#i can't believe this is my life sometimes

[summertimesadnessirl]

They literally just want to pretend that the whole last 50 odd years never happened.

It's so weird. Like? What did you do that you are like this, buddy? Let's talk about it.

Are you upset because you got programmed from birth to believe sex is evil and now you can't get off unless you think God is mad at you and you're committing a crime and one of the people involved in the sex hates it?

Have you heard of BDSM? Because we can literally simulate that feeling just for you using technology for the rest of your life without you having to take over the entire government and kill off a bunch of nice kids with blue hair and shaved eyebrows or who go by a word that makes you think you can't be a naughty boy for wanting to have sex wearing clothes from a different gender occasionally, and those people literally don't care if you wanna be called slurs for doing that when you have sex, believe it or not.

What's your deal? Did it turn out you don't like sex, you just like the idea of something mysterious and otherworldly and pleasureable that nobody introduced you to that other people are totally doing? Because we can fix you right up with drugs and intentionally confusing poetry.

Yeah. You can even start your very own mystery cult if you want, as long as you don't commit genocide or anything. We can all pretend to not know about your mystery cult. We can all pretend to be bad guys from your mystery cult. We can play that game until you barely remember your own name, it's fine.

Do you just need someone to take care of you, like in a disability accommodation kind of way? Or like, are you working too many hours? We can't really fix that with bdsm. We can play that but typically the people doing bdsm only want to play that for a few hours at a time before they need a break, but have you heard about the wonders of automation?

Yeah. We can automate a lot of the stuff that stresses you out like cleaning your floors and paying your bills on time and reordering your prescriptions and your groceries and stuff. It would work better if the minimum wage was higher and the average person got paid more often than biweekly, and we still really need to design housing with a washing machine in the bathroom that washes and dries your clothes instead of putting them in the hamper, but look, we made a little guy who lives in your computer who can take every meeting that should have been an email and turn it into a bulleted list for you. We can also do this thing where he draws pictures of your boss experiencing cartoonish violence or turning into like a weird bug when you are being bullied and it can protect you pretty well from The Emails as well. Yes. I know. The emails are scary.

If your job is really stressing you out you should meet my new friend fully automated luxury communism sometime. Their idea is that we should automate all the jobs where it seems like most of your day is spent kind of hanging out hoping that your boss doesn't realize you aren't working and getting a super high cortisol level for no reason or filling out forms to send to people who use the forms to fill out other forms who get approval via some more forms to make a phone call to a guy who works 20 feet away and give everyone a dividend so that they can work fewer hours and hang out. Yeah, there are a lot of people who believe this who enjoy fighting over the details of that, it's their hobby and also they're all afraid if they don't fight one another a lot they'll turn evil. No, not the sexy kind of evil, the other kind.

Do you need clearly defined rules that you are supposed to follow in social situations in order to feel safe, but also bdsm isn't your thing because you also need other people to follow clearly defined rules? Have you tried video games, team sports, or tabletop games? You might like those.

Did someone hurt you when you were young and call it gender and you didn't realize it because you thought that was just a normal part of growing up and you are getting uncomfortable flashbacks about that time, but talk therapy super doesn't work for you because talking about it makes it worse? That's valid. Have you tried psychedelic drugs yet? Psychedelic drugs have been used to fix that problem and many others like it for generations and generations. Using the magic of psychedelic drugs, we can make sure that you feel totally fine and safe whenever you interact with people being raised in a different way than you were and even carefully obliterate all traces of your childhood trauma for decades at a time. We also can continue to give you more, if that works for ya.

There's really no reason to do nazi shit at all.

Btw, this is how conservatives keep getting to claim that trans people are a new thing no one has ever heard, because our history and existences have continually been erased or obscured systematically through out history.

The most famous example was 92 years when the Nazis raided the library of the Institut für Sexualwissenschaft, the medical practice where the term transsexual was first coined and the first gender affirming surgery was performed in in 1931.

What did the Nazis do after raiding the library on May 6th, 1933? You may be familiar with these images

It is happening again.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

read the leona flaws req(?) and now im curious about silvers flaws. i was gonna ask about kalims too, but it's probably pretty obvious what his are (obliviousness or wtv). but if you've done this before then just ignore this ask m(__)m

[Referencing this post!]

I won’t be going out of my way to make a list of all Silver and Kalim's flaws due to the reasons cited in this post. However, I’m going to at least discuss Kalim here!

This anon proposes that Kalim's flaws are "probably pretty obvious" and mentions that his obliviousness is one such flaw. Yes, that's true. Kalim often does not notice how his requests and ideas impose on others (namely Jamil). At other times, his obliviousness leads to him unintentionally insulting others. For example, he accidentally insults Riddle's lack of stamina by remarking, "You know, it's kinda nice to see even you can't come first in everything, Riddle." Finally, his obscene wealth allows Kalim to not really be cognizant of his privilege; Kalim often does not realize there is a significant wealth disparity between himself and others, and while he isn't mean about it, it can still come off as demeaning when he casually talks about what he has or acts surprised by what others don't have.

Honestly, a lot of Kalim's flaws come from the sheltering that his privilege gives him. He doesn't seem to understand how a lot of things work and doesn't seem to be aware of the struggles that the common man experiences. Kalim also believes that there are easy solutions to what are very complex issues, like claiming that he and Jamil can "start over" and try to be friends and rivals on their own terms. This optimism can be a good thing too though--Kalim chooses to be trusting of others, even if it puts himself in danger, because he doesn't want to live life being suspicious of everyone and everything. When you think about it, Kalim doesn't know when the day could be his last (since there are constant attempts on his life). So his whole "party boy" persona... maybe he's just living it up as best he can because hey, if he dies today then he wants to have gone out like a firework... shining brightly, being happy, etc.

A flaw of Kalim's that I don't see being discussed much--perhaps because it's not as easy to "see", given how cheery he seems and how he has all of his basic needs and more met--is how Kalim actually doesn't entrust much of himself to others. "But wait, Raven!" I hear you saying. "That's not true! Kalim's so generous! He's always throwing parties for others and offering to buy them things. He's also one of the only students to be warm and inviting, and he can get emotional and talk too much about personal details." Yes, you're right! However, that's not the same as Kalim truly being vulnerable. A lot of his dialogue is talking about the fun he has with others or about his family and its business or connections. But what about his troubles? It's not realistic for Kalim to be happy 24/7. Surely he must have bad days too? Problems of his own? A line in his Dorm Uniform card suggests as much: "Mind if I bend your ear about my troubles sometime?" BUT THEN THE INSANE THING IS THAT HE FOLLOWS THAT UP WITH, "Let's see... Hmm... Actually, ever mind, my life is great! Ha ha!"

It sounds like he has issues he wants to share with you, but he never actually does. Instead, he dismisses it and claims that his life is just fine... even though this guy might have tons of trauma from the many assassination attempts on him. He gets ill at the thought of curry because Jamil was harmed in taste testing poisoned curry for him--and even in this story, Kalim is shown to care so much for others, but is unwilling to speak about himself and what he's going through. In book 5, Jamil is, for the first time, selected for his genuine skills over Kalim, who is used to everything being handed to him on a silver platter. Kalim struggles to verbalize why it is that he's frustrated, but resolves to practice more on his own without telling anyone. He even seems a little bashful that Yuu walks in on him, almost like Kalim is hesitant of showing people how he is when he's not happy. He's ultimately able to talk out his feelings with Yuu (which is great), but I'd argue Kalim doesn't truly come full-circle until book 7. That's when he finally makes good on a promise he makes in book 4: that he'll slug Jamil and call him a bad guy for betraying him all the way back then. Here it is in full force, that ugliness that Kalim wasn't ready to let out or come to terms with when we first met him.

I completely understand that it can be harder to spot the shortcomings of someone who so readily masks their problems with the whole "I'm okay! Look at how happy I am!" schtick. I'm not even necessarily accusing Kalim of "faking" it; that's genuinely how he is, and potentially also his main means of coping with whatever issues he's got going on. I think it's really fascinating to consider though! Even when you're as rich and as powerful as Kalim is, he's got his own demons to content with.

[lila-went-missing]

Hey girl! Can I request some fluffy Vi headcannons? <3

Absolutely! I'm finally writing on my laptop, partially because I have the live UConn feed on my phone. They 're playing Tennessee and I'm STRESSING, they're down four points in the last quarter. I hope you love this but I'm sorry if it seems rushed. This kind of turned into general relationship hcs but it’s all very fluffy. X

Fluffy Vi headcanons

For starters, Vi has had anything but an easy like and it really shows through the way that she acts around people.

Originally I think she would be a bit standoffish, especially right after leaving Stillwater.

