#epithet exchanged

[epithetemporium]

Fanart for @zemoleinyourtrashcan's AU epithet exchanged! (+ me playing around with ugly wanna be backgrounds because I'm bored)

I ended up playing around with the design a bit and made a few changes because....idk inspiration or sum so it isn't fully accurate but I still like it

(don't mind me for some reason having thought it's called epithet replaced that never happened you're from a different timeline if you have a memory like that)

[imlivinginyourtrashcan]

LORELAI: Yknow, I wish you’d help me with chores around the house sometimes.

MOLLY: CHRIST you’re extremely fucking SELFISH,

DIE

LORELAI: You are LITERALLY twelve years old

[thegreatyin]

i always write really normal really relaxed guys that are really chill and always go with the flow

[spacebird-diaries]

Wally: Hey!  Tall guy!  You could have at least trapped us inside the dinosaur bones.  Like how I requested to be buried in my will!

Wally: Yeah, no big deal, but I wrote my last will and testament because I live my life in constant danger

Bailey: I wrote my last will and testament because life is fleeting, and you never know when you or a loved one will die

Wally: ...You’re kind of a bummer, anyone ever tell you that?

[aworldofpattern]

Zendaya at the Met Gala 2024, wearing custom Maison Margiela Artisanal by John Galliano, and hat by Stephen Jones.

The fruit, flowers, insects and birds on the gown fit the dress code of the night, 'The Garden of Time', inspired by J.G. Ballard's 1962 short story (explained here by the BBC).

The gown also references John Galliano’s Spring 1999 couture collection for Dior, in particular the gown below, decorated with grapes.

Maison Margiela said:

'A sage lamé bias-cut ‘siren dress’ overlaid with iridescent electric blue organza with ‘retrograding’ in undulating bands of hand-painted metallic crin, swathed in an aluminium material and iridescent organza drape and bow, with a corsage hand-embroidered in a bacchanal of hand-painted impasto in the grammar of the electric blues and emerald greens of scarab amulets, with formations of birds, flowers, vines, grapes and nuts, worn over a boudoir-coloured duchess satin corset. A silver metal-wire ‘reverse swatching’ hat and a black hand-painted voile crafted in the memory of plume and enveloped in matching coloured stockings by Stephen Jones for Maison Margiela, and Eau de Nil velour and faux lizard Tabi interlaced ankle-strap pumps by Christian Louboutin for Maison Margiela.

Created for Zendaya by John Galliano for Maison Margiela, the haute couture silhouette was inspired by the 1930s mythological works of the photographer Madame Yevonde and imbued with the memory of the orgiastic sceneries of the bacchanals of Ancient Greece. In a dance between painterly cutting and draping techniques – unique to each layer of the construction – and the superposition of fabric textures such as tin foil with transparent iridescent organza overlay, the composition conjures the staccato brushstrokes of Giovanni Boldini. The bias-cut ‘siren dress’ is a key expression in the creative practice of John Galliano, which first appeared at Maison Margiela in the Spring-Summer 2020 Artisanal Collection. Infused with a certain ‘snobisme’, the look is given the epithet of ‘86 and Lexington’, a nod to the subway station near The Met.

The dress was crafted with ‘retrograding’, a technique through which variations of thread-work, appliqué or encrustation degrade from the bottom to the top of a garment like the linear base drawing of a painting that hasn’t yet been finished. The ‘reverse swatching’ technique employed in the hat exchanges the fabrics traditionally used for certain parts of dressmaking with materials of a contrasting value.' X

[aloesarchives]

All That is Revealed(JJK One-shot)

TW/Warnings: Some angst but Fluff ending, minor profanity, MANGA SPOILERS FOR HIDDEN INVENTORY ARC, Possible OOC Toji/Megumi/and Satoru/ Toji and Satoru still having beef after 12 years, Reader feeling stressed, Megumi indirectly cockblocks Toji

A sequel to this headcanon

Series: Jujutsu Kaisen

Pairing: Toji x Fem!/Mama! Reader, Megumi x Mama! Reader(platonic)

AU: Toji Lives AU

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 4.8k words

Summary: You finally tell your son and his friends about Satoru and Toji’s shared “history”.

It had only been a week since Megumi got cooked by his dad during their little practice sparring session, which ended with you breaking it up and reprimanding Toji for almost critically injuring his son. That is not what’s bothering Megumi, however. Well, okay, he left a little salty with a bruised pride from barely holding his own against his dad. But that’s beside the point.

What’s bothering him is what you said to him at the end of your conversations. After learning Toji was just playing with Megumi, not even using a fraction of his actual strength, Megumi asks you how truly powerful his dad is. Your only answer was, “Ask your teacher, Megumi.” You then left the school grounds without another word. What did you mean by that? Megumi had never seen his pompous teacher like this before. Satoru’s endless sweat bullets and fidgety hands looked out of character for him. He tried asking him the next day, but Satoru didn’t acknowledge the question and completely ignored it. However, Megumi noted Gojo’s increased stuttering and rapidly fluctuating curse energy. He didn’t have any luck with Geto-sensei either. Geto would give some sort of cryptic answer to Megumi’s question with a lopsided grin, but even reading between the lines was a pain for Megumi himself.

Though, Megumi couldn’t blame his teachers for avoiding his question. He is well aware that his family is not average, even by Jujutsu standards. His father, Toji, was seen as the black sheep of the entire Jujutsu society, a useless human with no trace of curse energy. But the whispers and hushed voices he heard were a different story. His notorious epithet of “Sorcerer killer” wasn’t something every sorcerer took lightly. From the reactions he’d seen about the talks of his dad, something wasn’t adding up. The disconcert and uneasiness radiated from his two special grade teachers at the mention of his father, not to mention many others having a sober expression when speaking about him. It was like an entire act missing from a volume, and Megumi needed to figure out why.

Since he couldn’t get it out of his teachers, he’ll go for the primary source itself, you. Yet, he was swamped with school and back-to-back missions every chance he had. So, he had no time to bring it up in the first place. It was gnawing at him for days, and he wasn’t the only one. Yuuji and Nobara were also curious about your vague statement and wanted answers. Seemingly more determined than Megumi himself. But it isn’t their fault since your vague answer sparked more questions than answers. Plus, on top of not knowing much about you either. 

You were an enigma to the two students. They have seen you around campus but will be out of sight the next, leaving no trace other than your curse residuals behind. Yuuji and Nobara met you briefly a couple of times after the exchange event, only for Megumi to drag them away to leave you to your own devices. It also didn’t help them that Megumi was pretty reserved about personal details, especially ones involving family. Their only leads on you came from the mouths of other sorcerers and the school staff members. Their teacher, known to be a mortal deity, speaks highly of you with a pinch of fondness, which is strange since he never says that of anyone in such a manner. Not even to their other teacher, Suguru Geto, his best friend.

After constantly pestering and begging Megumi to tell more about his ethereal and alluring mother, Megumi decides it is now an excellent time to converse with you. For him, it’s killing two birds with one stone. His friends will finally stop bugging him about you, and he’ll get his answers. It was Thursday; the first years were preparing for a night mission. Gojo had told Megumi that you were coming to discuss recent curse activities and sorcerers' reports for the mouth. The students didn’t have to leave until 3:00pm, so he had time to spare. After their routine classes and training, Megumi begins seeking you out along with Yuuji and Nobara. With plenty of time before dispatching their mission, they searched the whole campus for you. 

While walking through a corridor from one of the student lounges, the students hear voices from one of the nearby private rooms. Before Megumi could think, Divine Dog: Totality summoned itself and dragged Megumi to where the voices came from. Megumi didn’t know his shadows to summon themselves without his command. However, this has happened a few times, such as when you’re nearby, and they picked up your curse residuals. So, remembering that his shikigamis know your essence, he lets Totality pull him along with Yuuji and Nobara. He was proven right when your voice on the other side of the shogi door was from the other side. Totality wags its tail, pushing its master’s hand to open it before disappearing into the corridor’s shadows. Before he knocked, he could hear the different voices as well. There was Gojo-Sensei, Geto-Sensei, and— is that his dad’s voice too? 

‘What the hell? Why is Dad here of all places?’ Megumi thought with his brows furrowing. He knows about the rule that Toji must always be with you on Jujutsu High grounds. He only comes to the school when he wants to tag along or you ask him to. It’s mainly the latter. Megumi snapped out of his thoughts when Nobara and Yuuji shook his shoulders to knock. He takes a deep breath before lightly tapping his knuckles on the door. There was a brief silence before your voice called out to them.

“Who is it?”

“It’s Megumi, Mom. I also brought Yuuji and Nobara, too.”

  Upon hearing your son, you allowed them to come in. As the students came in, they spotted you in the room's layout. The light from the afternoon sun made the mahogany coffee table shine. Three black lounge sofas spaced to face each other, two on the opposite ends of the table while the other met the head. You sat on the head sofa with your legs crossed; Toji was on your left while Satoru and Suguru sat on the other two sofas. Satoru joins Suguru's side to make room for the kiddos to sit. You eye your son curiously, seeing his fidgeting fingers stick out his straight posture.

“What brings you three here? Something on your mind, Megumi?” You say tenderly, a soft affection for your son to feel comfortable.

“Yeah, Mom. . . It’s about–”

“Fushiguro-kun wants to know about your question from last week, (L/N)-Sensei!”

“Yeah, Fushiguro-sensei! Fushiguro has been moppy all week because of it. Would you so kindly answer his question, Fushiguro-Sensei?”

You paused from sipping your (favorite drink), looking at the trio with scrunched brows and a slight frown. Megumi reprimanded the two for speaking on his behalf before he returned to facing you, his fists unusually clenched in his lap.

“ Megumi, I’m sorry for giving you anxious thoughts and restless nights. I didn’t mean to do anything to hurt you; you know that, right? My son, what is it that you want to ask me? You said, reassuring your brooding son. You glanced at Toji, his face unchanging, but his eyes shared the same feeling. Your husband shrugged his shoulders at you, indicating he had no idea what was happening with Megumi. You direct your attention back to your son, hoping he will confide in you like always. Your son takes another deep breath to calm his nerves before speaking again.

“Last week, after Dad beat me, you said that he wasn’t even trying. So when I asked you how strong, you said ask Gojo-Sensei, and that was it. Unfortunately, Gojo-Sensei and Geto-Sensei didn’t answer me, so I wanted to ask you.”

