#i cannot express how much this means to me

[comicaurora]

So uhh. If you feel like talking about it. As someone who lives in the US, how are you being kind to yourself on this upsetting morning <3

Checked in with my loved ones first and foremost.

It's interesting. The vibe I've been getting from my circle is very different from 2016. Much less… dread and horror at a realignment of the understanding of what can and can't happen here, now, in this place and day and age. More "fuck, guys. again? whatever. enjoy your consequences, maybe you'll manage to learn something this time."

Frustration and anger is not the most positive feeling, or even the most fair one to express, but it is a protective one. It hurts a lot less than most alternatives.

And it's quite a shift. It was earthshattering back then. How could this have been allowed to happen? Why couldn't it be stopped? Why couldn't we stop it? Why couldn't I stop it? Why couldn't everyone see what this meant? Why couldn't I make them understand? Did they really not care? What did that mean about humanity as a whole? Were we so thoughtless? How could anyone be trusted?

It seems… much less earthshattering to see it happen twice. Disappointing, sure. Frustrating. But nowhere near as devastating as the first time I saw it unfold. We already knew it could happen. I've already had time to digest the implications. Now I'm just freshly disappointed.

It also feels less indicative of Crushing Truths Of Reality this time. We've seen shit get bad. We've also seen shit get better from here! We know both outcomes are possible, even inevitable. We know hoping for a better future is always worthwhile. This isn't the apocalypse. It's an unremarkably bad turn of events brought on by unremarkably self-centered well-documented human impulses. It's utterly mundane in its unpleasantness. It doesn't need to be dignified with despair.

A democratic election, no matter the outcome or the side we're on, makes us all acutely aware of how outnumbered we are by people whose worldviews and priorities are demonstrably incomprehensible to us. And the first time you get outnumbered, it's a shock. Defeat is haunting. It didn't matter how badly you wanted it; by the very function of democracy, you do not have the power to override greater numbers. (insert electoral college caveat here)

The second time through, I find myself focusing on a different facet that has dramatically reduced the amount of spiralling I'm doing. I don't expect this to work for everyone, but for me specifically, it helped to crystallize a few thoughts:

You don't have the power to control anyone else. You don't. You can't share your worldview and your revelations with them. You can't make them think or understand anything. You can lay it all out for them, but you can't make them listen, and you can't make it click. A mentor can't make their student learn a lesson; that's why teaching is so complicated and hard. An active choice must be made by the person to enable themselves to understand, and they must put the pieces together in their own mind before it makes sense to them, and the pieces must have been presented in a way that makes sense to them in the first place. Lead a horse to water, can't make them drink.

These elections highlight a disconnect in what different groups of people care about; and no matter how clearly you explain yourself or how passionately you perform, caring cannot be forced on someone. Understanding and connection cannot be forced. You cannot make anything or anyone matter to someone. They have to choose to see how it matters in order to internalize it. If they choose not to, that is not your failing. You couldn't have made them do it by just Explaining Better. They are not your responsibility. They make their own choices. You can't reach inside their head and connect the dots for them.

I'm a storyteller. I make stories and put them out into the world. I hope people get something good out of them, but I have no control over what that something is. I want people to be thoughtful and kind and compassionate and hopeful and see themselves reflected in stranges, no matter their differences. I can craft stories that I hope encourage this. But that is the extent of my ability and the extent of my responsibility. I control no-one's actions but my own, and so while I am not having the best day, I am at least content that I am doing what I can, and I am not shattering myself against impossibilities trying to control the things I can't.

Sometimes, people make decisions that I think are really bad. I can't make that not happen. All I can do is try to make decisions that will result in things I think are good. Today, that means checking in on people, and not assigning too much dramatic narrative weight to an ultimately mundane set of unremarkable bad decisions outside of my control. We'll take life as it comes and help each other out when and how we can. Everything else is out of our hands.

[pulsingvoid]

i really dont feel qualified enough to speak out about anything im still too tired and scared and full of both warranted and misplaced guilt to properly function but i do need to express one thing. which is that we have got to find a way to talk about women and feminism and misogyny and men and the patriarchy again. we cannot go on pretending misogyny isnt as rampant as ever, more rampant than its been in a long time, and that it isnt just as much a danger as all the other fucking dangers hovering over us at any given minute. letting terfs hog feminist spaces is one of the worst things we did and im tired of blaming the terfs for it when thats just as much on us as it is on them. we are letting ourselves down and we are letting trans women down we are so segregated and so distractible we tiptoe around everything we have fucked our solidarity to hell im sick of biting my tongue on women's issues im sick of being nervous to voice my opinions to other women irl and im sick of having to check feminist blogs on here to see if theyre terfs before i interact im sick of people nitpicking each other's language because certain things sound like "terf dogwhistles" like yeah no shit they do because they weaponized them! theyre controlling the entire fucking narrative! at this point i'd rather see flawed feminism than none at all maybe im crazy but i am trying to have some fucking faith in other women and i know how i feel and how much i love my trans sisters and my trans friends and how safe i feel in trans spaces because im becoming a bigger and more gender nonconforming dyke with every breath i take and i dont care how it comes off to strangers online im gonna rebuild my community and im gonna talk more about being a woman and all that entails and what it means to me. and if any of this spoke to you in any way i am literally begging you to find a way to do the same

[endangeredrandomfanfics]

"A Mother's Defiance"

Summary: Agatha x Rio x Reader Where in the scenario Nicholas never happened but the reader did and Agatha beg Rio not to take them, based on the episode 9 of Agatha All Along

A/n: I'm weak for Agatha and Rio being mother's

The forest was silent and heavy with mist, as if nature itself had drawn a veil over this secluded place. Agatha stumbled through the dense thicket, her hand pressed firmly to her belly, her breaths shallow and rapid. She could feel it—the heartbeat within her growing faint, slipping further from her grasp with every painful step.

“Please… stay with me…” she whispered, her voice barely a murmur against the rustling of leaves and the cold whisper of the night air.

Ahead, the shadows seemed to twist and shift, growing thicker and darker. A familiar presence manifested from the haze—a tall, cloaked figure who moved with an ethereal grace, as quiet and inevitable as the night itself. Agatha’s breath hitched. She knew who stood before her without needing to look up.

Rio. Her love, her partner, her solace… and the very embodiment of death itself.

The two women locked eyes, and for a fleeting moment, all the memories they had shared seemed to pass between them—years of devotion, secrets and laughter stolen in dark corners, and promises whispered under starlit skies. But tonight, there was no warmth in the gaze Rio held; her face was calm, but her eyes carried a sorrow too deep to fathom.

Agatha sank to her knees, her fingers trembling as they clutched her abdomen. “No…” she whispered, her voice cracking. “No, not them.”

Rio stepped forward, her hand reaching out as though to steady Agatha, but then she hesitated, her fingers hovering in the cold night air. “Agatha, my love,” she said, her voice gentle yet unyielding, as steady as the ticking of a clock. “You know why I’m here. You knew this day would come.”

A sob escaped Agatha’s lips, and she doubled over, cradling her belly as though she could shield the fragile life within her. “Please,” she gasped, looking up at Rio with eyes full of tears and desperation. “They haven’t even had a chance… our child, our hope… they haven’t even seen the world yet.” Her voice trembled. “Don’t take them away from me. Not yet. Please, my love, not now.”