It might take a while but she would get used to having you around. Her body would definitely take a while for her body to catch up to her mind. Any time you reach out to touch her she might tense up or flinch back, but she knows you wouldn't hurt her. She'd get there eventually it just might take some time and patience.

On the other hand she would love to be touching you.

I wholeheartedly believe that one of her love languages is physical touch.

She can convey feelings through contact that she can't with words.

She would constantly have a hand on you, whether shes holding yours, keeping it on your thigh, or just a hand on the small of your back as you walk.

She likes to have a physical reminder that you're safe and right there.

She'd love it when you lay in her lap, doing your own thing while she reads a book.

When they robbed Jayce's apartment the first place she went was the bookshelf. You can't convince me this girl isn't the biggest bookworm.

I feel like she would run a hand through your hair while you traced patterns on one of her legs.

I also think she would love to read your own copies of the same book and later discuss. I saw someone else mention this and I loved it.

Vi definitely sees herself as a protector so she would love being the big spoon.

The feeling of holding you against her, covering your body with her own.

Especially with how big she is.

She's like 5'10, BROAD shoulder, MUSCLES!!! She'd for sure cover most of your body.

She would not care how much you weigh or if you have some chub, she would pick you up and throw you around in her arms. Argue with the wall.

But despite all of this, sometimes she would need to be held and babied.

She wouldn't ask for it outright, at least not at first.

She would have this look on her face, her brows slightly furrowed and an almost undetectable frown.

But you see it of course.

So you would pull her into your lap, or on your chest, and just lay with you for a while.

Vi seems like the person to LOVE having her hair played with and her back rubbed.

I mean borderline purring because she’s so relaxed.

But who can blame her. With all the work and fighting she does I know her back is full of knots.

Our girl does NOT get a break.

Other than physical touch I think she’d be big on acts of service.

I mean come one her whole life her purpose has been to protect people so you can’t convince me she doesn’t like doing things for you.

It’s a whole range of things. From grabbing something off the top shelf to beating up a guy who made you uncomfortable when you went out for drinks.

Sometimes you have to force her to relax.

But it’s all worth it to her if she’s making your life easier.

I can see you patching her up quite frequently.

Even though she doesn’t fight in the pits anymore she does fight a lot of people for you.

There are a lot of bruised knuckles in your future.

After a while though she’ll settle down, more focused on making you happy than beating up a guy for looking at you.

She loves you very much. It may take her a bit to say it but she does.

She’s shows you her love everyday too through her actions.

You’re by far her favorite person.

She definitely calls you cupcake, among other things.

Other than cupcake, her favorites are probably babe, baby, and princess in a playful way.

HEAVY on Princess if you’re from Piltover.

But she says it with so much love that you don’t mind the playful jab.

I think she’d be addicted to you tracing her tattoo.

Plus you’d never get bored because it’s so big and intricate.

It’s another thing that would knock her out in like five minutes.

Moral of the story she’s addicted to you and wants to spend the rest of her life with you.

[lore-ren-theories]

noooooooo the extent of parallels between Cole's personal quest in inquisition and Solas being a spirit—I know many have pointed out how Solas being confirmed to be a spirit recontextualises Cole's personal quest.

Cole's personal quest and the contrast between Varric and Solas's views in it, in turn, also really furthers my appreciation of Solas's arc in Veilguard.

I'm partway through Noah Caldwell-Gervais' A Thorough Look at Dragon Age, a quote from the video:

"I love the idea that spirits have true, immutable natures. That the way they survive such a chaotic flux of improbabilities, is by being inflexibly true to themselves. It is the material world that is full of hypocrisy and contradiction by comparison. By siding with the world of spirits, Solas is admitting, essentially, that the human world is too hard for him. He is weary of everything that makes it so complicated and so disappointing. It would be easier to go back to how things used to be."

To me that last line sounds like one of the 'easy lies' Solas tells himself, but this did get me thinking.

Even before the Veil, Solas saw so many spirits corrupted after taking on a body. Becoming mortal (killable) and unchanging brings with it not only regret, but a very complex and foreign regret for somebody that used to be formless in an unfixed world.

From the DA wiki, a summary as I can't look up the conversation word for word right now:

Nevertheless, it is not unheard of for spirits to evolve and become more "human" by coming to terms with grief, heal from being emotionally hurt, and thus be able to learn from what they endured. By coming to terms with grief, a spirit is able to grow as a person and not "wash clean" like a spirit.

The way Varric continues to believe in Solas's ability to change despite his wrongdoings is something you can take on yourself as Rook, whether that's because you sympathise with Solas or because you want to honour Varric's wishes.

Varric says Cole needs to work through his emotions, Solas replies that a spirit doesn't work through emotions, it embodies them. Then Varric says:

"But he isn't a spirit, is he? He made himself human, and humans change. They get hurt, and they heal."

That's just like how Varric approaches Solas. Varric knows Solas is an immortal ancient elf, but he doesn't know that Solas was a spirit once. Even if he did, this line indicates that it wouldn't change how Varric would have approached him. Solas became 'human' by taking on a body, just like Cole did.

Solas admits to Cole: "I am not a spirit, and sometimes it is hard to remember such simple truths." but when you consider that spirits don't die in the traditional sense, this truth doesn't really sound all that simple.

Solas's biggest fear, dying alone, is something inconceivable to a spirit, and it's such a human fear.

Varric (or Rook's memory of Varric) tells Rook: "Because you always chose the hard truth over the easy lie. Solas, on the other hand..." which further drives the point home: Solas exists in a state of utter denial about how human he is.

Solas being in favour of Cole remaining a spirit reflects Solas's own regret of taking on a body, and fear for Cole's life in what's to come if Solas succeeds, it would also harm the world as spirits of compassion are already so few and far between. Yet Solas being in favour of Cole remaining a spirit may serve an additional purpose: one of denial.

If Cole can exist in this world and remain a spirit, then Solas can conveniently forget that he no longer is one himself. If Cole becomes more human, longer lifespan aside, how different is Solas really from others who are 'human', too?

When Rook asks Solas to atone for what he's done, Rook effectively asks him to also come to terms with his grief and take the time to heal from being emotionally hurt so finally he can learn from what he has endured.

Just like that you're extending the same opportunity to Solas, that Varric did to Cole: the opportunity to become more human.

I love Varric's view that yeah sure, Solas has all these extremely complicated reasons for doing what he did, but at the end of the day he can't bear to face the pain he is in. He's just as human as the rest of us, which means he can learn from his mistakes and that maybe some day, he can heal.

There's plenty to say about how Veilguard handled Solas's motivations for tearing down the Veil, how he's characterised, etc. but personally I'm a sucker for this kind of framing of his story.

It really resonates with me. Sometimes, you don't need complicated solutions to your problems. You don't need to deep dive into why you are the way you are, or why you do the things you do. You just need to share why you're hurting so you can get a hug, a comforting hand on your shoulder, and some much needed words of reassurance.

Every Solas deserves a Varric in their life.

[erikahammerschmidt]

This is a very hard thing for many people to grasp, because... it challenges so many of the things that, for them, make life worth living.

the idea that there's an inherent justice to the world, and those who consistently do right will eventually see some good results from it, something that makes it all worthwhile.

the idea that you are safe.

the idea that you deserve whatever good things you have. (and that you don't have any reason to give up your own happiness to feel bad for others who lack those things, or give up your own good fortune to share with them)

and that lacking good things happens for comprehensible reasons-- so if you do the right things, you don't have to fear ever being one of those who lack. (And that you actually have any real way of knowing what "the right things" even are.)

the idea that we, individually, have any power over what happens to us.

the idea that free will is actually meaningful, and that the few meager things about our lives that we can (somewhat) control are actually capable of making a difference against the vast enormity of what we can't control.

...

...the fact that none of these comforting thoughts are true, feels awfully bleak and hopeless.

To the point that, if your own life hasn't yet forced you to give up those beliefs, you might find yourself unable to let go of them, because the alternative is too terrifying

As someone with mental and (increasingly) physical disabilities, my own mental health fights a battle against this hopelessness every. single. day

...

and, like.

I believe there IS actually some hope for something better...

if enough people can come to the agreement that a lot of people's good fortune (including good health) IS really just luck... and that the bad things in their lives (often even including bad behaviors!) can get at least somewhat better with help from others...

if enough of us could someday let go of the concept of deserving and not-deserving... this focus on blame and punitive justice, and this obsession on bad circumstances being deserved punishments

and if enough of the more fortunate people could contribute from their own lucky circumstances to help others... with no thought of who deserves what, and no other goal except making a world that will, in general, overall, be better for pretty much everyone

then...

Well, I'm not saying this will make everyone's life live up to the current unrealistic ideal of perfect health.