You looked over at the two teachers who were once your students. Suguru shrugged with his hands out while Satoru whistled away with his hands behind his back, relaxing in his seat. You shook your head. You look back at your son with a soft smile.

“I see, so you had to come to the primary source. Well, don’t blame your teachers, Megumi. After all, this is a hard topic for them to discuss.”

The trio looked at each other, confused but curious in your answer. But Megumi was more confused since he had known the two teachers all his life.

“Mom, what are you implying?”

The air shifted, and tension settled in, though Nobara and Yuuji couldn’t feel it. Megumi knew what he was asking was going into a rough part of his parents' lives. Megumi may not be the brightest, but he’s far from dumb. He knows this is serious with what he knows about his father and how vague everyone has been. You were about to speak up if it weren’t for Satoru stepping in to give an answer to the young Fushiguro, albeit failing miserably as he was beating around the bush.

“Megumi-kun, how do I explain this. . . Toji-san, your father, he, erm, he actually–”

“Your father defeated Gojo-kun, Megumi.” You blatantly said, interrupting Satoru to save himself the embarrassment. 

There were various reactions to your answer. Though Satoru was wearing his blindfold, you could sense his eyes widened as he refrained from talking further. Suguru and Toji choked on their own air. Yuuji and Nobara had surprised looks, mouths slightly open. But out of everyone, Megumi had the most emotional reaction. His fists clenched even harder, and his face etched in absolute flabbergast. He was completely floored by your answer. What intensified this reaction was the profound aura you gave off. Your posture was not stiff but firm, showing no sign of slack throughout your body. You set your cup down while uncrossing your legs so the heels of your shoes are flat on the ground. Megumi knew you were telling the truth. He could feel his blood start to rush throughout his body like his chest had been squeezed and forced the air out of his lungs.

“M-mom. . . In what way? And how?”

Though your eyes were severe, your soft smile never left your lips.

“I will try to explain everything to you, but there are many details that I have to give you a shortened version. I’m also speaking on behalf of your father. At the time, I was a part-time sorcerer with a full-time job in the real world. I only knew your father did freelance work with another person. I knew your father hunted curses for a check but not hits on someone. I also became a teacher at Jujutsu Tech so we could get by because my full-time job was cutting hours. Your father’s work paid well but wasn’t consistent, so we had some financial troubles. This caused your father to disappear for months at a time, leaving me to raise you and your sister alone.”

Mentioning the last part, Toji shifted in his seat to be more comfortable. It was futile because it was his attempt to respond to being reminded of one of his biggest regrets in life. Toji knew he had every right to feel shameful for his past actions. Still, it doesn’t change the fact he still gets hurt by them after 12 years. You gently reached out to place your hand on your husband’s as it was on your shoulder. Sensing his discomfort, you tried to soothe his thoughts with the gesture. He deflates slightly as your soft action gives ease, leaning his head to lay on your other shoulder. Your eyes never left Megumi’s as you resumed comforting his dad.

“The day after your Father’s disappearance, I got a significant assignment where I had to oversee and act as one of two guardians for a mission. The same one your teachers were assigned at the request of Tengan, Jujutsu society’s barrier guardian. Initially, they wanted to just have Satoru-kun and Suguru-kun do it. However, the nature of the mission needed some, let’s say, more cautious individuals, and that’s where Maho and I, a fellow sorcerer, were brought in.”

“Okay, but (L/N)-dono, we were careful and diligent if you or Maho-san didn’t come with us! Suguru and I would’ve handled it just fine!”

You raised a single eyebrow at the blindfolded fool, giving him an intense side-eye.

“Given your track record of forgetting to dematerialize veils and scooping out the perimeter beforehand, I could beg to differ. Plus, with how you were back then, your lack of self-awareness would’ve got you, AND Suguru, into situations that would have been completely avoidable.”

Everyone snickered at your comment, causing Satoru’s cheeks to be dusted over with a rosy color. Suguru even laughed at his expense when he should be backing up his best friend. Satoru whined at Suguru, and the two started to bicker with each other. You paid no mind to it as you used to it over the years.

“So what was the mission, Mom?” Megumi inquire

“Every couple of years or so, Tengen needs to merge with their chosen vessel called the star plasma vessel. The merging allows Tengen to not evolve past their humanity, maintaining a humanoid form. At the time, their chosen vessel was a girl named Riko Amanai. The mission was for Satoru and Suguru to escort her to Tengen to complete the merging. However, I was mainly assigned because a high-paying bounty was placed on Riko, so I had to help.”

“Do you know who placed it, Mom?” Megumi said, a little agitated at the person who made your mission a living hell.

Satoru and Suguru stared intently at you, wondering what you would say next. You glanced at the two and then your husband before inhaling to give you some air from the already tense room.

“The person… that placed the bounty on her, Megumi, was… was your father.”

At the mention of Toji, Megumi's face went from rage to repulsion in a matter of seconds. He looked at his father with absolute detest as Toji had regret written all over himself. Yuuji and Nobara felt like they were watching a soap opera. This is the most they have seen Megumi this reactive. They saw him as someone who kept his emotions in check, never letting too much spill out. However, seeing this version of him was unexpected but made them sympathetic since his life is more intertwined in the Jujutsu world than theirs. 

“A cult member from a group that worshipped Tengen disagreed. He contacted Toji and Shui Kong, his freelance partner, to capture Riko. Dead or Alive. So Toji decided to place a bounty so others could wear us down. He didn’t, however, know I was on that mission. Nor was I even aware he was the one who placed the bounty.”

Each word you spoke carried a heaviness as you recalled the mission's events. You tried to include crucial details, having Satoru and Suguru talk occasionally. To know that it takes one mission to change everything was unbelievable. The first years, though shocked, were locked into the story. Many mixed emotions stirred within them as you retell the fable mission. Even though this happened long ago, speaking about this constantly reminded you of life’s unpredictability. It can be fulfilling, then cruel and unfair the next. As you continue, a heavy weight you haven’t felt in years creeps up as you nears the mission's climax. Getting to the fable fights that rocked the Jujutsu world forever. 

The more you speak, the heavier the invisible weight becomes. The feeling of suffocation closing in. At the moment, you didn’t know why you were feeling this. But later on, you come to realize it came from the burden of having to tell your son the atrocities his own father committed, not just against the Jujutsu world, but against you as well. For as long as you can remember, you knew Megumi wasn’t always getting along with his dad. He was a mama’s boy through and through, a brother who always looked out for his older sister. 

When it came to his dad, however, it was a mixed bag. Megumi does love his dad, but he doesn’t necessarily hate him. Even when Toji returned, he wasn’t forgiving of his presence like Tsumiki or open-minded like you. He was expecting his dad to vanish like before. Your heart aches to know your own son had that level of self-consciousness from a young age, meaning he and his sister were forced to grow up, all while you tried to raise them by yourself. It was clear that after 12 years, Megumi hadn’t entirely accepted his father.

Now came for you to reveal what his father had done to be so infamous. So you laid it out for them. Telling how Toji temporarily killed Gojo, fought and won against Suguru and Maho, and captured Riko. This happened when you only talked to Tengen for a few minutes, coming out of the chamber to see the chaos. Your eyes never left Megumi, watching to see how he was handling it. Oddly enough, he had an unreadable expression, but you know the rage that burned in his eyes. You can tell he was holding himself together. But if no people were around, he would have snapped at his father and lost all the patience he had accumulated over the years. 

This obviously didn’t go unnoticed by the other adults in the room. Satoru and Suguru briefly observed Megumi, empathetic at his mother’s revelations. Unsurprising to them to see Megumi like this. After all, they were a part of the majority of his life, essentially seeing the boy grow up. The two knew he never wore his heart on his sleeve. The flurries of mixed emotions brewed in him like a storm. But his restraint was stronger, letting his eyes speak for themselves. Emphasizing their awareness of how much Megumi loves and respects you, he does not dare lash out because he knows it wasn’t your fault.

Toji had difficulty sparing Megumi a glance, the shame never leaving his body. The years of fatherhood have softened his hard exterior, not always bearing the cocky smirk he wore his single years. Like father like son, Toji had a blank expression, but his eyes held warmth and softness unlike any other to the blessing in his life, his son. He doesn’t blame Megumi if he gives him a spiteful look. If not for his filter, Megumi would denounce and never acknowledge Toji as his father. No matter the reassurance from you or Tsumiki, it can’t convince you to think otherwise. And he was okay with that reality.

Satoru made a backhanded remark at Toji in between your storytelling, which made Toji glare harshly at him. Suguru chided Satoru for his comment, which prompted Toji to throw one back with a smirk etched on his lips to highlight his scar. Megumi didn’t care to put up with his teacher and dad’s squabble. He was focusing on the memories you recited. He’ll leave the worrying to his classmates, who became a little on edge to see if a full-blown argument would break out. You, however, will not let any of it, considering the weight of your burden is already frustrating as it is.

“Satoru, Toji, please! Now’s not the time, and I’m not in the mood to deal with you two, so behave yourselves! Drop the pompous attitude, Satoru and Toji; this wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t hung on beef with a couple of teenagers. Also, stop manspreading and sit up properly! That’s why you both have back pain from your ugly posture! Tsks,” You firmly command, staring them down individually.

The two immediately dropped their act, listening to your demand like soldiers getting reprimanded by their commander. Your tone made it to Suguru and the students because they subconsciously sat up in their seats. You sigh to try and ease the pressure of your burden caused. Surprisingly, it did help only a little as you finished the story. Speaking of Satoru’s enlightenment and newly awakened power, the dissolving of the cult group, and the eventual aftermath.

“In the end, your teachers defeated Toji. And before you ask, Riko Amanai and Kuroi survived. I rescued her and got her back on Jujutsu High grounds. The two actually live on Jujutsu Tech grounds but don’t leave the barrier often due to their safety, unfortunately.”

“So what happened to Dad afterward?” Megumi finally spoke up after sitting on the sidelines so his classmates could answer the asking.

“Your father was imprisoned, waiting for his execution. However, I pulled some strings and made a deal with the higher-ups in exchange for your father’s life. Satoru-kun did me a huge favor and came in clutch when talking to the higher-ups. In the end, your father’s execution was halted on the conditions he and I would have to abide by. The rest was history.”

You haven’t thought much about it, but this story-telling was just a conversation between you and Megumi. You forgot Yuuji and Nobara were there listening in, too. This dawned on you when they kept looking back at each other and Megumi. As much as you wanted to continue your over-sharing experience, this was a good place to stop, considering your son might not be mentally ready for the others. ‘That’s for another time.’