Rio’s expression softened, and she knelt down beside Agatha, her face a mask of quiet anguish. She reached out, her hand cupping Agatha’s cheek with a tenderness that betrayed the sorrow in her heart. “You don’t know how much it pains me to do this,” she murmured, her voice laced with grief. “If there were another way, I would take it. But the balance must be kept, and I am bound to my duty, even if it means…” Her voice broke, and she turned her gaze away, struggling to keep her composure. “Even if it means taking this from you.”

Agatha’s face crumpled as she grasped Rio’s hand, pressing it desperately to her face as if she could hold onto her love’s touch forever. “Then break the rules,” she whispered fiercely. “Just this once, my love. You’re Death, yes, but you’re also mine. I’ve risked everything for us. I would give my life, my soul, anything… just to keep our child safe. Please…”

Rio closed her eyes, a single tear tracing down her cheek. Agatha could see the conflict tearing her apart, the war between duty and love waging a fierce battle in her eyes. “To defy the laws of life and death…” Rio whispered, her voice as fragile as glass. “It could unravel everything. It could destroy us both.”

Agatha shook her head, her grip tightening as she looked at Rio with all the fierceness of a mother’s love. “Then let it,” she replied, her voice fierce and unwavering. “If it’s a choice between losing you or losing them, then let it be me who’s lost. Just don’t take them, my love. I beg you.”

Rio’s composure wavered, her face contorted with pain. She glanced away, her voice so soft it was almost swallowed by the night. “You know that I cannot deny you… not when you look at me like that. Not when you call me by that name.”

Agatha felt a flicker of hope, and she leaned forward, pressing her forehead against Rio’s. “Please, my love,” she whispered, her voice filled with raw, aching desperation. “Save them. For me. Just this once.”

Rio’s shoulders slumped, the weight of her choice pressing down on her like the weight of the entire world. She reached up, cupping Agatha’s face in her hands, her thumb brushing away a tear. “If I grant this mercy… it will be borrowed, not forgiven. The debt will come due, and one day, I will have to return.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “When that time comes, nothing will stay my hand.”

Agatha’s tears streamed down her face, but she nodded, her voice breaking as she promised, “Then we’ll cherish every moment until that day. I’ll guard our child… with everything I have. Just give them a chance, my love. Please.”

With a deep, shuddering breath, Rio closed her eyes and began to murmur ancient words, a language older than the stars. The forest seemed to tremble, the shadows rippling as if in protest. Agatha felt a surge of warmth spread through her, and the faint heartbeat within her grew stronger, vibrant, a light against the darkness.

A gasp of relief escaped Agatha’s lips, and she sank into Rio’s arms, her sobs turning to laughter as she held her love close, clinging to the miracle that had been granted. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice breaking as she buried her face in Rio’s shoulder. “Thank you, my love.”

Rio held her, her own tears falling silently as she pressed a kiss to Agatha’s forehead, a promise and a farewell all in one. “This life is borrowed, Agatha,” she murmured, her voice heavy with sorrow. “One day, I will come to collect the debt, and no power will hold me back.”

Agatha pulled back, looking into Rio’s eyes with fierce determination. “Then I’ll protect them. I’ll protect us… no matter the cost.”

Rio’s fingers lingered on Agatha’s face, a final touch as the shadows began to pull her away, her form beginning to dissolve into the mist. “Until we meet again, my love,” she whispered, her voice carrying a promise of eternity. “Remember… I am yours, in life and in death.”

As Rio’s form faded into the night, Agatha clutched her belly, feeling the steady heartbeat within—a heartbeat saved by a love stronger than fate, bound by a debt that would one day come due.

The forest, now quiet, seemed to close around her as Agatha remained kneeling in the wet earth, her body trembling as she tried to catch her breath. The moment of peace didn’t last long.

Suddenly, an ache seized her body, sharp and overwhelming. She gasped, clutching her stomach, her eyes wide with fear. Her body, which had been so still just moments ago, seemed to come alive with the force of the contractions. The pain was unbearable, worse than anything she had felt before. It was as though her body was splitting in two.

“No… no, not now…” she whispered, her voice hoarse as she stumbled to her feet. The night air felt suffocating as her legs gave way beneath her. She dropped to the ground, pressing her hands against the earth, the sharp pain cutting through her like a blade.

The forest held its breath as Agatha cried out, her body betraying her with every agonizing wave. She could feel it now, the child within her, pressing against her, trying to force its way into the world. Their child. Her child.

Her tears mixed with the rain that had begun to fall, the forest around her alive with the sounds of her struggle. She gritted her teeth, her nails digging into the earth, willing herself to hold on, to keep fighting for the life within her. “You can’t… you can’t go… not yet,” she gasped, her voice broken.

With every scream, with every tear, the child within her fought to be born.

And then, with one final, overwhelming push, the pain shattered, and the cries of a newborn filled the air.

Agatha collapsed back onto the ground, her arms trembling as she pulled the tiny, fragile life into her arms. She held them close, feeling the warmth of their tiny body against her chest, their heartbeat a steady rhythm in the quiet night. She breathed in their scent, her heart swelling with a fierce love.

“You’re here…” she whispered, her voice trembling. “You’re finally here, my love.”

The baby nestled against her, their cries fading into soft whimpers as they settled in Agatha’s embrace. She rocked them gently, her tears of joy mingling with the rain. For a moment, everything felt still. The world seemed to pause, and she held her child—her and Rio’s child—close, savoring the sweetness of this moment that had almost been taken from her.

And though the night was dark and the forest whispered all around her, Agatha felt a profound sense of peace. “I will protect you… with everything I am, my love. No matter the cost.”

________________________________________

A/n: Shall I turn this into a series?👀 Following the events of WandaVision and Agatha All Along???

[raven-dor]

when you light the candle

in which gwayne hightower finds love in the arms of the targaryen heir, rhaenyra’s daughter

PAIRING: gwayne hightower x targaryen!reader

WARNINGS: arranged marriage, allusion to slight nsfw, typical HOTD language, Aegon being a creep, fluff!!

WORD COUNT: 6.4k

AN: in this fic, viserys is dead and rhaenyra became queen (YAY) but her peaceful accession came with a price... also ages for gwayne and alicent are different because i thought it would be weird to have a huge disgusting age gap!!

“My dear-” Rhaenyra sighed. 

“I understand my duty as heir, Mother, but that does not mean I cannot express my grievances.” Her daughter crossed her arms. “You cannot blame me for being hesitant. A Hightower, really?” Her face contorted with disgust. “It feels as if I am being condemned to death.” 

“Y/N…” Rhaenyra fought the urge to laugh. She often forgot how alike she and her daughter were. “My darling girl, I am sorry, truly, but our kingdom needs stability, and this marriage will see to that. You must-” 

“Like I said earlier,” Y/N snapped back, sitting down rather unladylike. “I understand, no need to explain it any further.” 

“Yes well… for what it is worth, I have heard he is a rather kind man.” Rhaenyra scoffed, plucking a grape off the vine. “Shocking for a knight, I think.” 

Y/N smiled to herself, staring into the distance. “I seem to remember one such knight.” 