(It won't! there will still be people with severe problems, both mental and physical! And if people's current expectations don't change a whole lot to go along with it, there are gonna be a lot of people who think this whole societal improvement was a failure, even if it does succeed!)

But. if humanity can find itself capable of this big, big shift in worldview? then... there is hope. For something better. Not great, not perfect, but... better.

And it's hard enough to believe this is possible sometimes. Because, again-- even if I do all of what I think are the "right" things, in order to work toward this better world? That doesn't necessarily mean anything will come from all my hard work.

Like everything else, it'll depend on luck. And on the combined actions of lots and lots and LOTS of other people, none of whom I can control at all.

But it's all the hope we've got, so... I still try.

Some rando: You should think about stopping your prescription

Me: My pills make me not want to die tho

They: You shouldn’t want to die, that’s not normal

Me: Yeah that’s why I’m taking my pills

[moeblob]

I think it's worth noting that NONE of the humans have names yet but the white cat? Her name is Jezebel. And her human man loves her very, very much. And always refers to her formally by name. Whether simply Jezebel, Lady Jezebel, Master Jezebel, etc. But his wife calls her Jez sometimes and he's like "I can't believe the most important women in my life are so close. I'm so lucky, honey. I love you both"

Also their eyes all have a sort of uniqueness to them! Even the top guy who has regular looking pupils has a lore behind it.

[handweavers]

do you have any advice for adjusting your voice for deaf people? my grandpa’s hearing has gotten very bad and ik he has a hard time hearing me 😔

all of this advice comes from communicating with my poppy who was 95% deaf for most of my life (and refused to learn asl) so while i can attest that this worked with him, your mileage may vary. he also had dementia so i believe some of these tips helped him in understanding me within that context too. try to approach your encounters with him as trying to ease the gap of communication and make it easier for him to grasp what you are trying to share with him. understand where his mind is at and where he may be coming from culturally and in a 'time' sense - ex. poppy grew up in ireland in the 30s and 40s and those memories were most fresh in his mind near the end of his life, so i would use that information to aid in my communication. anything to close that gap between you can be helpful in having you not only be heard but be understood

he was 100% deaf in one ear and 90% deaf in the other, so i got used to speaking in his good ear. if your grandfather has an ear that hears better than the other, try to always position yourself on that side of him whether walking or sitting together. keep an awareness of his 'good' ear and aim your speech toward it at all times, including if you are approaching from behind. approach him from that side, speak to him on that side, aim your mouth toward that side, etc.

speaking with a lower pitch can really help, as in my experience they have an easier time hearing and understanding lower voices. for example, poppy could hear my voice and my uncle's voices better than he could hear my mom's, which is higher. so if you are able to modulate your voice to speak in a lower pitch, that alone can really make a difference. speak with your throat or chest voice rather than your head voice to try to sound lower, but don't force yourself to sound comically low

speaking clearly and enunciating your words is also very important, and if they have an accent or speak with a unique dialect mimicking that can also help their brain process what you are trying to say. i would try to pronounce words in poppy's donegal irish accent with a certain lilt and that helped. using the words and phrasing he would use in a situation also helped. speaking slooooowly can actually make it harder for them to understand you because you are saying the words in a way they are not expecting you to, you are pronouncing them in an unusual manner, so focus on speaking clearly and evenly

sometimes spelling out a word would be necessary, especially if it's a word that sounds similar to others and can't be easily discerned from context. spelling it out with your fingers in the air so there's a visual cue can help. generally having visual cues can really help, so much of communication is context dependent so having a visual representation of what you're talking about can help them bridge the gap of what they're hearing and what you're trying to say in their minds. sometimes we'd write the word if it was a real struggle, but his eyesight was still excellent so i don't know how well that would help if your grandpa also has visual impairments

[idkyetxoxo]

Daeron Targaryen - Fire and Frost

Summary - She finds herself wed to a Targaryen—her worst fear manifesting. As she navigates court politics and her heart, she discovers that the man she expected to dread may hold the key to an unexpected future. Can love emerge from the ashes of fire and ice?

Pairing - Daeron Targaryen x Stark reader

Warnings - None

Word count - 2212

Masterlist for Daeron • House of the Dragon General Masterlist

"What end could I possibly have marrying a Targaryen?" I asked, my voice trembling as I nervously twisted the ring on my finger. 

Cregan, my brother, sat across from me, his face carefully composed, but I could see the tension in his shoulders, the way he held himself like a man bracing for a storm.

"It is my duty to secure a favourable match for you, and I have done so," Cregan replied calmly, his hand reaching out to cover mine, halting my anxious movements. 

I let out a frustrated sigh, feeling the walls of inevitability closing in around me.

"But how is this match favourable, Cregan?" I questioned, my voice softer now but laced with uncertainty.

Rumours about the Targaryen brothers—their reckless ways, their unchecked power—swirled through my mind. Stories of fire and blood, of madness and ambition.

I couldn't imagine myself in their world, so far from home, bound to a man I barely knew, a man whose name alone filled me with dread.

"I know what people say about them. Daeron is no different, is he? Do you expect me to be blind to it?"

Cregan exhaled slowly, his grip on my hand tightening ever so slightly as if bracing himself.

"I understand your concerns," he admitted, "but Father insisted on this match before his death. It was his wish—his command. I cannot undo what he has set in motion."

"But I belong in the North. I am Northern to my core!" I exclaimed, trying to keep my voice from breaking. "I do not wish to be so far from you, from our home. What life could I possibly build in the South?"

His brow furrowed, and for the first time, a flicker of emotion passed through his otherwise stoic expression. "I would not send you away if it were my choice alone. But this was Father's will, and as Lord of Winterfell, I am bound to honour his final wishes."

Tears welled in my eyes, and despite my efforts to remain composed, they spilt over, warm and heavy, rolling down my cheeks. 

I looked at my brother, pleading silently for some other way, some escape from this fate. "Cregan, you are Warden of the North, the Lord of Winterfell. Surely you have the power to change this."

He shook his head, his voice heavy with regret. "I am bound by duty—just as you are now." His own eyes softened, pained by the sight of my tears. 

"Please, do not cry," he whispered, closing his eyes briefly as if the very sight of my pain cut deeper than any blade. "If there were any other way, I would take it. But Father's will is clear."

My chest tightened, a wave of emotion crashing over me as the reality sank in. There was no escape. No way to avoid the marriage or the fate that awaited me. 

Slowly, the fire in my voice began to fade.

"I never asked for this," I murmured, my gaze dropping to the ring still twisting between my fingers. "I never wanted any of this."

"I know," Cregan said softly. "But sometimes we don't get to choose our paths. You will find your place, even in the South. Daeron is not like the others. He will be kind to you. I would not send you to a man I did not trust."

I looked up at him, my tears now silent, and saw the sorrow in his eyes. He truly believed there was no other choice, and perhaps there wasn't. 

The fight within me gave way to something quieter—acceptance.

"What if I can't do it?" I whispered, my voice so soft it barely reached him. "What if I fail?"

"You won't," he said, squeezing my hand gently. "You are stronger than you think. You are of the North, after all."

I swallowed the lump in my throat, nodding slowly. It felt like surrender, but deep down, I knew it was the only option left.

"I will marry him, then," I said finally, the words bitter on my tongue but resolute. "I will marry Daeron."

Cregan's shoulders relaxed ever so slightly, though the sadness in his eyes remained. "Thank you," he murmured as if my acceptance had lifted a weight from both of us, though it hardly felt like a victory.

I had lost the battle, but in the end, there was no winning—only duty.

─── ✦⋅♡⋅✦ ───

The wedding was a grand affair, as expected, held in King's Landing—the seat of power and my new home. 

The Targaryen banners flew high above the Keep, casting shadows over the endless stream of nobles and courtiers gathered from across the realm. 

Laughter and music filled the air, but to me, it all felt distant, like a dream from which I could not wake.

I had done everything in my power to avoid speaking to Daeron. Despite his many attempts to start a conversation, I evaded him, retreating into myself. 

The mere thought of him, my husband now, sent a wave of unease through me. 

I did not wish to suffer any more than was necessary, and engaging with him felt like it would only deepen the weight already pressing on my chest.

I sat at the head table, twisting the ring on my finger—a nervous habit I couldn't seem to shake—as Daeron conversed with a nearby lord. His voice was calm, relaxed, a contrast to the tension building within me.

 My eyes scanned the hall, the sea of faces all turned in celebration. Nobles from every corner of the Seven Kingdoms had come to witness the last Targaryen prince's wedding, to celebrate a union that I felt little joy in.

And then, I felt it—his eyes on me. I stiffened slightly, turning my head just enough to meet Daeron's gaze. There was no malice in it, no cruelty, but the intensity made me look away quickly, heat rising in my cheeks. 