Before anyone could speak up, particularly Megumi, the door to the room slid open, revealing Maho, Akari, Nanako, and Mimiko. Maho glances around the room curiously before coughing into her hand.

“I’m sorry to break up your little conversation, y’all. But the first years need to get going on their night mission. Akari is here to take you three to the location now. Also, Suguru, the girls want to check out a new pop-up dessert stand while on patrol in the Taito ward.” 

Suguru chuckles, standing up and straightening out his uniform. He bid you and Satoru bye while sending good luck the first years' way. Nanako started to whine that they’d be late queuing Suguru to get going. Once Suguru leaves, the first years begin to leave the room. You got up to stretch when you noticed Megumi stopping at the doorway. You start to regret telling Megumi all this because this may not allow him to focus on the mission. Putting his friends and the mission in danger. 

Just as you were about to call for him, he hastily walked over and gave you a tight hug. Startled at first, you eventually returned with the same intensity. Even though Megumi was 15 years old, a young, proper man, you can’t help but see your little baby boy who always called out Mama. You softly pat his head and kiss his forehead before your son pulls away. Megumi looks at you with a soft smile he has always given since he was a young boy.

“I’ll be safe, Mom. Don’t worry,  I’ll come back home in one piece.” Megumi reassured you.

“ Sweet, soft hum I know you will. Just promise me you, Yuuji, and Nobara will try to be careful.”

“Of course, Mom. We will.”

Toji grins at Megumi and nods when his son locks his eyes with him. You look over at the other two standing behind Megumi. They replied to you with a ‘Yes, Ma’am!’ in a saluting position. You laughed at their antics before shoeing them off to Akari for their mission. As their footsteps grew quiet, you relaxed your shoulders briefly before squaring them back up. You haven’t forgotten that Satoru was still in the room with you and Toji. He was still sitting, his signature grin gone and replaced with a firm line on his lips. You know he was peering up at you through his blindfold while Toji causally threw an arm around your shoulder. 

“(L/N)-dono, did you purposely leave out the conditions of your deal with the higher-ups to Megumi-kun?”

“. . .Yes. My son has every right to know about what happened. But simultaneously, this is a matter to be shared with him alone, not when his other classmates are present. The aftermath of the Star Plamsa incident created a domino effect that thrust Megumi into this world. When I tell him everything, I want it so he’s not forced to put his guard up. I wish for him to be comfortable with his vulnerability to this reality our family is in. To tell there’s the possibility he could lose his parents will weigh heavily on him, and he’s already been through so much for his age.”

You attentively gaze down at Satoru. It wasn’t unusual for him to look out for you, to show his caring, almost vulnerable side. He knows you don’t like hiding truths from people, especially your children. So, for you not to tell the other details means something else that’s made you hesitant. He was right, as you revealed the other issue.

“I also don’t want to jeopardize Megumi’s relationship with Toji. I won’t force him to feel what he already has. But I at least want him to understand that his father loves his family more than anything, even though what Toji did was inexcusable. I just don’t want to put Megumi under pressure in front of other people to be this calm, reserved Sorcerer. I want my son to be present and comfortable asking me anything when I tell him. You know how Megumi is, Satoru.”

He simply nods at your answer before he stands up at his full 190 cm height. He pulls on his goofy grin, pulling a complete 180 from how he was mere minutes ago.

“Of course, (Y/N)-dono. I understand, given what Megumi-kun is like when he’s on missions. Anyway, I gotta meet with Yaga-san, or I’ll get yelled at again. I’ll see you later, (Y/N)-dono!”

Satoru walks out of the room, leaving you and your husband alone. It was quiet, the sound of nature only resonating in the room. Then you suddenly felt Toji’s arms wrapped around you firmly, laying his forehead on your shoulder. Gently grasp Toji’s forearms and rub them soothingly.

“I know it’s hard for you to come forward to tell Megs this, Hon. I’m sorry I couldn’t say my part. I'm still terrible at saying my words. Thank you for speaking in my place, (Y/N).” Toji vocalizes, his tenderness revealing itself in the confines of the sit-in room.

“I appreciate it, Honey. You know I always have your back like you have mine. But please know Megumi does care for you, Toji. He has his own way of showing it, that’s all.” You assured him.

“Yeah, I know. He doesn’t like to do those whole words of affirmation things. I get the kid.”

“Hm, where have I seen that before? Like father like son, I guess.” You feigned your curiosity at your husband.

This evokes a burst of laughter out of Toji as he turns you around while still holding you close. Looking at you like an absolute fool too deep in love.

“You think you’re so funny, don’t you, (Y/N)? Come here, you.”

Toji dips his head, going for a kiss. Your eyes fluttered closed in response. You would have kept them closed if your phone hadn’t buzzed off in your pocket three times. You pulled away just as Toji was millimeters away from your lips. Toji groans as you check your phone to see who texted you.

“Who the hell is texting you right now–?” Toji asked in annoyance.

“It’s from Megumi, Dear. Give me a second.”

Toji grumbles, shoving his face in your neck to see what his son sent. You can feel your husband pouting, making you rub his head to calm him down. You read your son's texts that interrupted you and your husband’s intimate moment. 

‘We’re at the location, Mom’

‘It doesn’t look bad, but I’ll still be careful.’

‘I’ll text you when we’re done, Mom.’

‘I love you, Mama❤️’

You cooed at Megumi’s text, sending your replies to him. Toji notices the texts and smiles as well. Megumi, indeed, was a mama’s boy; there is no denying it. Your sweet smile still graces your lovely lips as you look at your husband.

“Toji, stop pouting. I’ll give you all the kisses you want when we get home. I know how you are, you fiend.”

“What do you mean, Hon? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

You give Toji the stare that causes him to put his hands up in defense while scratching the back of his head. You roll your eyes as you escape your buff husband’s grasp, walking towards the door.

“If we get groceries and you cook dinner tonight, I’ll let you have your way with me, Dear~. Tsumiki said she was staying at a friend’s house because they were studying for an exam tomorrow. She won’t be home until Friday afternoon.” You said in your suggestive tone, sending a wink to your husband over your shoulder.

Toji holds a mischievous smirk as he quickly walks over to follow you closely as you leave the grounds of Jujutsu Tech.

“Of course, Doll. Anything for you~.”

[mask131]

Everybody loves to consider Greek mythology as a world of clear-cut deities with specific roles and defined limits between them, but it isn't true - and looking at how the deities changed, evolved and mixed together throughout the times is always a deeply rewarding experience.

One example I can give you are the "alternate Aphrodites". Aphrodite was one of the main and most important goddesses of Greek religion - as such she existed with many local variations, specific epithets and alternate cults. But many of these alternate deities ended up actually fusing Aphrodite with or having her replace other gods - a confusion between deities reflected by their very myths and legends.

The most famous case is the "Aphroditos" that was honored in Chypria: the "phallic Venus", the "bearded Aphrodite", an Aphrodite with male and female attributes honoring a mix of both female and male sexualities - and which according to records was linked to rituals of genders exchanging clothes, and other ritual crossdressing. It has been attested and confirmed that the "male Aphrodite", "Aphroditos" was the source of "prototype" for the figure of Hermaphrodite, the source of "hermaphrodism", and the male-female androgyne born in legends of the union of Hermes and Aphrodite - while also acting himself as an alternate form of Hermes in some places.

Hermes isn't the only lover of Aphrodite the goddess ended up confused with. Everybody likes to talk of "Aphrodite Areia", "Aphrodite of war", "Aphrodite in arms", the Aphrodite bearing weapons honored in more war-like cities and cultures of Ancient Greece, notably Sparta. This Aphrodite was usually coupled or paired with Ares, and legend does notoriously point out how the two were lovers. But in some areas, Aphrodite Areia was more than just the companion of Ares or an "Ares-influenced Aphrodite" - she was LITERALY the female version of Ares, replacing him. One same idea of a deity, for two genders.

And a last example I will point out is the Aphrodite Thalassa, or Aphrodite Pontia. "Aphrodite from the sea". We all know Aphrodite has a strong connection to the sea, since in the Hesiodic version she is supposed to be born out of it, and in religion she was considered a protector of sailors and ships. But further than that, you can see how deep her connection goes due to how in Greek religious (or non-religious) art, Aphrodite was often paired with Poseidon. It is something attested (you can check the book "The Twelve Gods of Greece and Rome", which studies the various depictions of the Twelve Olympians) - among the Olympians, when Aphrodite isn't depicted paired with either Hephaistos or Ares, she was usually paired with Poseidon - and when Aphrodite wasn't among the Twelve, she was replaced by Amphitrite, Poseidon's wife and queen. To the point that in many depictions it is hard to tell them apart - if they weren't fused in one...

Aphrodite's alternate self and "combo fusions" can even go in unexpected ways. Take the local cult, at the Hermione town, of Aphrodite "Nymphia" - Aphrodite the Bride, an Aphrodite of weddings and wives honored both by maiden virgins who were to lose their virginity upon their marriage night, or by widows who prepared themselves for a second union. This marital Aphrodite is the first step in the existence of another alternate self usually described as... "Aphrodite-Hera". And if you recall, back in The Iliad, Homer himself talked of how Aphrodite shared with Hera her belt of seduction to awaken the desire of Zeus... (Plus the fact that Aphrodite was said in the Homeric tradition to be the daughter of Zeus and Dione - Dione herself being literaly just a female verson/counterpart of Zeus ; and by extension later some people called Aphrodite herself "Dione" in reference to her mother, the same Helios in the Homeric traditon is also called "Hyperion" despite Hesiod splitting them in a father-and-son duo)

So yeah, sorry all of you who like neat classifications and little boxes that never get mixed up - but by the real facts, while Greek mythology as quite stable, it was also more fluid than you'd think, and the gods did have a tendency to fuse together...

(Cut to a long post about how Selene, Hekate and Artemis ended up all fused into the "Diana triformis" and the "Triple Moon" by Roman times)

[oldguardleatherdog]

I am being smeared as a "predatory transphobe" to hundreds of thousands of people by Rainbow Passage, a so-called "trans rescue" nonprofit that's covering up its safety failures and misconduct by attacking me and placing my family in danger. Deliberately.

There's a headline I'll bet you never thought you'd see on this blog, and you can be sure I never expected to write it, but here we are. I want you to hear about it from me first before the smear campaign against me poisons your feed.