While her daughter may have resembled her in personality and stature, much like her brothers, Y/N was the spitting image of her father. “He was very kind, yes.” Rhaenyra sat beside the young woman, pushing a stray hair behind her ear gently. “And loving.” She whispered. “Your father loved you very much.” 

Y/N nodded. “I know, Mother.” Holding her hand, she smiled. “He loved you just as much.” 

Rhaenyra could not find it in herself to speak, simply nodding. 

Y/N straightened her dress for what felt like the hundredth time in the last hour, or at least that is what it felt like for Jacaerys, who was watching in amusement. 

“I fear if you pull on your fabric anymore, it will fall off.” 

She rolled her eyes, shoving her brother harshly. “When you are of age and put on display for all the eligible young ladies to gawk and stare at, tell me, dear brother, how calm and collected you feel then.” 

“Nervous?” He raised an eyebrow, smirking. “It is showing, I must say.”

“For the entirety of the court to judge me for this ridiculous dress?” She jutted her hip, glaring. “Not in the slightest.” 

He sighed, extending his arm for her to hold as the grand doors opened. He leaned over whispering in her ear comfortingly. “You’re a dragon, sister. Do not forget it.” 

Taking a deep breath, she stood as straight as possible, smiling like she hadn’t just been spiraling. “Quite a lot of green in this crowd.” Y/N muttered, waving politely as she passed her subjects. 

Jacaerys scoffed. “I expect you’ll be seeing much more in the coming weeks now that you’re marrying a Hightower.” 

Y/N fought the urge to roll her eyes, pinching his arm discreetly. He hissed, and she laughed as their mother watched from the high table, suppressing a grin. Bowing before their mother, step father, and the Dowager Queen, both tried to sneak a peek at her husband to be. 

Y/N smiled as they stood upright. “Your Majesties.” 

Alicent smiled half-heartedly. It was better than nothing, she supposed. Her brothers did not receive the same treatment, the smiles, the ‘good will’. The Dowager Queen had always had a soft spot for Y/N. 

Why, she had no idea. 

Taking their place beside their mother, Rhaenyra stood, addressing the crowd. “It was not long ago that I myself was in this position. Marriage is work, marriage is patience. Fortunately, my daughter seems to have much more patience than I.” Laughter fell over the crowd, and Rhaenyra gestured toward the Dowager Queen and her family that sat beside her. “Our houses have long been allies, and I am glad to continue that tradition with this union.” She raised her glass, smiling at her daughter as she spoke. “May their marriage be blessed!” 

The crowd raised their glasses in unison, cheering for the Princess, who was smiling brightly, the very picture of nobility and duty. None of them knew the truth: how she really had no idea who she was marrying or what exactly she was getting into. 

After what felt like minutes of applause, Y/N sat down, indulging herself in a rather full cup of mead. “My lady.” She turned around, her breath catching at the sight of the man in front of her. 

He was quite tall, and handsome. 

“I wanted to introduce myself.” 

She smiled, setting her glass down. “You must be Lord Hightower.” 

He nodded. “You are quite intuitive.” 

Oh. Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Or observant. It does not take a mastermind to see the resemblance between you and your sister.” 

That was the other thing she could not get passed. Yes, she was two and twenty, practically an old maid, but did that really mean she could get married off to a man only two years younger than her mother? 

Lord Hightower did not look disheartened. If anything, her resistance to his ‘charm’ made him more intrigued. “I wonder, my lady, if I could interest you in a dance?” 

Y/N smiled, annoyance all but rolling off of her shoulders. “I believe-” 

Rhaenyra cut in, staring at her daughter with an intensity that rivaled her dragon. “I’m sure the Princess would be delighted to dance with you, Ser Gwayne.” 

“Yes.” Y/N smiled tightly. “I would love to.”

Gwayne extended his hand, bowing his head, slightly. “My lady.” 

She took his hand, following him to the dance floor. The rest of the nobility followed after, the waltz gently playing in the background as they moved around the room. Gwayne leaned down, whispering in her ear. “You seem rather upset with this arrangement, Princess.” 

She tried not to scowl. “I am merely upset that yet another choice of my life has been decided for me.” Her eyes widening, realizing she had just told her husband to be something she had only told her family. “I-” 

He smiled, shaking his head. “Do not apologize to me. If I were in your position, I would be equally as frustrated, perhaps more.” He whispered again. “I’m rather passionate about these sorts of things.” 

The Princess raised an eyebrow, curious. “You are passionate about what exactly?” 

“Anything you are.” He spun her around, laughing at her flushed cheeks. “I plan to be very supportive of my wife, unlike many of my peers.” 

Her heart fluttered, but her face told a different story. “How… kind of you ser.” 

Jace squinted his eyes, glaring at the Hightower man. “I don’t trust him, mother.” 

Rhaenyra laughed, appreciative of her son’s protectiveness. “You must know Jacaerys, that I would never match your sister with a man I did not consider to be of high moral character.” She raised an eyebrow. “Do you believe me cruel?” 

“No.” Jace shook his head, looking back to the man charming his sister. Or, trying to at the very least. “But still…” 

He hadn’t even kissed her on the lips. It kept racing through her mind as she sat front and center at her reception. At their reception. He hadn’t even kissed her on the lips. She had been walked up the aisle by her brother, stood beside him, prepared herself, and he kissed her on the corner of her mouth. 

What sort of kiss was that?

She was confused, unbelievably confused.

“Are you alright, Princess?” Gwayne whispered. 

She nodded, not knowing whether to feel offended or relieved at his hesitation. “Fine.” 

“Do you need a moment? Perhaps we can-” 

Of course. He wanted to retire and start the bedding process. She almost scoffed in his face. “I need to find my mother.” She didn’t wait for a response, standing up and walking into the crowd. Her mother was fixed in the back of the room, talking with Baela and Jace. Y/N approached her mother, hooking her arm through hers. “May I talk to you?” She gestured toward the two teenagers. “Alone.” 

Rhaenyra nodded slowly, shooing the young couple away. “Are you alright?” 

“I-” Y/N pulled her mother to a secluded area of the hall. “He wants to retire.” 

“He wants to-” The older woman’s face dawned with realization. “I see.” 

Y/N nodded. “I-” She gulped, whispering. “I’m scared, Mother.” 

Rhaenyra smiled, pulling her daughter into a tight embrace. “My sweet girl. Don’t be frightened. Truly.” She pulled away, placing a comforting hand on her cheek. “He will not touch you until you are ready, I am most certain of it.” 

“Mother, he is a lord, like any other we’ve come to know. He will-” 

“Do you trust me?” Rhaenyra whispered. 

Y/N nodded, grasping her mother’s hand tightly. “Of course I do.” 

“Then trust me once more. Your husband is a good man, and he will not touch you unless you…” She paused. “He will not touch you, unless that is what you wish.” 

Ah.

Y/N felt torn. He was attractive, she had to admit, and kind enough. But still, she hadn’t wanted to… not again. She squeezed her eyes shut, murmuring under her breath. “He’ll, he’ll find out-” 

She had put her trust in the wrong squire. She was only ten and five and he was sweet, or so she thought. She'd trusted him, and he had used her for his moment of fame, a way to coerce the Royal Family. Daemon had gone manic when he had found out, and the squire… Rhaenyra shook her head. “He will never know unless you choose to tell him.” 