I focused back on the table in front of me, trying to steady my breathing, when I felt him lean closer, his breath warm against my ear.

"Shall we leave?" he whispered, his voice low and gentle.

I blinked in confusion, my eyes finally meeting his as I processed the question. "Leave?" I echoed. "Do we not wait for the bedding ceremony?"

The words felt strange on my tongue, and my voice came out quieter than I intended. I knew what was expected—what came next. My stomach knotted in anticipation. I couldn't hide the nervous look that flashed across my face.

Daeron, however, only shrugged, his demeanour surprisingly calm. "Would you like to wait for the ceremony?" he asked a hint of amusement in his tone.

"No!" The word slipped out far too quickly, and I winced at the sharpness of my response. Embarrassment flooded me, and I hastily lowered my gaze. 

"I mean... no," I repeated more softly, "if we can avoid it, I would very much prefer that."

A quiet laugh rumbled from Daeron, but it wasn't cruel—it was almost... understanding. "Then we shall sneak away," he said, rising to his feet. 

He extended his hand towards me, and for a moment, I hesitated. But finally, I placed my hand in his, the weight of the decision heavy but oddly relieving.

True to his word, Daeron navigated us through the crowd, weaving between drunk lords and distracted courtiers. No one seemed to notice the bride and groom slipping away from their own wedding feast. 

The din of laughter and celebration grew distant as we wound our way through the unfamiliar halls of the Keep.

Finally, we reached a large set of wooden doors. Daeron pushed them open, revealing his chambers. He led me inside, the heavy doors closing with a soft thud behind us. 

The room was dimly lit by candles, casting flickering shadows across the stone walls. It felt intimate, far too intimate for the quiet awkwardness between us.

I let go of his hand quickly, clasping my fingers together in front of me as I nervously glanced around the room, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. 

I could feel Daeron watching me, his gaze curious but not unkind. 

He took a step toward me, and instinctively, I took one back.

He stopped immediately, his brow furrowing in concern. "Are you alright?" he asked, his voice gentle.

I nodded, though I wasn't sure I believed myself. My throat felt tight, and the words I wanted to say stuck somewhere between fear and uncertainty. I didn't trust myself to speak.

"You do not speak much," Daeron observed after a moment of silence. His tone wasn't accusatory, merely an observation. He tilted his head slightly, studying me. "Or perhaps... you do not speak much to me."

His words caught me off guard, and my eyes widened just a little in surprise. I shook my head quickly. 

"No, my prince, it's not that. I... I'm simply..." I hesitated, unsure how to finish. "I'm a little nervous."

"Nervous?" he repeated, his brow raising slightly. "Of what?"

I opened my mouth to answer, but no words came. What was I nervous of? Him? The unfamiliarity of this life? The expectations placed upon me now? All of it, perhaps. 

My throat tightened, and I found myself unable to form a coherent response. My hands fidgeted with the fabric of my dress as the silence stretched between us.

Daeron took a step back, giving me space, and his face softened. 

"You don't have to be nervous, you know," he said quietly. "I won't do anything to hurt you. We can take this slowly. Whatever pace you need."

His words caught me off guard. I had braced myself for cold indifference, for the kind of entitlement I had feared the Targaryen brothers carried with them. But instead, there was kindness in his voice, an unexpected patience that I had not anticipated. 

Some of the tightness in my chest loosened, though doubt still lingered at the edges of my mind.

I glanced up at him, uncertain. Could I trust this? Trust him? There was no trace of malice in his eyes, no hidden agenda. He simply stood there, waiting, giving me the space I hadn't expected to be offered.

"I... I don't know what to do," I confessed, my voice barely audible. 

The vulnerability of the admission left me feeling exposed like I was handing him a fragile part of myself I hadn't even realized I was holding.

Daeron's expression softened further, his understanding surprising me. "You don't need to do anything," he said, his voice a quiet reassurance. "Not tonight. Let's just... get to know each other when you're ready."

We stood there for a long moment, just looking at each other. I didn't feel the need to speak, nor did he. It was as though the silence was saying more than words could at that moment. 

Something shifted between us, a new understanding beginning to take root.

As I held his gaze, something stirred within me—something I hadn't expected. The tension that had once filled the room was gone, replaced by an unfamiliar but undeniable pull. 

I took a small step forward, closing the distance between us. My heart pounded in my chest, but not from fear this time.

Daeron's eyes flickered in surprise as I moved closer, but he didn't step back, didn't move away. 

Instead, he simply watched me, waiting, as though he had sensed the change in me before I had even fully realized it myself.

I hesitated for only a moment longer before something inside me gave way. Slowly, almost cautiously, I closed the remaining distance between us. 

My hand reached out, tentative at first, and then I gently pressed my palm against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath beneath my fingers.

For a heartbeat, everything was still.

And then, I leaned in and kissed him.

It was soft, tentative—just a brush of my lips against his. I wasn't even sure why I had done it, only that it felt... right in that moment. I pulled back slightly, my breath caught in my throat, my heart racing.

Daeron didn't move immediately, didn't rush to take control of the moment. He simply blinked in surprise, as if he hadn't expected me to make the first move. And then, slowly, a smile tugged at the corners of his lips, warm and genuine.

He raised his hand, gently cupping my cheek, his touch feather-light. 

"I didn't expect that," he said softly, his voice carrying a hint of amusement but no arrogance, no presumptuousness. "But I'm glad you did."

I swallowed, the tension I had once felt now replaced by something softer, something I hadn't anticipated. 

"I think..." I began, my voice barely above a whisper, "I think I was wrong about you."

His thumb traced a soft line along my jaw, his eyes searching mine. "Perhaps," he said, his voice a low murmur, "but we have time to figure each other out, don't we?"

I nodded, feeling a sense of calm settle over me for the first time since this entire ordeal began. 

For the first time, I didn't feel like I was trapped, didn't feel like I was simply fulfilling a duty. Maybe this marriage wouldn't be what I feared. Maybe it could be something more.

And in that moment, with Daeron's hand still resting gently on my cheek and his eyes filled with that same patient kindness, I allowed myself to believe that this, perhaps, was a beginning rather than an end.

A/n - Ik I have severely lacked in the Daeron content (over two months for his last oneshot) but hopefully this is forgiveness enough, I am very slowly tryna balance this and all the craziness of life ill get there eventually😭😭

Daeron tag list - @alyssa-dayne

[ghostsandfools]

Okay I’m about to write a LOT of tags-

Also sorry if it sounds like I’m arguing, I don’t wanna argue with you cause you’re my friend- we are having a ✨civil debate✨

That laes episode… WOWZA

It’s becoming increasingly clear how much of an effect the astrals’ indoctrination has had on Lunar. He can’t think of any good reason to get his powers back, but he wants to do it anyways. He hates having powers, he hates how stressful it is, he hates the idea of leaving his family behind, but he wants to do it anyways. He feels like he has to, like it’s his purpose. Even if he isn’t happy, he doesn’t ‘deserve’ happiness.

Why does he have to leave his family behind? Genuinely, why? Because he’ll be too ‘busy’ to see them? Because they could ‘interfere’ with his work? No!

The reason why Lunar can’t see his family if he gets his powers back is because he will be fully indoctrinated into the astral cult. People who join cults often cut their families off or rarely interact with them. Cult leaders don’t want their disciples getting too friendly with outsiders, because they may realize that they’re being manipulated. The astrals don’t want Lunar interacting with his family because they’re worried he’ll get too distracted from their main goal.

The astrals aren’t evil. They may not even be purposefully indoctrinating people. I don’t think Gemini’s goal is to manipulate Lunar or isolate him from his family. Their goal is to protect the universe from dark star power. But that doesn’t change the fact that they have had an extreme negative effect not just on Lunar, but his family as well.

They’ve made him fear for his life, his livelihood. It feels like everything he has could be lost in an instant.

Without his powers, he feels useless. He dedicated himself to the astrals, training himself every day just to become one of them. The idea of losing his powers is so stressful to him that he’d consider leaving his family behind just to pursue becoming an astral.

He asks “Why do I have to make this choice?” And it’s a good question!

Why was he EVER put into this position? The astrals could’ve taken his powers from him at any time. Why didn’t they? Why did Gemini say he was at risk of DEATH after he killed Eclipse? Why didn’t they put him through this torment, why did they threaten him like that? Because they want him to stay loyal to their cause.