Regular readers know that I've been fighting for LGBTQ+ civil rights for nearly 40 years, with an emphasis on mobilizing against the "trans panic" sweeping America the past two years, the horrific laws already in place, and the stark plans for eradication laid out in Project 2025. The notion that I'm "transphobic" in any way is absurd. But -

Three weeks ago, YouTube streamer trolls went to the Rainbow Passage website - their unsecured, login-free website - looking for dirt that could bring their operations to a halt. They found my picture and bio listed as a director for the organization.

That was all they needed, and in short order I was the star of several full-length videos and livestreams featuring breathless, jeering takes on my kink life, my history, my family, my age, my AIDS, my September 11th survival (suddenly I was "running the organization" and "hosting 9/11 reenactment roleplays!"), my looks, my unsuitability to be involved with a trans rescue organization, and everything you can imagine a middle-school playground would highlight. At this writing, I've been held out for ridicule, harassment, and threats ("it's time for this dogfucker to be euthanized") to a quarter-million people and counting.

Why?

Because Rainbow Passage failed to implement even the most basic security on that website, despite my multiple warnings in board meetings that this scenario was likely to happen and that we were prime targets for this kind of abuse.

To be honest, everything that the streamers made fun of me for has been said and done to me a thousand times a year for the past 30 years. Heard it all before, nothing new, just the same old "lookit the AIDS-ridden perv faggot old man pretending to be a dog, hurr durr hurr durr!". All those hours of video and they couldn't come up with anything new? These people need better writers.

Here's the issue: Two of the leaders of this sad and tiresome brigade (one named "Blowcockx" or something equally clever, the other one is discussed below) seized on a recent exchange I had with a group of leftist "Trans For Trump" (yep, you read that right) that was mobbing me on Bluesky for objecting when someone referred to Biden as "Genocide Joe". These people were vile and vicious, saying that my gender was "shit beard" and lobbing remarks and insults at me that would make a MAGA blush.

One of the Bluesky mob (who may or may not have been transgender) said, "Prove you're an activist," to which I countered, "Okay, prove you're trans." (Screenshots of my three additional replies referencing "fake trans" to their accusations of my being a "fake activist" and other vomitous epithets, along with screenshots of the posts to which I was replying, can be found after the jump.)

During the mob attack on me and Rainbow Passage. a disgruntled former member of the Rainbow Passage community - a 20-year-old trans girl who had first warned me about the YouTube hijacking and who leaked my personal identifying information and private chats with her to the Twitter trolls and worse - went to Clearsky and harvested my replies without the posts I was replying to, leaked them to the YouTube streamers and Twitter trolls, along with selected portions of our lengthy private chat from Discord, then threatened Rainbow Passage with another attack if they didn't "denounce" me and my replies to the disgusting attacks on me by the Trans Trumpers of Bluesky.

To prove her point, this young trans woman and her girlfriend started a thread about me on Kiwi Farms, where I was the featured post for about a week, and told Rainbow Passage that the same would happen to them - and worse, including the revocation of their nonprofit status with the IRS and the end of their ability to raise funds - if they didn't publicly condemn me for my Bluesky attack replies.

And what did the oh-so-courageous chairwoman and board members who "cared so much" about me, do in response to those threats?

They caved. They capitulated. They allowed a troubled individual with an axe to grind and her little gang of fake-outraged trans shitposters to dictate their handling of a serious and sensitive matter where a former director of the organization and his family were in active danger and under siege. These people, who claim to have the bravery to "rescue" endangered trans people from Texas and Florida, folded like a cheap tissue-paper prom dress, revealing their utter lack of integrity, ethics, or courage.

The statement Rainbow Passage put out, which at this writing has been seen by at least 60,000 people on Twitter alone, is filled with false accusations about my attitude toward the transgender members of the LGBTQ+ community, outright lies about my character and conduct, weirdly characterizes me as a predatory stalker, and warns the general public that I am a bad, bad person who should be avoided and shunned as unfit for decent people in a civilized society. They provide ZERO evidence to support any of their claims against me, their accusations and assertions about me, or their characterization of me as "transphobic."

From my statement below: "Rainbow Passage knew that issuing this statement would intensify the threats, harassment, and stalking of me and my family. They issued it anyway. This statement is a willful and malicious act of violence.

"Rainbow Passage caused a queer elder with AIDS to be featured on a website known for harassing LGBTQ+ people to death and driving them from their homes, while smearing him to hundreds of thousands of people and inciting attacks on him and his family - but they want you to trust them to keep our most vulnerable members safe from harm."

If Rainbow Passage can't and won't protect their own staff (and volunteers, and clients) from harmful exposure to malicious attackers online and IRL, and shifts blame for their failures and lapses of care onto the staff members while caving to threats from random kids, how can they be trusted to keep the most vulnerable members of this community safe from harm during one of their "rescue" missions? If something goes wrong and that client ends up in jail, will Rainbow Passage blame the client for that outcome the same way they're blaming me for their colossal failure to keep their own people safe?

Rainbow Passage's rank AIDSphobia, their calculated smear of a four-decade veteran LGBTQ+ and HIV/AIDS activist, their capitulation to threats from an under-21 trans Kiwi Farms shitposter with an axe to grind, and their hateful, craven, deliberate act of putting my family and me in physical danger, show them to be not only a collection of unwise and uncaring individuals who have abused me and betrayed my trust: The current chairwoman, board, and staff of Rainbow Passage are manifestly and utterly unfit to run this organization. They are not capable of keeping our most vulnerable members out of harm's way, they should not be regarded as worthy of our trust in any way, personally or professionally, and the organization needs to be stripped of its nonprofit status and must cease operations so that a new LGBTQ+ and trans rescue group can quickly be established and get to work.

[Alt text and screenshots follow after the jump.]

STATEMENT OF ANIMAL J. SMITH REGARDING THE RAINBOW PASSAGE SMEAR CAMPAIGN

These allegations are false. Rainbow Passage is deliberately and maliciously spreading lies about me to hundreds of thousands of people on this and other platforms in a calculated smear campaign to cover up their reckless disregard for the safety of their vulnerable clients and their failure to protect them. To date, they have provided no explanation or evidence of "transphobic rhetoric and behavior" on my part. They failed to protect me, a former director of the organization, from sustained and brutal online harassment, threats, doxing, and stalking that began more than three weeks ago and continues unabated with the active encouragement of chair Amy Nicole Check and the members of the board, putting me and my family in danger of being driven from our home and causing major distress and disruption to our lives and health.

On Saturday, April 13th, I received word that the Rainbow Passage website had been targeted by YouTube streamers who had seen a rival say good things about the organization and went to the website to find information that would "expose" Rainbow Passage. The trolls found my name and photograph, then went into my public-facing social media and began streaming about me and my life and work.

In several lengthy videos and livestreams, the YouTube trolls held me and my family up for sustained public ridicule, humiliation, and targeted harassment, spreading to more than a quarter-million people details about my personal life, my sex life, my family, my being a survivor of September 11th, the fact that I have AIDS, and every other aspect of my life and history that they could harvest. Although my social media is largely public by design, the contents were never intended to be stolen and distributed to thousands in a malicious manner designed to damage me.

The only reason I was targeted and humiliated in this way is that I was a director for Rainbow Passage and was discovered when the organization's unsecured, login-free website was targeted - a scenario I had warned them about on multiple occasions. Despite my warnings, no security measures were ever implemented. On Monday, April 15th, I resigned my position due to Check's exploding at me in an unprovoked torrent of verbal abuse during a call that afternoon.

My work as an LGBTQ+ and HIV/AIDS activist over the past 38 years (including ACT/UP, Queer Nation SF, AIDS quarantine initiatives, medical cannabis, marriage equality, and prisoners with AIDS) is well known and has always included advocacy for the transgender community. In fact, I have prioritized trans rights activism in response to the rising tide of hatred toward transgender Americans, and I have received support from people in the transgender community who know me and have seen me in action as an activist and a friend.

After an initial offer of help that wouldn't come for a full week, I said that my family and I were in immediate danger, that this was happening solely because I was part of their organization, and that their security failure was to blame. They then instantly denied any responsibility, blamed me for the situation, and withdrew their offer of help. I have been told that they are aware of the ongoing harassment and cyberbullying being directed at my family and me. They knew that this statement would intensify the threats, harassment, and stalking of me and my family. They issued it anyway. This statement is a willful and malicious act of violence.

Rainbow Passage was threatened by the leaders of these attacks that if they did not "denounce" me they would face the loss of their tax-exempt status and worse. As part of the threat, I was featured on the front page of the notorious Kiwi Farms website, a 4chan-like forum known for driving their LGBTQ+ targets into hiding and to suicide.

Rainbow Passage caused a queer elder with AIDS to be featured on a website known for harassing LGBTQ+ people to death and driving them from their homes, while smearing him to hundreds of thousands of people and inciting attacks on him and his family - but they want you to trust them to keep our most vulnerable members safe from harm.

These liars want you to believe the fiction that a four-decade LGBTQ+ activist is a predatory transphobe. They think you'll fall for the stories they're telling and approve of the damage they're causing. What nerve. Their contempt for me - and for you - has no place in our community or in our lives.

- Animal J. Smith, April 25, 2024

[physalian]

Exposition 2: Naming New Characters

This post is brought to you by one of the worst line deliveries in the history of Supernatural: Sam’s reveal of Ruby 2.0 in “Lazarus Rising”. Also a companion post to not playing The Pronoun Game.

—

Introducing new characters to a scene and figuring out the precise moment to announce their name without sounding clunky can be very tricky. So let’s break it down into three scenarios:

Name is known by the narrator to be given in narration

Name is either known by the narrator, to be given in dialogue, or known by another character

Name is not known to anyone in the scene but the new character

Scenario 1: Name via narration

Personally I don’t have any problem whatsoever with: “This is character, they do X.” It’s quick, inoffensive, and doesn’t need to get convoluted and over complicated.

Now, if this is meant to be a reveal to the audience, you’ll have to play the Pronoun Game for a bit until you pull the trigger (so long as it is motivated and reflects back on the characters and isn’t just because the author is bad at suspense), but I’d recommend reworking the scene so your narrator discovers this information with the reader for the lowest risk of confusing your audience.

Generally I think if you introduce a new character into a scene via epithet, then in the next paragraph have the narrator use their name, I think the audience is smart enough to pick up on: “new entity has arrived on stage = unfamiliar name must belong to them” so you can even skip the exposition tag entirely.

The cook returned from the dining room, freshly traumatized by a wild Karen. Tyler took a breath, steadied themselves, and resumed their station.