Y/N nodded, smiling weakly. “Goodnight, Mother.” Spinning on her heels, she stalked toward the main table, standing in front of Gwayne. “Shall we?” 

Her husband looked shocked but still nodded. The crowd started jeering, laughing, and making comments about the Princess’s eagerness. That hadn’t made her disturbed.

What disturbed her was that in a few moments, the entirety of the royal court would all be in their shared quarters, watching the bedding ceremony. 

It had been a silent walk, neither of them making an attempt to speak to the other. The maid’s eyes all but fell out of their sockets when they saw the Princess burst through their doors, Lord Hightower diligently following three paces behind her. 

Gwayne had sensed his wife was an anxious woman the moment they’d met, but tonight, that anxiety was pouring off of her in waves. He smiled kindly at the servants, dismissing them from their work. “That will be all for tonight, thank you.” They scurried out, leaving the pair alone for the first time. He looked curiously at the young woman, who was pacing around the room. Taking a careful step toward her, he spoke softly. “Are you quite alright, my lady?” 

“Why-” She stopped, staring at him. “You didn’t kiss me.” 

“I-” 

“I understand that I am quite homely compared to the beauties of Oldtown, but…” She shook her head, stalking toward him with an accusing finger pointed. “You embarrassed me at my own wedding. The least you could have done-” 

“You are not homely, my lady.” He reached a hand out, caressing her cheek. “Quite the opposite really.” 

She tensed, pulling out of his touch. “You Hightowers- you’re always planning something. I am the heir to the Iron Throne, and you would treat me as a common woman, not worthy of your love or respect. Even if I wasn’t heir, you should never treat a woman-”

She was quite beautiful, he’d noticed. Watching her rant about his family filled his heart with something he couldn’t quite place. Her eyes were passionate, full of fire and drive. Her hair was quite beautiful while it was down, so dark and full.

“Are you- are you even listening to me?” 

Gods, she had caught him staring. “I-” 

“I’m sure you are fantasizing about how you will take me during the bedding ceremony, but I assure you, this will be the most uninteresting moment of our married life. Hopefully, I will embarrass you as much as you embarrassed me.” She crossed her arms, satisfied with her dig at his supposed thoughts. While he struggled to find the words to respond, she began to remove her clothes, remaining covered by her thin slip. 

His cheeks grew red, and he raised his eyebrows, trying not to combust. “Bedding ceremony?” Gwayne coughed. His voice sounded as if it was being squeezed.

“Are you playing dumb?” She scoffed. “I am sure you have been to plenty a poor maiden’s wedding night.” 

He tilted his head, thoroughly confused. “I’m sorry if you have been led astray, but there is to be no bedding ceremony.”

“Ah.” She somehow felt… disappointed? “My mother saved me that embarrassment at least.” 

“Well, it was actu-” She stormed past him, slipping on her robe and slippers. “Where are you going?” 

“Away from you. I don’t trust you not to-” 

While she was stunningly beautiful and quickly driving him into a stupor, he could not stand by and let her assume the worst of him. “Listen to me when I say this- I do not ever wish to embarrass you. Ever. It was I who denied the bedding ceremony. The ‘men’ of the court brought the proposition to me, and when I denied them…” His eyes became dark. “That is a disgusting and vile tradition, one that I do not wish to practice.” 

She felt warm, and caught herself smiling. Shaking her head, she pulled her robe closer to her body. “You- you vex me.” 

He laughed, stepping closer to her, a smirk gracing his handsome face. “You vex me just as much.” He held her hand, kissing the back gently. “My lady.” 

“You-” She growled, stomping her foot like a child. “Good night my lord.” Whipping around, she practically flew out the door, leaving Gwayne alone in their chambers.

Saying farewell had proven to be much more difficult than she had thought. But wearing green… she felt like an imposter. She looked down the line, forcing herself not to laugh at Aegon’s fresh black eye. He refused to make eye contact with her, she could not figure out why. The only Greens she had bothered saying goodbye to were Helaena and the Dowager Queen, ignoring her two uncles. They never cared for each other, if anything, she would be glad to be rid of their presence. 

Her brothers stood in a row, each growing sadder as she approached them. Aegon and Viserys did not understand why she was leaving, too young to understand the impact this would have on their family. Joffrey was visibly melancholy, clinging to his sister tightly. He whispered, looking up at her with wide eyes. “Don’t leave me.” 

Y/N smiled, kneeling down to be eye level with her little brother. “I will never leave you, Joff. I’ll visit you often, I promise.” She kissed his cheek gently, standing back up, approaching the two eldest. “Behave yourselves.” They looked at her with watery eyes and stoic faces. “Take care of Mother and the boys. I expect-” They both lunged forward, hugging her tightly. She laughed, ruffling their hair. “It will be alright. I’ll be back.” 

Luke’s face was wet, and he mumbled into the fabric of her dress. “No you won’t.” 

She scoffed. “I will. You just wait and see.” 

Jace let go, crossing his arms accusingly. “You’ll be busy, I imagine. Taking care of your family.” 

Y/N reached out, grasping his hand tightly. “You are my family. Always. I will always be your sister, you can confide in me until we are old and grey. The city of Oldtown is always open to you.” 

She looked back to Gwayne, who nodded firmly, stepping forward to address the princes. “She is correct. Visit whenever you like.” He looked to Y/N, whispering. “We should depart soon.” 

She nodded, looking back to her siblings. “I must leave.” 

Lucerys let go, wiping away the leftover tears that clung to his cheeks. “I’ll write to you.” 

She smiled. “Nothing would please me more.” 

Gwayne held his arm out, but Y/N ignored him, approaching Jacaerys carefully. “I will miss you.” 

He nodded, staring at the ground. “And I you.” 

“Jace,” she sighed. “I do not wish to leave you upset.”

“I am not upset.” He scoffed. 

She laughed, shaking her head affectionately. “I suppose your watery eyes are simply a result of hay fever.” 

His shoulders shook slightly, a smile peeking out from behind his frown. “Have a safe trip sister.” 

She nodded, kissing his forehead gently. “You will be one for the history books, I know it.”

Taking Gwayne’s arm, she looked back at her family one last time before entering the carriage.

“Thank you.” She whispered.

He smiled. “Whatever for?” 

“I know you hit Aegon.” She crossed her arms, smirking. “I assume he was one of the ‘men’ who asked you about the bedding ceremony. Am I right?” He nodded. “That is quite noble of you.” 

His cheeks grew red. “Merely protecting your honor, my lady.” 

She smiled, reaching her hand out, holding his hand for a moment. “You are a much better man than most.” 

“It is not hard to do…” He whispered, his eyes kind. “When one has you as a wife.”

Oldtown had done nothing for the couple’s relationship, if anything, it had dwindled it back down into the nothingness it once was. Gwayne was busy running the city in the wake of his uncle’s death, and Y/N, she knew no one. After becoming the Lady Hightower, her old ladies in waiting were taken away, as she was now too low of a position to house that many young ladies for ‘seemingly no reason.’ That had made no sense to her. She was heir to the Iron Throne, how was she at ‘too low of a position?’ Still…

She was utterly alone. 

