost respect for her, and would take her suggestions as commands. But here he does not, and when he finally did leave to kill Zhaitan, it was only to come back in S1 and be just as stubborn as ever. (Which is technically a limitation of S1's timing and development IRL, but it works.) He leaves to fight dragons but he comes straight back and does not listen. This is a minor improvement, but it is not enough. The queen can not love a man who will not listen to his queen.

This could read either as Jennah falling out of love, or that she, for his own good, says that she doesn't love him anymore, in order to let him leave and be his most true, alive self in battle. And maybe she misses him and is torn apart when she dreams of his battles with the Pact, and of his adventures with other women, but he is happy, and there was a part of him that was not while he stayed by her side and did paperwork and sacrificed himself for her safety.

So much for the retcon!

What else do u like about him? -- dabenport

I'm glad you asked, I have no clue! He's not a particularly compelling character to me. I'm asexual and have never been in a relationship, so I don't relate to... much of his existence lol.

I'll say I've mained human all my life (despite my fave race being sylvari) and Logan is pretty great. He has a sense of humor (as Seraph Captain, I can't exactly jump up and down saying 'pick me! pick me!' but I can certainly think it) (oh dear! the White Mantle is upon me! oh woe! is this the end for poor Logan?).

I guess what I really like about him is his devotion to the queen. The queen serves the kingdom, and Logan serves the queen. They are united in their service to the people. That's a great picture to me.

You can tell how much a person cares about something by what they sacrifice for it. Logan sacrificed Snaff, Glint, and the chance of defeating Kralkatorrik. Logan sacrificed a life of adventure. He sacrificed his relationship with Rytlock, an honorary brother, as well as the rest of Destiny's Edge. (Jennah's side of the relationship is much more hidden, not well known aside from what I've just related; she is a shadow in the story compared to Logan's bright flare of a hero, a mentor to human characters and connection to Destiny's Edge.)

Logan also sacrifices for fighting the dragons: in Arah he stayed behind, and although by some miracle he survived, it was clear he did not expect to.

Sacrifice is like catnip to me. Give something up for the sake of that which you love; gimme. It's the theme of all my blorbos. Somehow it doesn't come through in making Logan a compelling character to me. I can feel strongly about his overall story and write about that, but the long-term drudgery of writing a narrative is much more difficult. Perhaps it is because I have never been in a relationship and don't know what to show/how to explore that. Write what you know, they say. I don't know the strength of the feelings involved or how they might express. (I've also never really been a fan of the romance genre, possibly for the same reason, and I've had very few friends in my life, so I really have no sources of knowledge on what is it like to love that deeply.

Possibly for these reasons, it's difficult for me to write about Logan. Despite my high regard for him, he's just not compelling to me the way other characters (cough Trahearne cough Forgal cough Taimi - whose stories may contain love in some amount but are not focused on them) are. I write about him because I concluded that his PoV would be the best to tell the opening acts of Dreams of Freedom from, chronicling Destiny's Edge's journey in this AU of mine. Sometimes I reconsider, although I'm sorta committed now, and I do enjoy it when I can buckle down to it.

~oOoOo~

This has been

Character Study: Logan Thackeray

thank you for asking and giving me this opportunity to talk! On some level, all GW2 characters are my blorbos and I could talk about any of them at length. Logan is less compelling than other GW2 characters, but that is like saying a giant is short for being 12ft tall and not 15 or 20.

[anghraine]

Is Darcy reprehensible for not warning people/doing something about Wickham? I've seen the idea around in fandom & I'd love to know your thoughts. It always strikes me as being a pretty non-Georgian sentiment & Darcy's intervention later is presented as unusual rather than percived as something he should have done earlier.

I wouldn't say reprehensible, no, and his handling of the Lydia situation definitely goes above and beyond what anyone could reasonably expect of him. Even Elizabeth doesn't expect it after discovering he was at the wedding—her speculations about his involvement that throw him in the best possible light still fall short of what he's actually done.

As for what he might have done earlier, I think it's ... complicated.

For one, he was stuck between a rock and a hard place with regard to his responsibility to safeguard Georgiana vs a wider social responsibility. It's easy to say that, of course, the social good should come before any particular individual, and that publicizing Wickham's character would have been preferable.

But personally, I think it's very understandable that Darcy, at age 27, considered his 15-year-old sister and ward who had just been preyed upon by a man of his own age, considered that she chose to tell him what was going on while believing herself in love, thought about the likely very long-term consequences to her reputation, and went "nope."

(There's the possibility of publicizing Wickham's character without bringing Georgiana into it, but if he boxes Wickham into a corner where he has nothing to lose, odds are good that Wickham himself will smear her reputation, so ethically, there's not much difference.)

This rationale is basically what he gives in the letter. Understandable doesn't mean right, but reprehensible just seems way too strong to me for someone in a position that difficult in that social context.

It's worth noting, I'll say, that his silence is something he feels the need to explain, even if it's debatable whether saying something during the novel would have made much of a difference among the Meryton crowd specifically. He might have tried to mediate it through Bingley, but he has repeatedly told Bingley about Wickham's real character while withholding the Georgiana episode, and Bingley tried to pass on a warning (even Caroline did in her way), but couldn't remember the details that Darcy had told him previously.

It's also worth noticing that Darcy's justification seems sufficient to both Elizabeth and Jane at the time, and presumably is shared by Colonel Fitzwilliam (who definitely knows about it and, given his reaction to Elizabeth's slight reference to Georgiana, appears to be 100% onboard with protecting Georgiana's reputation as her co-guardian). And even after the Lydia disaster and without knowing anything about Georgiana's involvement, sensible Mrs Gardiner dismisses the idea that anyone but Wickham and Lydia should be held responsible, and specifically, that Darcy should.