Scenario 2: Name via other character, or dialogue

This is the aforementioned Supernatural blunder. There doesn’t appear to be a clip for this specific scene on YouTube so the moment in question:

Ruby: [Walks in through the back door] “Getting pretty slick there, Sam. Better all the time.” Sam: [Sighs, and contemplates all his life choices that led to this moment] “What the hell’s going on around here, Ruby?” [Pause for dramatic effect and damn-near looks into the camera]

Ruby’s “Sam” is delivered seamlessly and is flavored with some dry wit, in character for Ruby.

Sam, on the other hand, not only pauses before saying her name, but emphasizes her name in a completely unnatural way. I didn't do it justice here explaining how clunky this is, just trust me.

Nothing sounds or reads quite so juvenile like awkwardly tacking on a new character’s name to dialogue when no real person would talk like that. The line serves purely as exposition and it’s glaringly obvious and uncreative?

How to fix? As I said in my other exposition post: Make it motivated. Have the name reveal come with either inflection, tonality, or dual purpose so it’s not just exposition.

Meaning:

Have speaker be trying to get the person’s attention, and call their name

Have the speaker admonish the person, using their name

If this is a happy reunion, have the speaker excitedly exclaim the name

If this is a bad reunion, have the speaker mutter, growl, whisper, or grumble the name

If this is a surprise reunion, have them speak the name like a question

Have the speaker use a nickname the new character doesn’t like, prompting a correction to their real name

Have the speaker blank, prompting the new character to supply it, while offended that they forgot

Have the known character introduce the new character after a few exchanges that isolate the narrator, prompting an explanation a la “Sorry, this is X, they’ve been my friend for years.”

Scenario 3: Name via new character

Very similar to above with the same advice: Make it motivated and double as clueing us in on something either about the new character, or about the characters’ relationship with the scene, or how they see themselves, or how they expect this meeting to go.

If they’re bold, sassy, or snarky, they introduce themselves like they expect their audience to be impressed

Or, if they expect that name to already be known, and are surprised or irritated that they must introduce themselves

Straight up, have someone ask them who they are if they’re not supposed to be there

Or have someone ask them in a social faux pas, blurting out the question and then being embarrassed by doing so

Have the asker be rude, demanding an introduction where it might otherwise not be appropriate

Have them introduce themselves with uncertainty, if they’re shy or unsure about where they’re supposed to be

You get the idea? Whatever it be, make it be in character, and you’ll pull double-duty (as most exposition should) both naming your character and immediately establishing a relationship between your characters.

Scenario 4: When plot demands you must wait

Bonus! This happens when asking for a name would ruin the pacing and be wildly out of place in whatever’s happening (like mid-fight scene), or the narrator is unable to ask for plot reasons.

In which case, this still can pull double-duty by having your narrator come up with their own way of identifying the person: maybe they come up with a cute or insulting nickname, or a unique feature stands out that they’re jealous they don’t have, or there’s an identifiable piece of clothing or uniform to call them by their profession (works well for a group of distinct unknowns), or they’re acting in a suspicious fashion and can be labeled with a derogatory adjective.

At which point, narrator can either sleuth out their name themselves or it falls into one of the previous three scenarios.

Point being, once again, you are establishing a relationship between these two characters as soon as they’re on page together. Your exposition is pulling double-duty.

[dduane]

I've been enjoying the recent Middle Kingdoms works, and was especially taken by the ritual hospitality in "The Landlady". It seemed reminiscent of traditional Irish phrases I've encountered translated into English. If there any influence? To what degree has Ireland leaked into your understanding of the Middle Kingdoms and their cultures?

Re: the Irish influence: there's occasionally some effect on casual idiomatic usages in characters' general conversation, yes. In fact, while doing some editing work on TOTF3: The Librarian just a day or three ago, I caught Freelorn's edgy friend-who-killed-him-that-one-time, Sem, using phrases that unquestionably were not just Irish-originated, but Ulster-originated. :) (And plainly this is @petermorwood's fault. But since the character seems comfortable with the usage, and from where I'm sitting it sounds right for him, I'm not going to mess with it.)

As regards Irish influence on the Kingdoms' formal hospitality-language and culture, though, I'm not seeing much evidence of that. Not that I haven't done a fair amount of reading about Brehon law and other adjacent matters over time as a matter of casual research. But none of that seems to be reflected in any of the notes I made on the Kingdoms' cultures while developing them.

The connection I am pretty sure of is to translations of stock epithets and phrases (and the presence of various general concepts and actions) associated with the practice of formal xenia in ancient Greece, particularly as described in the Odyssey.

In particular, the Kingdoms' worldview seems to share a core concept with the ancient Greek one as regards xenia. This is the idea that personified Deity is walking around in the world, making itself responsible for the protection of people who call on others' hospitality. Both cultures have the idea that people's behavior may be tested by the gods—or God(dess)—to see how well they're obeying the rules set out regarding the welcome properly due to strangers and those in need.*

In the Kingdoms, the concept has had what seemed to me like a more or less logical expansion into the relationship between the heads of organized Houses—what we could equate with local familial lordships, though the actuality in the Realms is a lot less patriarchially hierarchical and more complex—and the people who come to hold land of/from the Houses' heads.

So it made sense to me that there would be basic gestures and phrases that express agreement to various aspects of the contract between a House's head and their holders. Since both writing and literacy died off during that alternate Earth's domination by the Dark, and had to be revived and relearned after its destruction, this contract was for a long time always verbal. Over the centuries, ritualized concrete practices—the exchange of bread and water between Holders and head of House, for example—grew up alongside the spoken content to make it plain that everybody understood the nature and intention of the contract. These, too, I derived from material in the Odyssey and other works of that period: situations, for example, where simply eating something that someone else has given you is itself confirmation that the contract between host and guest is in place and working.

Anyway: thanks for the question. Hope this helps!

*But then readers of the MK books will of course recognize this as the kind of thing the Goddess already does in Her world—not being one of those lurking-and-skulking sorts of deity who leaves you wondering all your life about whether they're real or not. Her basic contract with Her creation already contains the concept that everybody gets to meet Her personally at least once; and—either in Her proper person, or in the form of other people—sometimes more than once. Because yeah, She's busy... but what's the point of being a deity if you don't have the time to sit down with your creation for drinks every now and then...?

[imlivinginyourtrashcan]

Since the votes for the og poll are coming to a close, id like to know;

[ewanmitchelll]

Imagine Taylor Swift’s songs (IV): Say Don’t Go.

Imagine you are a peasant who rescues Aemond after he fought his uncle Daemon Targaryen—but in this universe he didn’t die drowned, but suffered a wound that you, with your simple knowledge of medicine, actually manage to heal you. What shall happen then?

Warnings: fluff, violence, drama, angst.

***

• A Dance With Dragons

In between fire and ashes, blood has never been thicker. The one-eyed prince, on behalf of his infamous brother, is ready to take leave. Unbeknownst to him, as he mounts Vhagar, destiny sets a worse fate than the assumption of victory for all parties.

Here he goes, a path of blood behind this man—who tasted frustration and rejection all his life, lusting for what was never his by any right, tied in a very suffocating loyalty to his family.

Here he goes, moved by agony and pain, he who is hated by his enemies and despised by those who support the charismatic Aegon.

Here he goes… mounted in an ancient beast, prompted to finally write his name in the pages of history. Aemond, the kinslayer, the embodiment of fire and blood, flies in roaring skies.

And not too long after he meets his mirror, the one he wanted to be in life—a better version, certainly—, the kin who inspired him despicable sentiments—if perhaps in another occasion he would be this man’s favourite nephew.

This is not the moment for words to be spoken out. Warriors like them feel no need to exchange offenses. War is coming in thunderous storms. Higher than men, above divine heavens, uncommon relatives fight one another.

“DRACARYS, VHAGAR!”

His scream dies unheard, as the wind blows away the anger in his throat. Believing to possess such an ancient dragon, warlord like him, he doesn’t foresee that years and size are not by his side.

Daemon Targaryen and his Caraxes are faster and better equipped for this battle. Experience is also an advantaged tool played by the aforementioned prince towards his rascal nephew.

The skies shake and many are misled to think this is a thunder. But this is hardly a thunderstorm. Later the chroniclers would report it as a dance of the dragons, where this deadly combat between two great warlords and their gigantic beasts collided in such a way that as frightening as it was to watch, it seemed so as the involved were…dancing.

But Vhagar’s flesh and blood provide difficulty to Caraxes. Bites here and there, sounds that roared through the air, producing sparks of electrons and fire all the whilst their riders try to dismount the other.

The heights pose an inevitably invitation for prompt death. It’s only a matter of time until one of them falls, if not both of them do.

Skies grow darker and rain eventually drops. Caraxes, fighting better under this environment, twists the scene to his favor, surprising Vhagar. What happpens next is too fast to describe. Later, peasants would recall how a great beast like Vhagar fell upon the sea… without Lord Aemond on her back.

A question would haunt Aegon’s twilight reign: where has Lord Aemond Targaryen gone to?

To worse Aegon III’s rise to the throne, a shadow is casted. No body was found. Therefore… should it be presumed the rogue prince died? If so, not in his former mistress’s arms.

Where is Aemond Targaryen? What happened to the one-eyed lord, famed for his kinslayer epithet?

• Blue skies, fields painted green•

I’ve known it from the very start. We’re a shot in the darkest dark. Oh, no. I’m unarmed…

By the time you rescue him, you think he’s been dead and gone. But for a long while you, a simple curious being who, however, learned to study thanks to your older brother’s connection with literate beings, suspected not all was like appearances led to.

You managed to carry this strange man, aware he was in his worst conditions, to your household. It’s a very simple, typical peasant house. And this was a man you’ve never seen in these surroundings… especially because of his fancy robes, a positive indicator of his nobility.

Unaware of the details of this civil war, you took care of him. Ignoring his handsomeness, you dedicated day and night until he eventually opens his eyes.

And when he does… it’s a scandal. Most of all because he is still hurting in his chest and to breathe requires some energy. Then comes the revolt upon seeing he’s nowhere he’s familiar with.

Before he starts to rage out his frustration, the prince is prevented from doing so at the sight of you. A peasant, certainly a damsel despite being closer to him in age, shows up.

“L-L-Lord, please”, you know you’ve been bold in keeping him with you, in weaving illusions to escape your life, all of which makes you blush and sink into his feet. “I only tried to help you.”