She had tried to make an effort, at first. Gwayne had appreciated it, (as evident from his words at dinner), but he was constantly busy, off in meetings or dealing with skirmishes in the city. Perusing the halls of the castle had passed the time for the first fortnight of her arrival. She loved the way the tower seemingly never ended, even when she reached the attic. It felt infinite, full of new corridors she’d never seen before. 

That too grew tiring. 

It began to feel so when she came to know the halls of the tower as well as the back of her own hand. 

After a rather dreary morning, she meticulously planned her escape. Sneaking away from the watchful eye of her assigned guards, she raced towards the stable, mounting her horse and galloping through the great gates. The citizens of Oldtown stared, murmuring about their new lady. Y/N laughed, not caring to think of their opinions as long as the breeze ran through her hair and the sun shone on her face. The surrounding land smelled fresh, unlike that of King’s Landing. She had no real destination, following the well traveled path until she reached a clearing. Tying her horse to a nearby tree, she strolled down the hill, meeting the most tranquil scene she’d ever been graced with in her life. A large lake, rivaling that of the ocean, laid before her, a small island in the middle of it all. 

She removed her robe and garments, haphazardly tossing them on a nearby log. Practically falling into the lake, the water quieted the world around her. A sort of gargled voice rang through the peaceful quiet and she jumped, standing up in the lake to meet her husband's wide eyes. 

“My lord.” She smiled weakly. 

“A guard informed me that my wife was last seen racing out of Oldtown’s gates.” His voice held a sort of humor. “Naturally, I had to investigate the incident myself.” 

She laughed, clutching herself for warmth. “I am sorry if I worried you.” 

He shook his head. “There is no need to apologize, my lady.” He picked up her robe, extending his hand. She took it gratefully, wrapping the warm cloth around her. “In fact, no one would fault you if you had left. If that is in fact-” 

“No!” She yelled, covering her mouth with her hand in shock. “I meant…” She stepped forward, placing a hand on his arm. “I am quite content, my lord. I wanted respite. From the tower.” 

He nodded, holding her hand in his. “You are shivering.” 

“I am quite fine, my lord.” 

He raised an eyebrow. “I have never known shivering to end in any sort of ‘fine,’ my lady.” He smiled, extending his arm. “Shall we?” 

The couple walked in silence for a moment, enjoying each other's presence. Y/N looked up, clearing her throat. “May I request something of you?” 

Gwayne nodded eagerly. “Anything.” 

Y/N smiled, warmth blooming inside of her chest. “Call me by my name, please. I don’t think I can go another day being addressed as my lady.” She whispered, staring at the ground. “It is quite formal, is it not? For a husband and wife, that is.” 

“I would like that.” Gwayne smiled, lifting her chin with a single finger. “As long as you call me by mine in return.” 

She nodded, fighting the blush that threatened to form. He was rather beautiful, with his freckles and long hair. “I believe that can be arranged.” 

“Gwayne!” She called out for what felt like the fifth time. She had missed his company in truth, and hadn’t seen him in what felt like weeks. (It had been a mere day.)

“Gwayne?” She pushed open a cracked door, grinning. “Are you-” She frowned. The room was empty, except for a portrait. She felt pulled forward, walking further into the room. The woman was stern looking, but beautiful, there was no doubt in her mind. The portraits eyes were bright blue, piercing the very soul who dared to look back at her. 

“I see you found my mother.” 

Y/N clutched her chest, whipping around. “You frightened me!” 

He laughed, walking forward and kissing the back of her hand gently. “I apologize.” His tone was soft, quiet as a mouse. “Did I truly scare you?” 

She shook her head, their eyes locked in a dangerous embrace. "So this is your mother?” 

He nodded, turning towards the portrait. “My father commissioned it mere months before she died.” He smiled, tightening his hold on her hand. “When I was younger, I would find him in here, staring at her likeness." He laughed to himself. "They were quite the couple.” 

“I’m sure you miss her terribly.” 

Gwayne’s shoulders tensed. “In truth, it has been so long that I have forgotten what her presence felt like.” 

That had made her frown even more. “I understand.” 

He nodded. “It is difficult. Trying to remember a parent you hardly knew.” 

Y/N’s eyes watered. “Quite.” Taking a deep breath, she turned towards her husband, her voice low. “You look like the very image of her. Your mother.” 

He smiled. “Is that a compliment, dear wife?” 

She blushed, shrugging as nonchalantly as she could. “She is quite beautiful.” 

“Ah.” Gwayne was now fully grinning. “The same could be said about you.” 

Her blush vanished, and she shoved him away, rolling her eyes playfully. “Do not tease me, Gwayne Hightower.” 

His hand grasped his heart, following after her like a lost puppy. “I would never.” 

The Oldtown Library was the very picture of tranquility. Lord and Lady Hightower had chosen to take advantage of the quiet day, and had been simply enjoying each other’s company for hours. It was so rare to have this time together, and Y/N enjoyed knowing that at any moment, she could call out to her husband and he would answer. 

She hoped he felt the same.

Her legs ached, having been in this position for so long had caused one of them to go numb. Stretching her legs, she walked over to the bookshelf, scouring for a novel she had read in King’s Landing. She groaned, crossing her arms in annoyance. Of course, the novel was on the tallest shelf. 

Reaching up, she made herself as tall as possible, but it was no use. She huffed, whipping around to ask Gwayne for help. 

It was like he had already read her mind, because she ran into his solid chest, gasping at the sudden impact. She knew her cheeks were bright red, but she still looked up at his piercing gaze.

He smirked, whispering. “Would you like some help?” 

“I-” She bit her lip. “My book. I fear it is too high for me to reach.” 

“I believe…” He reached up, staring at her all the while. “That I can be of some assistance.” The book was in his grasp, but she made no move to pull it out of his hands. 

“Thank you.” She whispered back. Her back was now fully against the bookshelf, Gwayne inches away from her. “Are you- Are you quite alright, my lord?” 

Gods, she was perfection itself, her tone sending shivers down his spine. “What have I told you about calling me my lord?” He sighed, leaning his forehead against hers. “As of late, I find myself…” 

She nodded, eager for him to continue. “Yes?” 

“I- I find myself wanting for you. Wanting to be near you, wanting to feel your touch…” He laughed. “It is quite intoxicating. You have captivated me, body and soul.” 

She felt as if her very skin was on fire. Her heart skipped, Gods, is this what marriage was like? She wanted to capture his lips against hers and bring him to bed. “Gwayne… I-” Of course, doubts flew through her mind. How many women had he said this to before? How many more would he say this to during their marriage? “You do not mean that.” 

“I-” He tilted his head. “I do not mean that you have-”

“I am not… you don’t-” Her eyes started to tear up. “Gwayne, I am not-” 

He leaned down, capturing her in a passionate kiss. Her eyes widened, and she sighed, falling into his arms, which tightened around her waist every moment they kissed. “You are. Gods, if I could worship you, I would-” 

She placed a finger over his lips, silencing him. “Do not say such things.” 

He removed her finger from her mouth, kissing her hand gently. “You will find, dear wife, that I am not a liar. You are as divine as the-” 

Her finger found its way back over his lips. She laughed at his expression, still as calm and patient as the day she met him. There was something new however, a passion she hadn’t seen before. “You- Do you have any idea the things I-” She squeezed her eyes shut, telling herself to be brave. “Just-” She surged forward, pulling him back down into her lips. 