Also notably, although Darcy holds himself responsible in his conversation with the Gardiners, and explains his greater knowledge of Wickham and Mrs Younge, Mrs Gardiner remarks that he doesn't explain what the cause of disapprobation actually was—so even at his most self-critical, he's still trying to protect Georgiana as far as the circumstances allow.

I don't think his penitence is just a cover for his "real" motivation of helping Elizabeth, for what it's worth. In the novel, Darcy says he wasn't thinking of her family but only of her, but he also says that he won't deny that his feelings for her "add[ed] force to the other inducements which led me on," which I suspect is a reference to his feelings of culpability. But no other character considers him responsible or finds his rationale for silence unsatisfactory, so I do think the kind of take you mention exceeds what is really supported by the novel, or would be a common perspective at the time.

It's not that any criticism of how he handled the situation is excessive or ahistorical, but—like, there was a viral post about his "toxic masculinity" with regard to this that a bunch of people sent me, and I thought it was, let's say, painfully misguided in terms of the novel and its social context. And I do run into takes like that reasonably often, and they very rarely acknowledge that a) he is not uniquely accountable for what multiple people know, and b) that his claim to guilt is immediately thrown into doubt by Mrs Gardiner.

So, uh, that's my take on it, and sorry it took so long to get back to you!

[kolbisneat]

MONTHLY MEDIA: October 2023

It's the scariest time of the year and I'm not talking about tax season. Here's how I spent the month of October!

……….FILM……….

Elvira: Mistress of the Dark (1988) Knowing practically nothing about Elvira's schtick, I was floored by how...utterly constant the jokes come at you. I later read a review that described Elvira's character as "Groucho Marx with boobs" and I couldn't put it any better. If this didn't end with a rap I'd give it a perfect score.

The Nice Guys (2016) So great. It really is a shame we didn't get more with this cast cause it's all just so great. The casual violence, the comedy, the setting, it's perfect. Between this and Barbie I'm now realizing just how perfect Ryan Gosling is at playing the beautiful idiot. "I think I'm invincible. It's the only thing that makes sense," is so good. Anyway go watch it if you haven't seen it.

Detroit Rock City (1999) Does a great job of setting the tone early and commits to it through to the very end. Fun and gross and problematic...just how KISS would want it.

……….TELEVISION……….

Poker Face (Episode 1.07 to 1.08) Love that I can watch an episode or two and just kinda enjoy the ride. More episodic mysteries, please. And with Detroit Rock City, this makes October a real Natasha Lyonne month.

Love is Blind (Episode 5.01 to 5.11) Wild to discover an entire proposal/wedding got axed from the show and I'm constantly reminded that anyone who goes on a reality tv show will inevitably disappoint you.

……….YOUTUBE……….

Pop Science And The Limitations Of Infotainment by Coffee Break Really interesting breakdown of the dangers that go along with turning science into something more digestible and engaging. Well worth the watch. VIDEO

This is Financial Advice by Folding Ideas Yes I did watch a 2.5 hour dive into meme stocks. And I'd do it again in a heartbeat. VIDEO

yay, modern filmmaking... by CinemaStix and The Pirates Trilogy is Pure Bliss by Just Write Clearly I enjoy watching video essays about film and these two really stood out. Both channels tend to lean towards celebrating film and media but Cinemastix's...gentle deconstruction of why the faster pace of editing in modern films can be a disservice to the artform really left an impression with me. And I'm still a big fan of the original Pirates trilogy. VIDEO (Modern Filmmaking) VIDEO (Pirates)

……….READING……….

The Tombs of Atuan by Ursula K. Le Guin (Complete) I love a good beefy novel but then you read something like this: something so lean and yet so rich, and you start to wonder why authors need hundreds of pages to tell a story. A Wizard of Earthsea didn't click with me when I first read it but I really should go back to it (as well as continue the Earthsea Cycle).

Take Ivy by Shosuke Ishizu, Teruyoshi Hayashida, and Toshiyuki Kurosu (Complete) Really great style-inspiration after listening to the podcast series dedicated to it.

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: The IDW Collection Vol. 11 by Kevin Eastman, Tom Waltz, Damian Couceiro, and other talented illustrators and letterers (Complete) Went back to the TMNT comic after seeing Mutant Mayhem and this was such a great return to form! One of the strongest collection of stories I can remember in a while. Even the human-centric stuff (which tends to fall flat for me in this series) was interesting and just enough to work. Really great stuff.

Ultimate Spider-Man Volume 10 (HC) by Brian Michael Bendis, Stuart Immonen, and many others (Complete) I admit I've always prefered Immonen's work to Bagley's so I'm excited to finally get into his run in this reread. The Ultimate Goblins never worked for me but this volume has a really great second arc that highlights the best of Spider-Man (blending highschool drama with superhero drama).

……….AUDIO……….

Destroyer by Kiss (1976) You know I never really got into KISS and I have no idea why. I love theatrics, I love rock opera, I love a gimmick. This has all of that in spades. Needless to say I'm now a big fan.

……….GAMING……….

Oz: A Fantasy Role-Playing Setting (Andrews McMeel Publishing) Both of my groups are in Oz this month (it is Oztober, afterall). One crew is currently sorting out drama in Munchkin District and the other is still navigating the aftermath of some magically-caused domestic terrorism.

And that’s it. See you in November!