Something about your smooth voice eases him. When looking better at you, Aemond’s chest hurts for being reminded of his sweet sister Helaena. He knows he could never do any harm to you.

“Rise, creature who saved my life”, and when you do, the silver haired man looks enchanted at your y/c soft skin, the mystery behind your y/c eyes… “I demand to know your name.”

“Y/N Y/LN, lord”, you whisper, still avoiding his gaze.

But it’s for no effort you do so as he looks for yours, holding your chin as he lifts it up. You see danger right before you, posing threat as he stands in front of you. Nevertheless, he is so alluring that to resist is just… pointless.

“Don’t call me lord. I’m Aemond”, he softens to you, his hand slipping to your throat gently before letting go of you, leaving behind a sensation of void and cold where there had been warmth. “It appears that if I fell here, my uncle took the best of me.”

You nod your head partly.

“You need to be careful, lo… Aemond. Your wounds are still fresh”, you bring him to outside for the very first time since you rescued him.

The prince, shirtless and dressing an old pair of pants, follows you, reluctant somewhat as what to find. He is, however, surprised when seeing there is nothing but a careful mix of colors. Deep blue that paints these cloudless skies and a shade of green that colors the hills and the grasses nearby.

The air is clean and the prince finds peace. However, when spotting, from that distance, the sea, this peace is replaced by angst.

“Vhagar”, he remembers painfully. “Where is she?”

When seeing a puzzled look on your face, Aemond has to remember himself you are a peasant, who probably judged dragons as mythical creatures. But he underestimates you.

“Ser, I may be poor and obscure, but I am not illiterate”, you speak impatiently. “I know who Vhagar is. I must say, though, that you were already dismounted by the time I found you. If you fell from such a height, this only means you are lucky that you are still alive.”

Aemond’s good eye transmits such a depth of sadness that you feel remorse for speaking like that to him. The prince doesn’t notice it, though, so he decides to walk outdoors and there sit amidst the high grass as a way to cope with his loss.

At first, all you do is watch him. This tall, paled prince with long silver hair, involved in a bandage around his waist with a skin painted in deep scars, is now the embodiment of melancholy.

Your reason tells you to leave him there, the moon is too high to grasp it, but your feet don’t obey your sense. It doesn’t take too long before you sit next to him.

“I’m sorry for your loss”, you break the silence hesitantly. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

He doesn’t respond you ar first, and you wonder whether he heard you or are ignoring you. But he turns his face at you eventually, still plagued by that shade of sadness few can be gladly dissociated from.

“You’ve done all you could, mistress Y/N. Thank you. You shall be rewarded.”

“My reward is your well being, lor… Aemond”, you offer him an understanding small smile.

These words prove to be the balsam he needs.

“I appreciate it, truly. In due time…” Aemond sighs, not willing to admit how lost he feels. “Do you have any news of what’s going on?”

By the looks of your face, the prince understands that what might come from you are not what he wants to hear. Even so, he must hear it. In this silent communication, though, there is little need to further comprehension.

Therefore you tell him about Lord Daemon’s victory. A short victory, however, as the common folk said that due to the gravity of his wounds eventually culminated in the said prince’s death.

What happened next was confused. You didn’t understand politics very well and you were too busy minding your own business to do so. Nevertheless, it’s common knowledge that the Seven Kingdoms have a new king.

“A new king?”, Aemond exclaims frustrated. “But Jaehaerys is just a boy!”

The embarrassment in your face only worsens his disappointment.

What, in seven hells, has happened in this short time I was unconscious?

“This is not his name, Ser. Our king is Aegon, Third of His Name.”

Aemond pales and for a moment you step back, fearful of his fury. But all the silver prince does is clench his jaw and turn his back on you for a moment. And you let him be all the time he needs.

***

• Healing…

I'm standin' on a tightrope alone. I hold my breath a little bit longer. Halfway out the door, but it won't close. I'm holdin' out hope for you…

A strange process it is to watch events unfold from the support ground. Witnessing from darkness the arrival of the Starks and then all the gathering leading to Aegon III’s ascension next to Rhaenyra, who, apparently, had transmitted her claim to the Iron Throne to her eldest son and heir, was too much for him to bear… especially now aware of the passing of every one he’d known and fought for.

But in due time, his silence and mourning become too much a burden for him to carry alone.

“I’m surprised you are still out here”, you tell him in one of these evenings you come home and find the prince there.

“Where else I’d go?”, Aemond shrugs his shoulders.

His eyes are glued in you, finding new expressions in your introspective features. You are different, a thought occurs him. What had happened outside to bring you more serious today? A question he does not dare to pose.

“To your mistress, perhaps”, a response that, albeit reluctant, transmits some grumpiness on your part.

For the first time in many moons, Aemond Targaryen smiles.

“Mistress?”, he repeats and you miss the amusement out of his voice.

“Mistress Rivers. Perhaps this is a name very familiar to you”, you don’t know why rolling the name of his former paramour sounds poisonous to your ears, inspiring a hearty agony and an inner despair.

As Aemond studies you, every piece comes to make sense when glued together. At first he says nothing, finding adorable how a creature so introspective like you, kept innocent and wild at the same time from mundane’s ill intentions, discovers new sentiments, obscured as jealousy and attachment might sound.

He could take the opportunity to write a new story, but even now… Aemond struggles to disassociate from the past.

“She was once attributed to many meanings, some of which had linkings to my personal affections”, Aemond admits, taking the opportunity to sip his ale. “But once we parted ways, I do not believe we are meant to mend it back.”

You cast him a long distrustful look, opting for the silence, even though there is so much being said in your body language. Aemond rises up and moves to where you stand, gently but firmly taking grip of your arm.

“Y/N, look at me”, he demands you gently. “Why have you brought her name out of the blue?”

You hesitate and Aemond can only be led to think there’s some bad news ahead. You take some breath and then look at him, as if struggling for courage.

“I cannot keep you here any longer, lord. I’ve been selfish, I see that now. But looking after my lord has given me purpose. All of this to say that people have been looking for you.”

“Looking for me”, he repeats. “Do not believe in what people say, my darling. My enemies are in power, the best we can do is hide for the moment. This means I must shave my head to keep the identity in secrecy.”

He surprises you, and even himself, with this new sense of resignation. But this is a wise move, considering no one had found his body, therefore the mystery must remain for his sake.

Nonetheless, he likes this life with you. Aemond smiles before holding you against him.

“I got used to you, dear one. Looks like I’m staying longer this time.”

That being said, he admires how wide you smile. No one had ever made him feel this sentiment before. He realizes now that what you two have is too sacred to let it be profaned.

• Pain & Blood

Why'd you have to lead me on? Why'd you have to twist the knife? Walk away and leave me bleedin', bleedin'? Why'd you whisper in the dark? Just to leave me in the night? Now your silence has me screamin', screamin'…

When he kisses you under moonlight in between the shadowy green fields, your mind goes blank and your heart races loud. When his tongue moves the way to your neck, your legs automatically spread to welcome his strong body; his arms now moving upper your back, caressing you slowly, aching in slow burn as you call out his name in sweet whispers.

“Mine lady”, his lips pursuit yours once more.

It’s past twilight. Silenced by the night, nature welcomes you in this wilderness out of the fancy troubles and the troublesome webs woven by the Black party.

You provide him home and security, the sweet taste of genuine love he’s been looking for. With him, likewise.

It’s free, intense and healing.

“We should better head inside”, he grumbles under his breath, struggling not to give free path for his desires.

You giggle softly, giving him a long look. As you straighten yourself, you hear him say:

“My lady, you bring the best of a beast like me.”

You spin around him, looking like a fairy with your simple white gown and y/c hair loose in your back.

“Is this you accusing me of witchcraft, lord? For I shall not tolerate such an accusation”, you put your hands around his neck.

“Nay. You are too pure for it”, and Aemond knows this must not be the result of bewitching, since the purity of your care and love inspires the same of a man like him.

Beneath the mask of a bad prince, there lies a wounded man who’s known neglect all his life. The concept of love Alys brought to him was more lustful, fleshy attachment than sentimental one.

But when the shadow of those three words comes behind your eyes, mirroring his own, Aemond fears to hear them. Kissing your lips once more, he prays to forget what he saw… for a recent, deep wound has come to open in surface.

As you lead him into your household again, precisely to what you call being your quarters—the result of the inheritance of your father—you give in your heart at every touch, every embrace this man provides you.

When you begin to picture the two of you actually living this life together, when you start to think possible that you could marry and be content in being a simple peasant… every dream dies when a knock on the door is heard urgently.

“Who on earth…”, you sigh impatiently, making him chuckle.

Aemond snakes his arms behind your waist, resting his chin over your shoulder.

“We should better see who’d be this unwanted visitor”, he laughs quietly, admiring the blush painting your cheeks.

As you reluctantly part of his arms, you move to open the door. Aemond leans against the wall, partly hidden under the shadows, waiting to see who’s the one behind the bloody door.

But when you open and see a dark-haired lady with a skin smooth as milk, your heart stops.

“Oh. So here’s the witch who captured my Aemond”, she speaks in a soft accusing voice, though in the lady’s eyes there is nothing but arrogance.

Aemond reluctantly comes to the scene.

“Alys?”

“My prince”, her voice and smile are as sweet as poison, inspiring in you nothing but disgust. “Your son and I have been waiting for you, believing to be dead and gone. But you have been kept a prisoner by this…”, and here comes the despise poorly masked.”…woman.”

You turn your head quickly to stare at Aemond. He sees pain in your y/c eyes, and the sound of heartbreaking reaches his ears when you say:

“You have a child with her, Aemond?”

“It’s Lord Aemond to you”, she corrects you, but is promptly ignored by all parts.

“She was… pregnant when I went to war”, Aemond admits, embarrassed. “I… Considering the recent events, I thought them to be gone like the rest of my family.”

“No. Your son waits for you. I’ve been looking for you”, insists Alys, much to your consternation. “Let me break this spell she’s casted on you, my prince. You shall be free and live with us as it’s your right.”

Part of you waits for his denial, hopes for it even. Despite the evident struggle in having yourself composed before such accusations, you expect he’d take your side.

You hope…

And I'm yours, but you're not mine. Oh no, oh no, you're not there. I'm standin' on the sidewalk alone. I wait for you to drive by. I'm tryna see the cards that you won't show. I'm about to fold unless you…

But Aemond knows not where his strength lies. This cannot be judged simply following his heart desires. When remembering everything his mother sacrificed for… and then he has a child.