[jcollinswrites]

So, I got the (straightforward) spirit. I got the beautiful life (or I'm pretty sure that's what it is). The pretty standard pharaoh official name (altho I can't exactly make out the middle part). The child of the moon (👀?). Quenna tho ? My brain is drying out lmao. Would you share what they all mean ? (I see face mouth. okay ? and then books at the end ? and the middle part is just a big ? i guess it looks like the reverse of sky according to some random thing i found. none of this makes sense 😂)

I imagine you are talking about the inscriptions on the wall on their illustrations? In that case, here are some more clues:

You got the one with the spirit right

Tabiry's inscription I'm not sure if it's correct, but the second part has to do with her profession

Narmer's is his Prenomen (his throne name)

Ahmose's is just their name, because Ahmose means 'child of the moon'

Qenna's is a title that is sometimes used to refer to Amun and is the official title of Qenna's job. I believe it is mentioned in some places in the text 🤔 The other thing under it is a secret for now ;)

I think with the exception of Tabiry, all of them are correct because I copied them from actual historical inscriptions. I put Tabiry's text together on my own with the help of a book that teaches basic hieroglyphs, so maybe it's not correct but it was really fun to work on them regardless :D

I don't have that book with me atm, but when I get to it, I can make a post about how to read those inscriptions ✨

[pbaz7]

was going through an insane crash out yesterday and the tenn game was just the cherry on top. really needing this rn lmao.

“Go back to sleep, pretty.”

tearing up alr

“You’re lucky you look like your mama, you know that?”

if their kid does end up looking like azzi that little girl is about to be spoiled beyond anyone's wildest dreams

“Yeah, yeah, I know. You’re more important,” she sighed, giving her tiny hand a gentle squeeze.

🥹

“She thinks I don’t know it, but she’s been running my life since I was fifteen.”

azzi had her on a leash for nearly a decade atp

“I swear, she could tell me to do anything, and I’d do it. No hesitation,” Paige admitted, a small smile tugging at her lips. “And now you? I just know you’re gonna be the same way. I’m gonna be in trouble with you two. Probably broke.”

at least she's aware!

“And you? You’re the best thing we ever did…”

ever better than getting that 2025 natty?! (let me stay delusional)

Azzi’s heart melted.

how could it not

Azzi watched in disbelief before shaking her head. “Oh, this is ridiculous. She’s already got a favorite.”

p tends to have that effect on people unfortunately (fortunately)

Aliana was sound asleep, bundled up in her little UConn onesie, oblivious to the fact that she was about to make her first official appearance in Gampel Pavilion.

uconn fan since BIRTH quite literally

Azzi sighed, shaking her head as a small smile pulled at her lips. “I still can’t believe we call him Grandpa now.”

oh em gee this is adorable. geno pls get ur act together and stop making game losing calls and maybe this can happen irl!

“Oh. My. God,” she gasped, eyes wide with shock and excitement.

still extra and dramatic all these years later

her fingers already moving to undo the straps.

can't even call you out for the double entendre bc this is genuinely so adorable

Ice shook her head, laughing. “Oh, you already on that parent logic, huh?”

girl math parent logic

just Paige and Azzi, tucked into each other like they were back in college, stealing moments in between practices.

just thinking about them being so cute and annoying during practice and lit tearing up. I can't have it be over guys😭

Paige tightened her hold, letting out a small hum of satisfaction. “I missed this,” she admitted. “Just… holding you.”

longing for simpler times right with p and az... oh how I miss Hopkins p

“You’re my wife. Meaning you’re irreplaceable, Bueckers.”

literally can't imagine either of them with anyone else

When they pulled away, she whispered, “God, you’re beautiful.”

azzi almost looks like ai she's so perfect. like sometimes I wonder if she's real

Paige smirked. “I do know. But please tell me more.”

she's just the same

“Yeah, but when she doesn’t want to sleep unless she’s on your chest?

this trait seems to be hereditary then...

Paige pulled out the tiny noise-canceling headphones and carefully adjusted them over Aliana’s little head.

just thinking of kate martin holding her nephew with those stupid little headphones over his head

The moment people noticed the baby in Paige’s arms, the volume somehow got even louder.

cuz they know that little girl bout to be playing for them in like 17 years

After a moment, Paige sighed and carefully, almost reluctantly, shifted Aliana into Azzi’s arms.

this is so dad watching the Super Bowl core

Paige smirked. “Guess she likes messing with you already. Knew she’d be just like me.”

azzi got TWO of these hoes to deal with. someone give her an award for patience

“I get it, baby. Auntie Nika is a lot sometimes.”

would NEVER in a million years trust nika with my kid... but love that for p and az!

but they’re practically vibrating waiting to meet you.”

me core I fear

“She was always putting me first. It didn’t matter how much pressure she was under, how exhausted she was from practice—she always made sure I felt loved.”

azzi stop talking before I start sobbing

You and me? We’re the luckiest girls in the world.”

and a tear rolled down my cheek🥹

Paige leans in and presses a quick but lingering kiss to her lips, not caring in the slightest about the people around them.

just one of these is all I want! it doesn't even have to be on the lips guys just a cute little kiss on the forehead at the draft or smth

“I mean, can you blame me? I bagged the most beautiful woman in the world and we have the cutest baby ever. I think I’ve earned the right to be a little cocky.”

I mean she does have a point...

Paige and Azzi both chuckle at the comment. Paige leans in slightly toward Azzi, murmuring, “They’re already trying to recruit her.”

knowing who her parents are you can't blame em

“Move over, CD. Let me see my granddaughter.”

gramps is so sassy lmao

a familiar but unexpected face appeared beside them.

wait im scared

“You and Azzi still going strong, huh?”

who is this ugly hoe..

As soon as the woman was out of earshot, Azzi turned to Paige. “I thought we were done with your groupies at this stage.”

nah that's just what comes with marrying Paige bueckers

Now, Azzi was straddling Paige’s lap, her arms draped lazily over Paige’s shoulders as they kissed.

OH?!

“Doesn’t change anything,” she said, her voice low but firm. “You know I can’t do it.”

yeah im on team Paige here I would efintley not have sex in front of my kid lmao... no matter how young they are

Azzi let out a laugh just before Paige kissed her again, pulling her under the warmth of the water, their laughter fading into something softer.

can't even be mad I was robbed cuz this is adorable

ugh I love pazzi as parents so much

truly still in shambles about yesterday

dare I say I knew we were gonna lose from before the game even started...

anyway author, as usual, I love you

-🍉

tearing up alr

everybody said this 😭

ever better than getting that 2025 natty?! (let me stay delusional)

exactly you see the vision..yup..yup

oh em gee this is adorable. geno pls get ur act together and stop making game losing calls and maybe this can happen irl!

please luigi i need you to get it together

azzi almost looks like ai she's so perfect. like sometimes I wonder if she's real

this is so real

would NEVER in a million years trust nika with my kid... but love that for p and az!

i wouldn’t trust any of them with a child

and a tear rolled down my cheek

sorry 😬

just one of these is all I want! it doesn't even have to be on the lips guys just a cute little kiss on the forehead at the draft or smth

man gimme something please

also i’m letting that game drift from my memory permanently ✨

[writing-whump]

Feeling cold today

Because I neglected the Hector x Olive pair something terrible. Hector with a cold and scratchy throat and Olive caretaker. Some emotional talk and emeto included.

"You should take vitamin c, vitamin d, omega three, this syrup for immunity-"

Hector rolled his eyes, although he couldn't deny that he found Olive robbing out the pharmacy for him super adorable. "Oli, I'm not dying."

"Oh, you mister, shut up." She flashed him an angry glare, dark gray eyes wide and burning like coals. "Why can't you take one thing regularly? When I say three times a day, you only take one-"

Hector sighed. He was perched on the sofa in her living room while she packed out all possible bottles and boxes on the small table.

Olive's apartment was a small thing, just a bedroom with a couch in one and something resembling a an electric stove and kettle in the entry hall. And a mini bathroom.

Hector always felt bad when they were here, because he was basically forcing her into this tiny place, when he had a huge apartment and a nice new building...but this was a lot less complicated than smuggling Olive over around the pack.

Christ, Hector couldn't even think about Olive and the pack in one sentence.

But it was still too soon, wasn't it? They were dating—or seeing each other or whatever the right word was—since the summer solar system exhibition. It was soon gonna be 6 months. Time sure flied.

Not that Hector was counting. He wasn't promising himself anything, cause how would he know how it worked? And it didn't make sense to stress about the future he didn't know if they would need.

He still woke up sometimes not believing how lucky he was to know her.

"I also got you magnesium and Chatgpt said-"

Now Hector had to laugh. "You are Chatgpt-ing my cold symptoms?"

Olive's round face grew cherry red under her black bangs. "How would I know what works best for wolves?"

Hector rolled his eyes again. Since she found out, she tried to study and be so considerate of him, but truly, he loved how ignorant and innocent she was.