His eyes widened, but he did not fight her, if anything, he had pulled her closer. His arms felt perfect around her waist, she’d thought as his thumb caressed her ribcage. He pulled away from her lips, whispering. “What have I done to deserve you?” 

She sucked a breath in. “I- I need to go.” 

His eyebrows furrowed, loosening his grip. “Are you alright?” 

“I just-” She nodded, smiling weakly. “I have a meeting with Lady Redwyne, she-” She turned away, walking towards the door. “Have a good evening, My lord.”

Avoiding your husband was not for the faint of heart. Or so she had told herself as she actively avoided her own. Out of embarrassment or lack of self control, she didn’t know. She felt overwhelmed by his affection for her, overwhelmed when he looked at her with that passionate gaze that made her knees shake. In a moment of weakness (some would say loneliness), she caved, storming into his chambers. It was the middle of the night, the air chilly as she pulled the robe closer to her body. Perhaps she should have made herself more appeasing, but she hadn’t cared. 

She stood by his fireplace, pacing back and forth as she waited for him to return. Her mind started to wonder, where was he at this late hour? She couldn’t blame him, many husbands strayed from their wives.

“Y/N?” 

She straightened her posture, facing him hesitantly. “Gwayne.” 

“Is everything alright? Are you-” He paused, his eyes taking in her figure. “Did you walk through the tower like this?” 

“I-” She smiled weakly. “It was merely from my chambers to yours. I- I made certain no one…” Her voice grew quieter as he walked closer. “Saw me.” He said nothing, and her resolve began to crumble. “I know this is unexpected, but please. Say something- anything would-”

“You look… ravishing.” He swallowed, eyes trained on her. “What have I done to deserve this beauty before me?” 

She gulped, trying to ignore the way her heart skipped. “I thought I would apologize. For my absence as of late.” 

“Ah.” He nodded, inches away from her. “While I can admit I’ve missed your presence, there is nothing to apologize for.” He looked over her figure once more, lazily draping an arm over her waist. “Have I told you you look ravishing?” 

She nodded, crossing her arms. “Yes, you have. I have not barged into your room to be made a fool.” 

“You have not made yourself a fool.” He pulled her closer, a gasp leaving her lips. “I am the fool.”

“How are you-” He lunged down, pulling her lips to his. 

“I now realize that I have not made you aware of how beautiful you are.” He shook his head, walking them toward the bed. “Allow me to show you.”

“Gwayne! What-” He threw her on the bed, hovering over her. 

“You are as radiant as the sun.” He pulled the ties of her robe slowly, heart hammering at the mere thought of her. “You are-” 

“Wait.” She stopped, sitting up. “Can I-” 

He nodded. “Have I-” 

She climbed his waist, straddling him in an instant. Her hand found her way to his cheek, caressing it softly as she whispered. “I wanted to say that I- I find myself wanting you too.” 

He grinned, pulling her close. “I’m glad.�� Her robe barely hid her figure, with both shoulders fallen and the rest being held up by sheer will. She leaned her forehead against his, pulling at the robe until it gave way. “You-” 

Her cheeks were bright red, but she did not break eye contact with him, leaning in closer with each passing second. “Gwayne…” 

“Yes?” He whispered, their lips inches apart. 

“I know husbands stray… from their wives. But may you-” She leaned closer to his lips, whispering back. "May you pretend I am the only one?” 

His eyes widened, and he laughed. “Oh, my darling girl.” He kissed down her neck, around her face, everywhere, smiling as she giggled from his affection. “You will always be the only one. Trust me.”

Her heart skipped. "I do."

"Good." He grinned, leaning forward. "Good."

The sun peeked through the curtains, streaming over the couple. Their legs were tangled together, their arms haphazardly thrown over the other, dead to the world. 

Or rather, Gwayne was dead to the world. Y/N watched her husband sleep, staring at his beautiful face, trying to commit it to memory. His freckles were light, but very much visible this close. She reached up, gently pushing his hair out of his eyes. Kissing his forehead gently, she rolled over so she could begin her day. 

Gwayne's arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her back into his chest. “And just where are you off to?” 

She laughed, turning in his arms to face him once more. “You’re awake.” 

He nuzzled his face into the pillow, groaning. “I must say, I’m quite surprised you are.” 

She scoffed, hitting his chest indignantly. “What is that supposed to mean?” 

He looked up, smirking. “You were asleep before I could-” 

She slapped a hand over his mouth. “You are much too bold this morning, ser.” 

“Ser?” He raised an eyebrow, pulling her with him as he rolled over, causing a symphony of laughter to leave her. “I beg you, do not ever call me ser again.” 

“If you insist.” She giggled, kissing his neck gently. “My lord.” 

He hummed, closing his eyes. “You are glowing, did you know?” 

“That would be the morning sun, my dear.” Y/N smirked. 

He shook his head, his face serious. “You are always glowing.” A hand caressed her cheek, resting on her jaw as he stared. “As beautiful as the summer breeze.” 

“Gwayne…” She knew her cheeks were bright red. “You flatter me.” 

“No.” He shook his head. “It is the truth.” Looming over her now, he kissed down her neck. “Say it.” 

“Say what?” She whispered. 

“Say you are beautiful and I shall stop.” 

“But…” She gasped as he pulled the sheet down to reveal her figure. “What if I do not want you to stop?” 

“Well then…” Gwayne smirked. “We are at a stand still.” 

She shook her head, pulling him toward her. “No, we are not.”

He grinned. “Then say it.” 

“I-” She gulped, pulling at the hair at the nape of his neck as he trailed down her frame once more. “I’m beautiful.”  

Kings Landing felt different, she had told herself while they walked into her mother’s birthday dinner. Perhaps it was the fact that she was walking through her childhood home with her husband, but she felt confident, prideful even. It was a small, intimate gathering, with only her and Gwayne’s family present. 

And by Gwayne’s family, she meant his sister. 

The seating arrangements could not have been more unfortunate, with Y/N sitting opposite of her despicable uncle. 

“I must say…” Aegon whispered. “It is so nice to see you returned a woman grown.” He leaned forward, smirking. “Perhaps later…” 

Y/N scowled. “I dare you to finish that sentence.” 

Rhaenyra smiled, standing up and addressing her family. “It warms my heart to have my family gathered for this celebration.” She looked over at her daughter, eyes watering ever so slightly. “Thankfully, my firstborn, my heir, was also able to be in attendance.” She raised her glass. “I’m glad you were able to join us. It has been too long, my darling.” 

Y/N laughed. “It has hardly been five moons since my departure, Mother.” 

“Yes, well…” Rhaenyra sat down, looking over at Gwayne. “How does my daughter fare in Oldtown?” 

“Wonderfully, Your Majesty.” He looked down at his wife, smiling brightly. “She is the perfect Lady Hightower, I must say.” 

Y/N raised an eyebrow, smacking his arm playfully. “You flatter me, Husband.” 

“I am merely telling the truth.” Gwayne laughed. “I dare say we have not had such a Lady since my dear mother.” 