A child of his own that should be on the throne. The mere idea awakes the flames of old vengeance.

Much to her annoyance, on the other hand, Alys watches as the events unfold in an impasse. She presses again the matter of their child, aware this is how she’ll take him away from your claws—or so she judges.

“Aemond?”, your voice comes out suffocated.

He sees those words in your eyes, but they fade out of his grasp like a star losing the shine, swallowed in a black hole.

Night comes and steals your bright, much to his atonement. Aemond wishes he could say something more, but no speech is enough to bring you back to life.

Your innocence is now agony and all he can say is:

“I must go. For my child.”

“I understand”, you speak cooly, surprising him for your reasonable behavior. “I pray you forgive me for any mistakes. I am but a peasant who knows nothing of life.”

That being said you curtsy and leave the way open. You watch as Alys smirks deviously at you, like a winner who takes it all. Aemond hesitates, but you don’t look at him.

Why'd you have to (why'd you have to) make me want you (make me want you)? Why'd you have to (why'd you have to) give me nothin' back? Why'd you have to (why'd you have to) make me love you (make me love you)? I said, "I love you" (I said, "I love you"). You say nothin' back.

And there your heart lies in open bleeding…

***

You occupy yourself delivering the rest of planting to the lord you owe fealty after spending months in working with the land. It’s easier to forget about the past when one occupies one’s mind with daily tasks.

This doesn’t mean the nights are easier, though. You are haunted by his face, by scenes where he laughs joyfully with Lady Rivers. She tells you that, as a lowborn woman, you could never be with a highborn man as Lord Aemond.

A truth sharp as knife that wakes you up in the breaking dawn, bleeding you again and again… It hurts and though you swallow salt in your mouth, no other sign is there that you have been in suffering.

In the meantime you carry on with your life, or try to, Aemond is rediscovering his life amongst nobility. The boy his former mistress claimed to be his son is not, by all means, a Targaryen. He could tell she painted his hair and by calculating his age, he was far more likely being a Strong boy than else his. Specially because by the time he took Alys Rivers as his mistress, she was already a Strong’s concubine.

With this disappointment ahead and collecting the testimonies of her witchcraft, Aemond is no fool to realize he’s been stuck in a trap and that he could be sent to the new government’s hand anytime.

I shall not have a death by treason.

The only reasonable solution is escaping. He is no coward, in fact the prince was once too prideful to embrace defeat. However, Aemond’s mind recollects your innocence, your simple ways of living and how you taught him so many good things.

The teachings that promised to make him a rightful man despite his wrongs. Is he too late to be redeemed, though?

Why'd you whisper in the dark just to leave me in the night? Now your silence has me screamin', screamin'…

I should have not let you go, Y/N.

In silence, like always, the prince leaves all that has profaned his soul to search after the only sacred path someone put him in.

And this someone is you.

• ‘I would stay forever if you say don’t go…’

You have cleaned your body in the river and now choose to sit right there over a towel, partly fearful of being seen in your nude state, partly pleased to be able to feel some degree of liberty.

Sun is ready to set and it’s last rays are set on your y/c skin, drying the last drops of the cold water you dived in. As you stand, you are ready to dress yourself when a noise scares you.

Quickly you put your white gown with black strips, unable to tie your long y/c hair when you spot him.

Head shaved still, pained eyes, dressed not like a nobleman but like a random, common peasant lad. So would he look like had he not been blessed with such deep purple eyes that are staring into your y/c ones.

“A-Aemond”, you gasp. Your body begins to tremble and you wish you could run away, but you are frozen.

“Y/Nickname”, he comes after you, hesitantly at first, confidently then. “Apologies are not enough for what I did to you, to us. I humble before my lady and come to ask you not to go.”

He is on his knees before you. He, the prideful prince.

“You are the one who left”, your voice betrays you.

“I had to”, Aemond dares to raise his chin as his hands grip tight your thighs. “I had to. I was misled to think the boy she had was my child.”

“And if he was”, you mutter, the echo of pain rolling out through your words, much like a sharpened blade. “Would you be embarrassed of my station to keep me in ignorance?”

“Fuck, Y/N, no!” He realizes no words are enough to make up for his poor doings. Nevertheless, he tries. Aemond is no quitter. “I am not embarrassed of my lady. I learned to love you out of my heart and soul, despising mundane affairs in order to pursuit the divine one. I was raised from the seven hells to taste the sweet flavor of your divine lips. I want you. Only you can redeem me.”

It’s the way his fingers dig into the cloth of the skirt of your gown that makes you feel fragile. The way he breaks before you, how his words are whispered in despair. Remorse is sincere, pain is evident in the two of you.

Why delaying it?

But then you hear a sound so strange to you. To both of you. When your hearts cry out, you slip, losing your strength.

“You are my weakness”, he says, exposing himself to you.

No sapphire. No embellishment. No pride. The prince the way he is, with his scars. And you expose yours.

Darkness rises by the time you are engulfed in his embrace.

“I’m sorry”, Aemond whispers, fearful of losing you. “I won’t leave you ever again. This I vow over my dead family.”

You are still sobbing when he vows this to you. And when his lips are colliding against yours, every angst dies at long last. And what is cold now is warm, and suddenly the weight of the clothes begins to be unbearable.

With only the moon as witness, vows are exchanged, consumed in one kind of fire that burns each part, prompted to spread in a strange kind of fever so unknown to you.

As tongue dances, bodies intertwine and pain is at long last overcome. The consequence of this redemption is to fruit nine moons later.

In the end, in between wars and peacemakings, two different lives found in each other what they needed. The destiny of Aemond Targaryen became a great “what if” in the history, a name so powerful to haunt crowned men but humbled before the kindest lady of the Seven Kingdoms.

Turned into a love song many years later, bards would give Aemond another name, calling you Jenny of the Oldstones.

Perhaps a truth hints behind it, is it not? But only your descendants would know it and smile often at such beautiful song.

[fablefan]

Y'know what I would love to see? A production of Sweeney Todd that plays up the "Demon Barber" epithet by adding in the element that he might, quite literally, be demonically possessed somehow. Even better if it's purposefully ambiguous about whether it's true or not and leaves the audience second-guessing and doubting themselves after it all.

It makes Todd's actions all the more ambiguous and might even make him more sympathetic. Is he actually possessed, and his bloodlust is just its manifestation in the body of a man still grieving his family? Is he one mortal man who's gone mad from his experiences that he starts a murderous campaign against the world around him? Who knows. Sweeney nor the audience does.

It goes from a story about the dangers of taking revenge, but also plays into the similar elements of 'people will do desperate and horrible things if it means getting what they want'.

It also makes him more of a foil to the villain of the story, a religious judge who is also keeping up appearances and hiding his heinous actions.

The idea of "Benjamin Barker is dead, it's Todd now" might not be an exaggeration or a metaphor. Or maybe it is.

Epiphany (noun): a manifestation of a divine or supernatural being.

He's weirdly aggrieved with dates and people's exact words, like he's on a contract or time limit ("'Before the week is out,' that's what he said." // It was due to arrive / At a quarter to five— / And it's six o'clock!")

He dumps bodies to the lower level / ground floor of the theater, which, historically, was referred to as Hell.

Lighting changes and the stage going red when Sweeney kills someone, or potentially when he's plotting or still focused on vengeance alone.

If Sweeney really did bargain with the devil for revenge against Judge Turpin in exchange for something, once the judge is dead and slides down the chute, Sweeney is alone. Truly, finally alone with his thoughts and actions and the numerous lives on his bloody hands, and is being told he can rest now. And then he learns his wife has died at his own hands and his crusade -- whether it really was his own or not -- was all for nothing.

Miss Lovett being just halfway crazy enough herself to see this man who's definitely got something Wrong With Him in more ways than one and still wanting to tap that.

[moonlight1237]

Elder ᚠᚱᛖᛁᛃᚨ Younger ᚠᚱᛁᛁᛁᛅ

Freyja/Frøya (The Lady)

Epithets And Titles

Gullveig (gold-greed) Her more magical and ruthless side is closely associated with fire due to her being burned but not harmed

Vanadis (lady of the Vanir) Her neural side has a little bit of all her aspects and is what you normally call on

Gefn (giver) Her motherly giving side associated with fertility and harvests etc

Horn (flax) Her side associated with Love, sex, and playfulness

Mardoll (root word Marr meaning sea. Sea bright) One of her sides associated with death and war

Syr (sow)

Valfreyja (Lady of the Slain) Another side associated with Death and War

Lady of fire

Heid (Völva from Voluspa)

Thrung

Lady of the Disir

Skialf

Queen of Folkvangr

Chief of the Vanir

Queen of the valkyrie

Possessor of the fallen

Ruling/Domain

Folkvangr is her realm and Sessrumnir is her hall.

(and is sometimes said to be where she takes her half of the dead but this is disputed)

Family

Njord is her father and her mother is never mentioned but is speculated to be Skadi or Njords sister, an unnamed Vanir goddess. Her twin is Frey(r). She has 2 daughters Hnoss and Gersemi both of which translate to "treasure" though only mentioned in Christian sources and Gersemi is only mentioned once. In the Eddas, it says she has a husband named Oðr which is one of Odin's names, and gets into the Frigga and Freyja debate.

History

I won't get too much into the debate on her and Frigga but by the myths, they are different and separate beings. Historically they were possibly the same once and split over time but they are not the same now.

Frøya has a necklace she always wears. Its name is Brisgamen is a torc/necklace made by the dwarves and frøya supposedly spent a night with each of them who made it to get Brisingamen. In other myths Thor wears it dressed as Frøya during the fake wedding to Thrym the giant who stole Thor's hammer, then when Loki stole it and gave it to Odin when Odin made her start a war to get it back.

She also had a Boar named Hildisvini "Battle-swine" which she turned her husband oðr into and rode in one of the myths.

In the Grimnismal translation, it says "then" Odin picks not "and" giving the idea Freyja picks first but it's never mentioned otherwise. But modernly we accept that she does have the first pick.

Gullveig is believed to be another name for frøya she was a sorceress who predicted the Æsir, Vanir war and was burned alive 3 times by the Æsir each time coming back to life and was struck by spears and still didn't die.

She, like Odin, was known to use many different names throughout the myths and in her travels.

She's the one who taught Odin and the other Æsir gods how to do Seidr magic.

After the Æsir, Vanir war they exchanged hostages, and Frøya, Njordh, and Frey went to live with the Æsir in Asgard.