The blond was quite proud that usually none of his shadow mannerism or wolf life bled over into his time with Olive. Yes, there was the shadow possessiveness, the obsession with her smell, the territoriality that felt seated only when he could find his scent on her things...

But otherwise he could be very human around her and her pixie artist interests he had no idea about. Going to her was always like a doorway to another world.

"Alright, that's enough." Hector didn't need to reach for to grab her around the waist and pull her into his lap, then flopped over the armrest to snuggle with her on the couch.

It creaked under the movement, reminding him to get her a new one. Maybe that's how he could start, by renovating her place when he couldn't share his.

Olive squeeled, but then melted against his chest, her plum scent filling his nostrils as she pouted at him. "I'm just so sorry I got you my cold-"

"Hey, it works for me. At least I don't have to worry about passing it over." He kissed her on the nose, shifting so she could lie on top of his chest. His throat was scratchy, but he thankfully didn't have sniffles, so he didn't feel too stupid. He could swallow whatever shit was pooling at the bottom of his throat just fine.

She buried her face against the inside of his shoulder. "I'm so sorry. I really didn't know wolves could catch it so easily."

Hector huffed, wrapping his arms around her small frame, giving little pats on her back where his palm landed. The reminder wolves were more vulnerable to viruses irritated him more than any cold.

"Do you want some soup? I bet that will feel good."

Hector almost growled. "No. This is perfect as it is. No moving."

"O-okay," Olive said quietly, squirming in his hold so she could perch his chin on his chest and stare at his throat.

Her breath ticked againt his neck, causing a shiver of excitement and thrill. She was so clueless about these positions that gave all kinds of firework signals to his brain.

She loosed up a hand from his grip to trail a finger around his cheekbones. "My art profession must be going insane. You are the only thing I keep drawing in my sketchbook."

Hector gave her a smug smile, more than pleased. "Can't complain about that. I'm the most handsome model you could find."

"And so modest," she said teasingly. "As much as I love this view, I should get some work done. Social media posts need to be scheduled for work and I have a hand in at the end of the month."

"It's not even Valentine yet, why are you worrying about something so far away?"

"Because when I'm finished I'll be free for the semester holidays..." a new blush crept up her cheeks. "And I wanna be drawing some new places and..." and spend more time with you going there.

Hector grinned again, tipping his head back. He might have been clueless about art as much as Olive was about wolves, but he could take her to trips and places she could never afford alone.

Hector had always been rather territorial. As a pack with set places that were theirs, he didn't feel the need to travel, always locked to a specific location.

But there was nothing more beautiful than Olive's wonder in a cathedral or getting her to a nice view or her sketching a cityscape while on the steps with cheap coffee and fingers black from coal.

And since she was there with him, it never felt like he was not anchored. Her presence had a gravity to it, and to his surprise, he quite enjoyed being pulled in by her field. Like the moon around his sun.

Hector leaned forward to whisper into her ear. "Only if I can stay and watch you draw."

Her cheeks were crimson now. To hide her fluster, she kissed him, making him lean back again before slipping out of his grip.

They ended up in their usual position, his head on her lap, her elbows on his chest and the armrest as she worked on her laptop and took breaks to add something into her tablet or her sketches.

Though Hector was quickly finding out that lying down was not ideal. His throat was overflowing with something gooey.

The blond tried very hard not to cough and just clear his throat five times in a row, but it wasn't helping the drowning sensation. He curled up a little more against her tights, wishing he could fall asleep and forget about it.

His chest hitched with an aborted cough, almost involuntarily. He wheezed out a breath, a weird choking sensation-

"Get up." Olive threw her laptop to the side unceremoniously, grabbing his arm. "Come on, handsome. You can't be lying down like this, it makes it worse."

He sat up reluctantly, finally letting himself cough. It was all wet and didn't feel good at all, making him fold forward with the force of it rattling his chest.

Olive rubbed his back along his spine, those smoky grey eyes going all wide with worry. "I'm so sorry, Hex. What about some cough syrup? So it calms it down?"

Hector finished his stupid cough, sagging back in exhaustion. "I'm fine." He hated he was taking it worse than her.

"I'll get you tea," Olive said, ignoring him. "The warmth will help melt that stuff in your throat, I promise."

He hated the cold space left behind her when she got up. God, he was getting so whiny without her. The wolf threw an arm over his face, enjoying the little moments when his chest wasn't wheezing and his throat didn't feel full...except that lasted about five breaths and he could feel slime filling back in.

Fucking great.

Maybe he should just go home and cough this crap up on his own? But then he would have to face Arnie and he would be out of Olive's reach...ahh there was no compromise to this.

Olive returned five minutes later with a steaming transparent mug of black tea with lemon. "Drink this while it's hot like this. It will feel warm you up."

Hector wasn't cold, but didn't mind her sliding against his side as he took the mug from her. "It's really okay. Just keep being this concerned and cute, I really can't complain."

She shoved his arm, but the little frown between her eyebrows almost covered by her bangs didn't disappear. He would have to work on that.

"By the way, now that there are holidays, do you not want to spend some time with your family?" Olive brushed a strand away from her face. She leaned a bit away to have a look at him, but also couldn't meet his eyes. "Not that I don't love having you over, I'm just not sure if it's fair to steal you away like this."

Hector shook his head, taking a sip from the tea. "It's alright. My older brother is busy with work and my younger has like 10 exams for law school." First semester was truly intense.

"But he had been studying all semester...and you are here way more this week than before."

Hector clicked his tongue, looking through the window. He was surprised she picked up on that. Were they really getting to know each other to such a degree now?

"Arnie is...getting his stubborn ideas again. I think a little break from each other will do us some good."

Her eyebrows jumped up, as surprised he actually said something as he was. "Stubborn about what?"

Hector took a bit bigger sip of the tea, the warmth pleasantly spreading through his throat despite how much tighter it felt. "He got into his head he wants to move out and try a a hu-" he cut himself off with a gulp,"a dorm."

Olive watched him with a quizzical expression. "And isn't that good? He wants to meet new people, spend more time with his classmates, be more independent...as his main caretaker, it's good news, right? Spreading his wings and all."

"He is not even 20 and not a bird," Hector grumbled. A familiar spike of anxiety went through his lungs.

"I moved out when I was 18," Olive said, crossing her arms over her chest. "Isn't it about the right age? To experience student life and all."

Hector struggled to swallow over the lump in his throat, not sure if it was the phlegm or the anger.

How was he supposed to sum up years of concern, their pack name, his position and Arnie's special vulnerability as a perfect human hostage to two of the most influential powerful wolves in the city?

Olive might call him overbearing or Arnie spoiled. And he didn't want to sound like he came from a mafia movie or spook her with some danger talk. But this was a nuanced issue and...and it freaked him out something terrible that Arnie, of all people in the world, didn't see it the same way as Hector.

Cause that didn't make any sense. Cause Arnie was supposed to understand, on basic, instinctual level. He was supposed to know better, enough not to ask something like that in the first place.

A growl he tried to suppress shook inside him. He realised a bit late it wasn't a growl but a cough as he finished the rest of the tea in one big swing.

The cough and the liquid exploded in his throat. Now this was drowning. It reminded him of the moment in sea when he fell of his water scooter.

Hector coughed brutally, shaking and leaning over his legs and the sofa as he tried to get the offensive force and the liquid out. The cough turned into a gag and the tea, still burning hot, rushed out in a torrent all over his legs, the edge and the floor.

"Jesus christ, Hex!" Olive's voice was more concerned than angry though as she swatted his back with all her strength.

Hector gagged again, then kept gagging as little sprinkles of tea that got where they were not supposed to jumped out.

"Okay, you are okay. Shhh, shhh," Olive chanted, rubbing his arm up and down. "Can you breathe? Hex? Talk to me, hey-" She took his face into her hands, brushing away little stress tears that came out.

He nodded in her grip, then pushed his forehead against hers as he caught his breath. His chest was still heaving and the hot liquid on his pants was getting colder. "I'm sorry, drunk the tea too fast," he rasped.

"No, it's okay, I shouldn't have attacked you like that, I'm sorry. You are sick, I shouldn't-"

Hector scoffed. "I'm not that sick or upset, chill out. I'm sorry about the mess though."

She opened her eyes, their foreheads still touching, her whimpers huge from this close. "It's okay. You want a shower? Hot steam would probably help. I can wash these in the meantime."

Hector chuckled. He didn't exactly have a change of clothes here, but he didn't mind strolling around half-naked either.

He swabed his hand over his mouth, getting rid of the moisture and the rest of the conversation.

[secret-71845th-thing]

Ok so quick warning: this whole post is basically me rambling because I desperately need to get this out of my system, so I apologize in advance for the possible lack of coherency.