Alicent’s face dropped, and Y/N smacked his arm harder. “Gwayne…” 

Aegon leaned across the table, sneering at his Uncle. “I must say, I’m quite surprised to see you so inexplicably happy. I’ve heard she can be quite the-” 

Jace slammed his fist on the table, silencing the room. “Watch your mouth.” 

The platinum blonde sat back, raising his hands up in surrender. “I’m merely enlightening my Uncle, Jace.” 

“Why don’t you-” 

“It is quite alright, Jace.” Y/N hissed, smiling lightly. “It was a jest.” Gwayne grabbed her hand under the table, caressing the back gently.

Aegon looked unsatisfied. “All I meant to say is that I’m quite surprised you have found love in such a short time.” He looked over at Gwayne, wiggling his eyebrows. “Is she rather-”  

It was now Y/N’s turn to slam her fist on the table. Standing up, she glared at her Uncle, grasping Gwayne’s hand tightly. “I am sorry, Uncle, that you do not know what it is to respect your spouse. I am also sorry that you wouldn’t know love if it stood right in front of you.” She gulped, realizing the entirety of her family was now staring at her. “My husband is a good man, unlike the tales I have heard of you and my poor Aunt. Gwayne is kind and caring and-” She huffed. “I have never loved someone more. I pity you, I really do. Never knowing what true unconditional love feels like because you deny yourself every chance of happiness.” Sitting back down quickly, she grabbed her wine, taking a large drink. Her mother stared, a hand over her mouth that Y/N could only assume was holding back laughter. Her brothers looked shocked, shocked that she was so defensive over a man she hardly knew. 

But she did know him, and he knew her much better than anyone. The chatter started up soon after, but she was frozen in her seat, refusing to see her husband’s reaction. She had never- 

She looked up, jumping when she met his eyes immediately. “I’m sorry if I-” 

Gwayne stood up, grabbing her hand. “Follow me.” 

“Gwayne.” She hissed, “They’re staring-” He walked out of the room, refusing to acknowledge the prying eyes of their family. “Gwayne, I’m sorry if I upset you. I just- I couldn't take it anymore. He drives me-”

Pulling her into their shared chambers, he slammed the door behind him. She walked out of his hold, hugging herself as she watched him stare at her. “Say something, please. I truly am… I am sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed.” 

He stalked forward, grabbing her face and pulling her to him. Her eyes widened, knees weakening at the passion that exuded from his kiss. They stayed latched to each other for what seemed like minutes, ignoring the world around them. 

“You are an angel, I am convinced.” 

Y/N laughed. “I love you.” 

Gwayne grinned, kissing her quickly. “I love you much more, my love.” 

She shook her head, basking in his affection. “I do not think that is possible.” 

He groaned, laying his head on her shoulder. “Must we go back to dinner?” 

She nodded, raking her fingers through his hair. “I’m afraid so.” 

He shook his head. “Your mother will have to forgive me.” 

She laughed. “For what, my love?” 

He wrapped his arms around her waist, throwing her over his shoulder. “I must spend time with my lovely wife at this very moment, or I shall combust.” 

Y/N giggled, smacking his back. “Gwayne!” 

He threw her on the bed, laughing at her flushed cheeks. “You are simply divine.” Crawling up to her lips like a lion to its prey, he practically growled. “I could stare at you for hours.” 

Y/N smirked, wrapping her arms around his neck as she whispered. “Perhaps you could show me how divine I am instead.”

“I believe, dear wife…” He pulled the string at the front of her dress, removing her dress. “That can be arranged.” 

taglist: @beebeechaos @i-padfootblack-things

[pedrospatch]

i’ve been staring at this reblog trying to come up with something to say that will properly express how much i appreciate you for this - and just you in general - but i genuinely cannot. there aren’t enough words in the english language to express how much this means to me and not just this, but your constant love, support, and kindness towards me and my writing. it means the absolute world to me 🥹 i genuinely cannot wait to read each individual reblog, i’m so excited to hear ALL your thoughts about joel and little dove and their story.

i love you to the moon and back! <33

fall into temptation l masterlist

Jackson! Joel Miller x Preacher’s Daughter Reader

summary: Of all the women to catch Joel Miller’s attention—it just had to be one of the goddamned preacher’s daughters.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. (TW) RELIGION, RELIGIOUS THEMES. AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is 56). reader has a father, reader has two older sisters. READER HAS A COUPLE OF PHYSICAL DESCRIPTIONS such as her hair, which she is able to braid as well as her style of clothing she wears. please see individual chapters for full warnings and tags.

part one

part two

part three

[mythalism]

more me verbally processing my feelings on this game and it's story that i sent in discord but i know reading these things can be helpful to others processing so im sharing them here <3

even though i think i personally am able to find coherent meaning in solas's ending, specifically the status of the veil, and i do think its good and i like it, i really have to work to do it. the way its written is kind of confusing because the message is like ok. let go of your regrets. but you also have to atone for your mistakes. but solas believes he is atoning by taking the veil back down and bringing immortality back and making sure more spirits are not turned into demons? but the story tells us that version of atonement is Wrong, but why is it wrong? because people will die? but people also die because of the veil? mages are mass incarcerated and lobotimized bc of the veil, elves have been enslaved for millenia, PEOPLE AGE AND DIE, BECAUSE OF THE VEIL? so he isnt supposed to atone for that mistake by fixing it he's just supposed to accept it and let go? so are we supposed to atone for our mistakes or not? what determines whether or not we need to atone? he has to atone for what he did to the titans but not what he did by accident to his own people i guess? and he is going to atone by maintaining the status quo that he created because people have gotten used to it?

i think the answer based on the regret prison scene with rook escaping with varric's help and that banger line of varric's is to take accountability and own up to your choices, they are yours and no one can take them from you. rook says something to one of the regret statues (for me it was harding) thats like "i made a choice and so did you and you knew the risks" or something so i think that is the key. solas cannot accept his choices and so he is desperate to undo them no matter what kind of harm it may do. he is trapped in regret and the past to the point that he cant accept them and move forward, and varric is the perfect contrast of this with how readily he accepts his death as a consequence of his love and hope for his friend. even mythal accepts her own choices when she tells solas that she turned him from his purpose. and she doesnt apologize or even express regret at all, partly because shes a crazy bitch (affectionate) but partly because i think her quiet, cold acceptance is part of the lesson solas needs to learn in that moment. solas is constantly saying, "im sorry, but", "ir abelas, vhenan, but i cannot". mythal just states her actions plainly; i forced you to take a body, i brought you into war, these burdens are ours to bear together, i release you. no apology, no rumination, she is at peace with her decision even though it is wrong. i think this works wonderfully on a personal individual level of personal regrets. it is a good lesson; regret does not serve any purpose other than to hurt you. it brings no one back, it helps nothing, it does not make the world a better place. solas has to let go of his regrets so that he can become the hero that varric sees deep down in him. it is an essential part of his personal journey as a character... but it gets stickier when we are talking about systemic change. obvi a lot of dragon age's modern, young audience is very much in favor of "tear it all down!!" and i am too but i think with solas they are trying to tell a very personal and individual story of a man and his regrets rather than make a social commentary on radical change, but they also dont make that clear enough, so the two get muddied together when it comes to the question of the veil in a way that feels like they are advocating for maintaining the status quo, which i dont think was their intention.