It's rumored but never confirmed if Freyr and Freyja have Elven ancestors. But she is NOT a valkyrie; the only sources with that are later Christian sources; this is believed to be the same thing as making her out to be a love goddess and sexualizing her.

The myths never actually show her as a Vølva but her association with magic gives us the idea she is.

She also had a chariot that was pulled by cats sometimes people believe they’re Lynx.

Historical worship/practice

She had a fertility cult in the Viking age that stopped due to Christianity and a cult that lasted up until Snorri's age and time but that stopped soon after. She and Frigga were called on during childbirth, historically our source coming from a midwife.

Associations

Death

Love

Lust

Magic (especially Seidr)

War

Cats

Wealth

Divination

Fertility

Beauty

Glory

Days of the Week

Friday

Special days

Alfarblót (The first day of winter celebrated in the home in private the time when we connect to ancestral magic to the Elven folk)

Elements

Fire

Numbers

9

Colors

Gold (fav)

Light Pink

Green (fav)

Copper

Silver

Yellow

Light Purple

Red

Brown

Planet

The Moon

Animals

Cats

Horses

Boar/Sows

Rabbits

Swallows

Lynx

Falcons/Birds of prey

Ladybugs

Cuckoo

Plants

And flowers

Basil

Roses

Roseroot

Common Valerian

Mugwort

Rosemary

Apples

Primrose

Raspberries

Strawberries

Cinnamon

Poppy's

Daisy's

Almonds

Hay

Snow Blossoms

Linden

Essential oils/incense

Strawberry

Lavender

Lilac

Juniper

Cinnamon

Any sweet scents

Any baked good scents

Amber

Mint

Peppermint

Rose

Mulberry

Rosemary

Vanilla

Jasmine

Cypress

Sandalwood

Myrrh

Birch

Crystals

Rose quartz

Amber

Gold

Carnelian

Citrine

Any moonstone

Malachite

Black Tourmaline

Pink Tourmaline

River rock

Rubies

Divinational associations (runes/tarot)

Fehu, Sowilo, Berkano, Queen of wands, Queen of swords, The empress, The high priestess, The lovers, The star (Wildwood deck The Seer, and The Woodward)

Offerings and Devotional acts

Any Meads

Flowers (pressed or fresh)

Anything handmade for her

Stretching

Learning sword work

Exercising

Things respectfully taken from nature

Jewelry

Poetry (especially traditional Norse)

Hot coco

Any tea

Wine

Sweet drinks or spice like cinnamon

Potatoes

Stews

Any meats

Any Berries

Ethically gathered Bones, Cat claws, and cat whiskers (DO NOT HARM AN ANIMAL FOR THESE)

Self-Care

Spending time in nature

Learning runes

Learning distaff spinning

Any imagery associated with her

Learning magic or divination

Any baked goods (bread, muffins, honey cakes, etc)

Honey

Honeycomb

Cat statues

Boar imagery

Fostering cats/kittens

Lighting candles every day in her honor

Burning incense for her (she likes things with flames or burning)

Bonfires

Flax bundles

A staff making a staff for your craft if you practice Seidr they are commonly used in it and you could make your devotional staff for that and have it by her alter.

Alter Suggestions

Candles

Bones

Jewelry (especially gold-colored)

Statues of her or her cats

Swords/axes/spears/shields

Wooden bowls or horn bowls

Incense

Plants

Imagery of Folkvangr

Dedicated Poems about her or love or death

The artwork you make her

Animal pelts

Runes

Fehu imagery

Chants

Runic Chants/chanting the runes

Old Norse songs

(Both are commonly used in seidr)

Signs they may be reaching out

Smelling scents associated with her out of nowhere

Seeing her in dreams and meditations

Becoming more attracted to colors associated with her

Being closer to Cats or cats favoring you a lot or having different behaviors toward you

Views over death and war changed drastically

Having potential in Seidr magic

Being a seer/seeress

Being open to the spirit realm and the dead and speaking to them

Having a very sudden interest in her

Feeling a very feminine energy and string energy in the room (she's not subtle at all)

Liking foods associated with her that you didn't before

Sudden interest in distaff or spindling.

SOURCES

Freyja, Lady, Vanadis: An Introduction to the Goddess

by Patricia M. Lafayllve

Poetic Edda translated by Jackson Crawford

Tales of Norse Mythology by Helen A. Guerber

The Norse Gods and Goddesses (Intro.)

Frigg and Freyja

The Vanir

The Vǫlva (Norse Seeress) and Seiðr

Valkyries (Valkyrjur)

Fólkvangr (Folkvang)

THE NORSE GODS: FREYJA || General info, what working with Freyja is like and offerings

Freyja (Freya) Norse Goddess of Love, Warriors, and Cats

My Experiences with Deities: Freyja

Seiðr Magic and Gender

https://teaandrosemary.com/freya-goddess/

https://study.com/academy/lesson/goddess-freyja-facts-symbols-norse-mythology.html

https://historycooperative.org/freyja-the-norse-goddess-of-love/

https://historiska.se/norse-mythology/freyja-en/

https://hrafnar.org/articles/dpaxson/asynjur/freyja/

https://www.britannica.com/topic/Freyja

https://www.northvegr.org/nordic-goddess/froya-freyja

https://www.spiritualityhealth.com/freyja-sensuality

[rynnthefangirl]

Thoughts on the first episode of HOTD Season 2:

-As expected, my hatred for Aegon has grown substantially since the previous season. I just find absolutely nothing redeemable about him. He treats war like it is a game, even though it will kill his people. A horrible king. I do enjoy his little brainstorming sesh with his frat bros about epithets-- a perfect example of his ego, and very satisfying knowing that he is in fact remembered as "Aegon the Usurper" and is considered one of the absolute worst kings who ever lived. Wish I could jump through the screen and tell him that.

-Also reminded of my hatred for Crispy Cole, which had cooled in the intervening time as I don't see many people stanning him or justifying him. But he really is just the biggest hypocrite. His reason for hating Rhaenrya is the exact thing that Alicent is currently doing. Another character with zero redeemable qualities.

-I liked Alicent lighting a candle for Luke. Alicent knows that she is in the wrong, that they all are, and a part of her does bitterly regret what happened and empathizes with Rhaenrya. But the tragedy of Show!Alicent is that she was ruled by her spite and jealousy for so long that by the time the consequences of the animosity she brewed start to come, it is too late to go back.

-Blood and Cheese was a disappointment. I don't care about the change to have Daemon send them after Aemond and not specifically Jaehaerys (as far as I'm concerned, if they are going to whitewash the Greens choices, they may as well do it for TB too). But the Sophie's Choice element was the most compelling part of the whole thing, and they just completely erased it. It was RIPE for adaptation too, what a wasted opportunity.

-So sad we didn't see more of Jace and Cregan. I get it, for pacing purposes we can't spend too long in Winterfell, but I feel like they could have had ONE deep and personal conversation between the two of them. Maybe Cregan could have told Jace about his little brother's death, and THAT is the convo that is interrupted with news of Luke's death. Would establish a bond between the two characters with minimal screen time AND plays well into Cregan's eventual role of helping Jace's own little brother ascend the throne. Alas... *sigh*. Though he and Cregan did have good chemistry, maybe they'll deviate from the books and revisit that later in the season/show since they had to cut the Winterfell visit short (I'm delulu).

-But on the other hand, the bits that we did get of Jace were so good! He looks amazing, him crying while delivering his report to Rhaenyra was just heartbreaking. I am so excited to see more of him, he is rapidly becoming one of my favorites.

-Rhaenyra crying over Luke's clothes broke me. I am so so sorry my love, my sweet Queen, I am so sorry that those nasty ass rats did this to you.

-Where are Aegon III and Viserys II :( I'm so desperate for content for them that I interpreted the exchange "Aegon the Strong" "that would be a better fit for my nephew" as a reference to Aegon III even though that doesn't even make sense.

-Overall I feel like it was a lot of setup, which makes sense. Besides B&C missing the mark, I enjoyed it okay, but there wasn't too much substance. Definitely more compelled by the TB side right now than TG, because there just much more emotional weight there.

[ladybracknellssherry]

My collection of writing resources I've gathered for fanfic writing. Grammar, prompts, general writing advice, research tools, thesauruses (or thesauri 😉)... Enjoy!

General

English Language and Usage Stack Exchange

UW Madison Writing Center - Grammar/Punctuation rules/basics

Wheaton College Writing Resources

UNC Writing Tips and Tools

Purchase College Editorial Style Guide

Writing Forum - The Writing Process

Absolute Write Forum

English Plus Grammar Slammer

Onelook Thesaurus

Online Etymology Dictionary

Fiction Writing

Instead Of...Simple Writer's Guide by anaemicc

'How to Become a Better Writer' by @tapwrites

'50 Tips for (Fanfic) Writing' by @ao3commentoftheday

Fic Writing Advice by @radioactive-earthshine

'How to Exploit Facial Expressions' by Kathy Steinemann - absolutely check out the rest of the site too, it is a goldmine.

'Writing Inspiration and Resources' by Bryn Donovan - some digging required but there's tools here for everyone.

'World Building and Writing Advice' + a brilliant list of Prompts, Scenarios, and Dialogues by @pendarling

Writing Questions Answered Masterlist

One Stop for Writer's Character and World Building Thesaurus

ProWritingAid Emotions Thesaurus

Descriptionary - it's...ways to describe things. Just check it out, lmfao.

The Sexy Stuff

KJ Scott's Lewd Vocab Survey Results

'The Smutwriter's Dictionary' by @maybeeatspaghetti

Laurel Clarke's Sexy Thesaurus

Quinn Anderson's Ultimate Guide to Writing Smut

Smut Writing Tips + Smut Thesaurus by @prurientpuddlejumper

'How to Write Smut' by @bohemiantea-scorpiocoffee

Misc.

Tropes

Case Converter

Fake Text Message Generator and Another Fake Text Message Generator for your fics

Epithet Flowchart

Historical Timeline of Slang

Writing Realistic Injuries

Hiveword - Search Engine specifically for writing tools

Mythbank - Sort of a world mythology encyclopedia

Skeptic's Dictionary

Written Sound Onomatopoeia Dictionary

LitCharts Shakespeare Modern Translations

Writing Sketchy Subjects

Ao3commentoftheday Beta Reader Checklist. Actually, for AO3 tips/basics/everythings you just really need to get yourself to ao3commentoftheday's AO3 and read everything there. Including their bookmarks!