The topic I really want to talk about is Silco's funeral. I've been thinking about it since s2 ep2 came out and I've never really been able to come to a definitive opinion on it. It's honestly a very beautiful and atmospheric scene (without the constant flashbacks to past episodes of course because writers don't Actually know Why the flashbacks are sometimes shown on screen) and at first glance it seems like the perfect send-off for Silco...but it kept bugging me. It bugged me and bugged me and bugged me, kept me up at night, mocking me for the confusing feelings I had towards it. I've been walking in circles in my very personal torture chamber, all up until today. Like. I think it was literally 30 minutes ago (at the time of me writing this sentence). I finally figured out (at least) 5 reasons why I don't like this scene (and the very fact of its existence) the way I do, why it bothers me so much that I can't sleep.

CONTENT WARNING: DROWNING AND ITS OUTCOMES

Reason №1: the uncomfortable, the bad and the ugly.

So uhhhhhhh....I haven't seen literally anyone talking about it but uhhhhhh....you guys. Know what happens to dead bodies when they're placed in the water, right?...They um. They DO sink at first but then uh. Then they resurface and they uh. They look way Way WAY worse than before. Um. It doesn't happen with all of them, but the absolute majority does eventually resurface. We don't know if Silco's body will actually be able to resurface due to extreme pollution of the Pilt, but this is still a very possible outcome. And needles to say, this is a very cruel fate for any character really, and especially for Silco. He had to struggle with deformity and the consequences of Piltover's exploitation his whole life, so to have his body being even more deformed due to being in the water, and toxic water no less, is well..........Listen. I believe in the artistic thought devoid of real-life context as much as the next person, but Silco is Too realistically written for that. I can't do that to him. And I don't want anybody else to do it to him either. Call me overdramatic, but I can't possibly help it. I don't want him to go in a way he doesn't deserve to.

Reason №2: muh theeeeemes

The general consensus for Silco being buried in the water is that it suits his character thematically. He's always associated with water, his trauma is connected to water, the weapon his daughter made in his honor is literally water animal-shaped etc etc. He's the Posidon of Arcane itself, if you really think about it. And while I absolutely 100% see the point, I don't necessarily agree that this is enough of a reason to bury him in water. While Silco is undoubtedly a water-themed character first, he's also very closely connected to earth as well. Think about it. Where did Silco work in the past? In the mines. Where the dream of Zaun he dedicated his entire life to turning into reality was born? In the mines. Think about this as the 2/3 of the water circulation process. The rain goes into the ground and then into the underground waters, which are then become a part of rivers/seas/etc. Earth and water are interconnected in the most intimate sense, so burying Silco in the ground instead of the water wouldn't actually be a thematic "betrayal" as it may seem at first.

Reason №3: the trauma

Once again, sorry for the incoherency, I just don't know in which order I need to put these points out. Well, anyway. If we remember Silco's monolog at the start of s1 ep3 he describes his experience during the drowning as water talking to him, and his subconscious asking him "Have you had enough?" on the other side. Imo, this is a very important detail, because it shows us the starking contrast between the trauma and the burial. When Silco was being drowned, he could hear, think, and decide, while during the latter everything the water was whispering fell unto deaf ears. Silco couldn't hear what it was telling him, couldn't feel the way the water (or Jinx) was holding him, couldn't hear that important question, couldn't decide his fate. So, placing him into the water after his death kinda feels like taking away his agency and his choice away, as not even for a second in his life did he ever stop trying to get out of said water. Constantly reliving the same trauma over and over again, stabbing and cutting Vander (and Piltover) countless of times, desperately catching air with his mouth. And you know what is the most important part of this flashback? We never actually see Silco get to the shore, to safety. And while Silco claims that there's peace in water, this peace is very clearly illusory, as he never really came to associate water with it. Earth, on the other hand, does have peace in it, because this is where people finally get to rest and truly get away from the world and its problems. Also (at least from what we know) earth in Zaun isn't polluted, unlike the water. So, I think giving Silco actual peace would only be possible by burying him in the ground.

Reason №4: choose your fighter - Zaun vs Piltover (only losers choose Piltover btw)

There was also a point about how different death is in Zaun and Piltover. In Piltover you get an actual burial, a proper ceremony, a grave and a headstone at the cemetery etc etc, while in Zaun you just. Die. That's it. Your body can be taken away by anyone, dumped anywhere, no ceremonies whatsoever, no headstone no nothing. You'll be heck of a lucky guy if you get even a small mural somewhere (like the Firelights do), but otherwise you just. Dissappear. And your loved ones never actually get the chance to say a proper goodbye or mourn you. So, in that sense, in "canonical" s2 Silco died like a true Zaunite, his only trace in the world being his office in The Last Drop. But isn't it kinda an antithesis to everything he was fighting for tho? Silco wanted for Zaunites to have what Piltover has, proper burials and cemeteries included, and while he didn't get there by the slightest of margins, I think it would be a beautiful symbolism if Jinx and Sevika and possibly somebody else buried him "properly", showing us that they'll finish what he started. I took properly in quotation marks because it doesn't have to be a traditional funeral as we saw with Cassandra. Because Zaun is anything but traditional, and Silco loved this with all his heart, even if to a fault. So, Silco's death and funeral could've been a symbol of a new era for Zaun, and while it's was going to be different from anything before that, it's still a step forward towards Zaun's liberation and progress. A True progress.

Reason №5: STORY PROGRESSION AND CHARACTER DEVELOMPENT WHWOOOOOOOO!!! YEEEEEAAH BABYYYYYYYY THAT'S WHAT I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR THAT'S WHAT IT'S ALL ABOUT

Jinx and Sevika never communicated on how Jinx killed Silco and it's WRONG (loud buzzer along with vine boom effect). Silco was not only a boss to Sevika, but clearly a very important person in her life and someone she saw Zaun's future in. While their relationship did sour during the events of the show, it was only a fraction of what we saw of them and wasn't representative of their overall dynamic. In fact, I think that the said souring (?) could've been a good punch in the gut for her. Think about it. Literally earlier that very same day Sevika could've killed Silco herself, but now she has to face what his death ACTUALLY means to her. *Harry Osborn from spider-man 3 impression* So good. And the fact that he was killed by JINX of all people. Mmmmm oughhh!! Even better. But remember kids! Dead bodies decay really fast, so Sevika and Jinx have to put their differences aside to say goodbye to someone they both loved. Bonus points if because of this they become emotionally vulnerable in front of each other for the first time ever or in many Many years. "But secret-71845th-thing, this literally happened in s2 ep2!" ya. There should've been more.

Also on the topic of gut punches. I really loved how Jinx and Sevika talked to Silco's chair, showing how they couldn't really cope with his death and still desperately wanted him to turn around in it and ramble his usual boring speeches to them. But you know what could've been even better? If at the end they finally came to talk to his grave, accepting that he's no longer here, but caring about him and remembering him all the same.

Welp, it was sure a long post *audience laugh track playing on the background*. It took me *checks my non-existent wristwatch* about 3 hours to write. Talk about jobless behavior hahahaha.....(please hire me I want money/hj). There's a high chance that I have forgotten to say something, but I'll simply add it to a reblog because I don't actually bother rewriting this post besides spelling checks. Uuuuh yeah. *scratching my head* *crickets* Oh yeah, will gladly hear out your opinions on this topic, so be very welcome to reblog and comment 🫶🫶 If you'll be civil, of course. My house is only for cozy haters, toxic haters are strictly prohibited.

Edit: "#dw babygirl I'll steal your body and commit horrible atrocities to bring you back🫶🫶" <-- *points at myself* Am I?..... Singed??.......

[hollyhomburg]

Please don’t take this the wrong way but I just read your reply about your family I do not like them strangers who I clearly don’t know. I honestly wish they get beaten with a cactus. To sit there and not do anything , even when the bare minimum, is just being complicit in the abuse. Like if they don’t see it as a big deal, then the police won’t either. It is not fair to you and you shouldn’t have gone through that and your sister??? Well I’ll just keep those comments to myself but still, it’s wrong

it was kinda one of the things i tried to touch on in bily, and in general with the story of 'every betrayal is forgivable if you're not willing to lose the person' and i had to sit down with myself at a very young age and ask if i was ready not to have anyone, to not have a mom or a brother or sister. because either i can forgive them and have them in my life, or not forgive them and be alone. i'm not willing to be completely alone, even if it was wrong, even if i should be angry.

i think i'm reaching a point in my life where i might be able to deal with the last of my anger, because i do still resent them sometimes and it's complicated. i definitely am ready to cut my sister off entirely and i almost sent her a text the other day to ask her not to reach out to me and give me a wide berth until after her wedding.

like- maybe it would be different if they weren't so loving and understanding. like- they never shame me or shout at me. my brother for all his faults is constantly like "if you need to quit your job and move out to sf to work on your writing i'd support you until you got your book off the ground." And he's repeated it enough times that i believe him when he says that. He might not always be on my side but he does know how to show he loves me and support me.

and My mom quite literally let me rot on her couch for 2 years when i was the most depressed i've ever been and like...was not functioning. did she get me therapy and help? no. did she make it worse by ever badgering me to lose weight, get a car, get a job, or get a life? also no. she never said anything about it to me at all. She kept me fed and healthy and off the street and at least made sure i never felt pressured to push myself when i couldn't. We also didn't have the money for me to go to therapy at the time so, it wasn't really possible.

my mom and brother are at least understanding of my capabilities, they don't ask me 'why can't you do xyz like a normal person' because they understand at least on some level that the abuse made me non-functioning and that i'm not behind because i chose to be. They don't completely ignore it in that way. At least not the way that my older sister does because natalie does say that kind of thing to me in private.

It's a very complicated situation. but i get at peace with it more every day just because i'm tired of being angry and sad about it all the time. i'm tired of resenting everyone. i will not continue to allow disrespect but i'm also going to do my best not going to dwell on the violence that's already passed.

[binomech]

related to this latest episode of severance (S2E04 for readers in the future) and irving b.'s effective sabotage of helena eagan's infiltration into MDR and the continued struggle for liberation ending in a literal public execution:

i was talking to hexmage about blessed is the flame last saturday, which i had just finished my second read of.

it's a text about concentration camp resistance during the holocaust. from a nihilist perspective (with a lot of focus on the jouissance and the positive consequences of that sacrificial sabotage, the grimness and horror come from the actual existence of the camps rather than the punishment that came for the resisting inmates.) it's a devastating, powerful account of the price resistance paid within the nazi camp complexes and the german war machine during the early 40s.

i've been thinking a lot about the very real, very sickening risk of carrying out successful sabotage. one that means something. to mess with production and distribution of weapons. to teach things that might make people aware and willing to join this sabotage. to blow yourself up if you take a few key oppressors in the process.

in the climate of suffocating capitalist realism that we live in, liberalism will never be an effective political tactic. the interests of capital will continue to permeate every action and stop it at just the right spot before it meaningfully changes anything. i'm guilty of believing some of my actions are more structurally meaningful than they actually are, and it hits me sometimes how this praise of violence, this acceptance of death as a price worth paying, is so discouraged even by most self-described leftists.

and i understand, i get that the cognitive dissonance of saying that death and/or permanent injury and/or disabling trauma (physical or mental) is a necessary for it to not happen again. i think to myself, i can do more things if i'm alive, the dead can't really do much for the living. and then i think about the fact that there's no way to effectively resist the capitalist boot at your neck that isn't life-risking.

you will lose your job. they will break your union's resistance box and you will go hungry. they will cut you off from all your friends. they will try to make you regret your actions and your thoughts. they will try to make an example out of you. if you can't be subsumed into a capitalist agenda, you need to be snuffed out.

so, you know, blessed is the flame because it keeps on burning, even if it has to destroy the match to keep going. blessed is the flame that takes oxygen and gives light.

[lukas-wrld]

This was another reminder to actually put myself together and get my story written, so thank you @mjparkerwriting for tagging me!

I shall be using my yet to be properly introduced, or planned, or actually started story idea, How to be the Perfect Daughter (working title)! The idea is that in the process of answering these questions, I'll figure out more of the story, so without much further ado-

What is the main lesson of your story? Why did you choose it?

I'm still not sure how to put it into precise words, but I'm playing around with the idea of "the ability to define yourself/choose your future/live your life gets increasingly difficult if the context you're in doesn't really let you do that" or something like that. Currently, anyway. Definitely liable to change at some point, lol

I didn't necessarily choose it, but rather, it's kind of the culmination of a couple of years of mulling over this story idea and changing as a person and the idea becoming more than just a way for me to vent out my frustrations and anger

What did you use as inspiration for your worldbuilding?

The real world. My own life experiences, as sparse as they are, lol. Childhood rage from lockdown

What is your MC trying to achieve, and what are you, the writer, trying to achieve with them? Do you want to inspire others, teach forgiveness, or help the reader grow as a person?

Daughter wants to be seen as more than just that, more than just a second mother or a soon to be wife despite her entire culture kind of telling her otherwise.

With her, I'm trying to achieve some kind of catharsis. Maybe show people that the proverbial glass ceiling is sometimes there, and sometimes sucks, but it doesn't necessarily mean that you can't make the most of what is beneath that ceiling

How many chapters is your story going to have?

I'm not sure. If you couldn't already tell, I'm barely even on the planning stage XD

Is it fanfiction or original content? Where do you plan to post it?

Original content! I hope to publish it some day, though I think I wouldn't mind if I just posted it somewhere on the internet and called it a day

When did you start writing?

The earliest time I can remember that wasn't school assignments was probably around 2018/2019. I had recently discovered fanfiction and had stumbled across the wonderful realisation that I could write my own!

Do you have any words of encouragement for fellow writers of writeblr? What other writers do you follow?

As much as I'm pretty much just reiterating what's already been said;

your writing is a lot better than you think it is, so keep on at it!

write out your ideas and your hopes and all the vibes you want to incorporate into your story

write away your fears and insecurities and the stagnation that wants to settle

write whatever your head won't let you forget and the aches that linger in your heart

but just make sure that you write

I remember a really cool analogy that I saw somewhere here that went something like;

your words and works and WIPs that you write down are like seeds you plant in a garden;

sometimes they won't always come out looking the best;

they may not be vibrant or fruitful or even very pretty

but because you planted them, and when the time comes for them to die,

they'll make for excellent fertiliser for the next batch of seeds

and you best believe after all your hard work with the first batch

the next one will turn out much, much better

and the one after that, and forever

so make sure you plant your seeds!

Gently tagging: @the-ellia-west @the-stray-storyteller @aalinaaaaaa @hero-coded

@blackwood4stucky @bebewrites @hayatheauthor @agirlandherquill

@ashwithapen @friendlyshaped @dendotdrabbles @cupandquillcafe

and of course, any other writer who's interested!

author ask tag

Thank you @the-inkwell-variable for tagging me. I had to think hard on these answers.

I'll use my current WIP for this. It was once called TLBH. Now, its WotG. We will see if it changes again.

What is the main lesson of your story? Why did you choose it?

I think the main lesson would be that there's always something bigger than you, and sometimes you have to decide whether or not that something is great enough for you to change as a person. My characters go through and will continue to go through a lot. They are constantly tested and while some of them rise above it all--no question about it, others struggle with every step. Some are never able to stand up at all.

What did you use as inspiration for your worldbuilding?

I used the real world as inspiration. I really like history and religion, so I studied tons of cultures and languages and historical events. I have a lot of mythology, history, and religion/philosophy books and links saved because I'm just so fascinated with how everyone sees and understands things differently.

What is your MC trying to achieve, and what are you, the writer, trying to achieve with them? Do you want to inspire others, teach forgiveness, or help the reader grow as a person?

It is multiple POV, but without giving away too much, I’d say that every character is searching for purpose and acceptance in one way or another. I think I, as the writer, want to show how motivations change as we change as people, and that's okay. I want to tell a story that inspires people to love, change, fight, and live.

How many chapters is your story going to have?

I'm currently looking at a series with five books total. This first story will have 35-36 chapters.

Is it fanfiction or original content? Where do you plan to post it?

All OG. I want to publish traditionally, but we'll see what happens.

When did you start writing?

Since I could string together semi complex thoughts and also hold a pencil lol. I've always liked writing. I started writing fanfics some time in high school, maybe around age 15. If you want to get technical, though, my first fanfiction was in elementary school and it was about young Jack Sparrow before he became THEE Jack Sparrow.

Do you have any words of encouragement for fellow writers of writeblr? What other writers do you follow?

WRITE! Who cares if you think it's ass?

Write the story you always wanted to read but could never find.

Talk to other writers. Make friends. It can be very lonely, but having people that understand what you're doing and are also going through the same process is helpful.

I'm still working on the last one.

I follow a ton of writers on here, so I think I'll tag a bunch of people just for the hell of it.

@frantheram @mrbexwrites @stargazingdustbunny @marsh0mallows99th @cwritesfiction @writingamongther0ses @paintedbutton @inkednotebook @lukas-wrld @writinglittlebeasts @vicwriting @kae-luna @the-orangeauthor @kckramer @ghost-type-writer @phynewrites @wildswrites @jamieanovels @tabswrites