i think this is so muddied because inquisition very much makes clear commentary on systems and institutions with the chantry, the orlesian empire, ferelden monarchy, mages and templars, and the inquisition itself being all vulnerable to corruption, and solas has a lot to say about all of this and he is very much presented as being right (like when he tells you about the corruption in your own ranks in trespasser and how hes spying on you lol) and then veilguard does not do this AT ALL, all of the issues are very personal ones of people and their identity, people and their family, people and their regrets etc. so i think a lot of us are in this mindset from inquisition of like.... yeah disrupt the status quo install a puppetmaster elf to rule an imperialist empire, make leliana pope and radicalize the chantry even if its bloody, dissolve the inquisition, abolish the circles etc. etc. and the question of the veil is very much an extension of these philosophical questions about systems and organizations. and for those of us who leaned towards dissolution of all of those corrupt structures, dissolution of the veil is the logical conclusion to a story thats sending us that message. but then veilguard just. does not even engage with these topics at all. like its not even a question. it takes the question of the veil and translates it into a personal issue of solas's psyche (which is super interesting, just different) and connects it to his past actions, his relationship with mythal, and his perception of himself, rather than a macro-level question of what is best for the world when pursuing change, and the answer for solas on a personal level ends up being different from the answer that inquisition was asking us, but it feels disjointed as a result.

so the veil staying up was the right decision because it forced solas to let go of his regrets and the game is about him. so it was an exercise in his therapy session with his two ex-gfs and some annoying kid who wont leave him alone. but the problem is it doesn't answer or engage with the greater questions and themes about systemic change that the series has been building up to.

veilguard is interesting because it wants to be dragon age 2 so bad while simultaneously being terrified of dragon age 2. solas bringing down the veil would have been the answer to the question that anders blowing up the chantry asked, but veilguard decided to ask a completely different question instead. and i think it did a good job in that specific goal, but it doesnt satisfy 15 years of build up and instead just throws it out the window in favor of something else.

[thefallennightmare]

Oh JP, where do I begin?

One year ago my life changed when I posted the first chapter to a story I had no idea would explode the way it did. What started off as a request( 🎧I hope you're still around), turned into a whole universe. It brought me SO many amazing friends, some of whom I've lost and that's okay. Because that's life and we live and learn.

There were some bumps in the road with JP and some long hiatus in between chapters while I was dealing with some personal issues but most of you stayed. You stuck by my side through that one shift in JP and that means the absolute world to me.

I know I tease a lot of bullshit with this story and I pulled an inception with Dreamstate, throwing everyone off with Chapter 28 and 29. But I'm not going to lie, it's lowkey fun creating chaos. The group chat don't call me Khaos Queen for nothing.

JP has opened my eyes with so many different ways of writing/planning to create universes. I've worked extremely hard to build it and I will cherish this universe for the rest of my life.

I love you all so much. Thank you for your endless support and theories on this silly little story. I cannot express how much you all mean to me.

Bad Omens changed my life just as much as this story has. Every time I listen to Just Pretend, I'm reminded of the love story I created because of that song. The last time I saw Just Pretend performed at Pointfest I had my own angel moment where I cried my eyes out, like full on sobbing, because this song changed my life. I don't care what anyone says, Just Pretend and JP are that bitch.

Let's all buckle up and enjoy the ride down the last two chapters of JP. We're about to go out with a bang!

Angel and Mochi forever. 🪽🍡

[siderealscribblings]

99 Years, 11 Months, 28 Days

"No! No, you didn't say she would be here!" Yae Miko hissed, hiding behind Neuvillette's shoulder as a young woman in brown who definitely hadn't been there before grinned at her. "I did not agree to come down here with that demon woman !" 

The demon woman in question was barely taller than Furina, a gangly creature who looked to be more hair and sharp grinning teeth than a person. The glint in her eye gave Neuvillette pause, as though it might suddenly leap out and spark a fire. On her fingers sparkled a few dozen rings studded with glowing golden lapis that clackled as she waved at Miko. 

"Hiiiiiiiiiiii there Miko~" Hu Tao said to the suddenly terrified kitsune. "What's it been, a hundred and twenty years?"

"Not long enough!" Miko hissed, ears and tail puffing up like an angry cat. "Not nearly long enough!"  

"Who… how did you get in here?!" Neuvillette demanded, glaring at Zhongli. "Did she come with you ?" 

"If you want to be pedantic, I came here with her ," Zhongli shrugged. "Traveling across the continent is no small feat without a psychopomp to ease the passage." 

"And I've been here the whole time," Hu Tao sighed. "You held the door for me ; looked right through me . But nobody ever pays attention to death until it's staring them right in the face." 

"Death?" Neuvillette echoed. "What do you mean death?" 

"Forgive me, this is Hu Tao…better known by her adeptus name as the Unbound Flame," Zhongli said, watching Neuvillette's expression darken. "I take it you are familiar with her office as a chief reaper of souls, mortal and divine?" 

This is the Unbound Flame?! Neuvillette thought. Since his run in with Rex Lapis a few years back, he had spent hours reading up on the Geo Archon's exploits over the years in case they ever tangled again. As death followed war, the Unbound Flame followed Rex Lapis, a capricious little trickster goddess credited with everything from the invention of poetry to the final defeat of Osial's wicked cultists. A formidable force…who Neuvillette expected to be taller or at least look older than a fresh-faced university student. Even after so many years with Furina, it was hard to believe that power could live in such small packages. 

"Anyone who has studied the Archon Wars knows about the Unbound Flame," Neuvillette said quietly. 

"Then you know that no one understands death better," Zhongli said. "And if there is a way to speak with the departed souls of these men, she knows it." 

"Normally I'd let the dead rest, but something tells me these poor fools aren't sleeping quietly just yet," Hu Tao said, leaning in to inspect the corpses closer. "Do you know how they died?" 

Neuvillette glanced at Zhongli who just nodded. "They complained of pain and the gardes that found them said they started swelling suddenly. Further examination reveals their organs all ruptured as they were suffused with a lethal amount of Hydro energy. How that Hydro energy got there, I cannot say. " 

"Aiya, that's a bad way to go," Hu Tao clucked, running her fingers over the dead men's necks with the practiced ease of the world's oldest undertaker. "Osial had water snakes that would swim in rivers and bite our soldiers during the Archon War. They puffed up like this…but it usually took them hours to die. And then there are these weird tattoos."

Hu Tao traced her finger along the slimy tattoo, wiping her fingers as Hydro clung to them. "If we're not dumb enough to send assassins with Milleleth feathers, Focalors isn't dumb enough to brand our soldiers with her sigil before killing them." 

"So what did?" Neuvillette demanded. "Do you have some way to speak with the dead?" 

"Oh she does ," Miko hissed. "She just loves pulling spirits out of the threshold between worlds to torture people for her sick pleasure!" 

"You know, for someone who likes to mess with people as much as you do, I thought you'd be able to take one little joke with a little more grace," Hu Tao clucked. 

"I was lost in the forest for three days convinced that I had fallen into a plane of the Abyss!" Miko snapped. "You chased me around disguised as a giant vishap and convinced the tanuki that I was their lost queen and needed to be kidnapped for my own safety!" 

"...like I said, one joke." 

"I don't mean to interrupt," Neuvillette said, though that was exactly what he meant. "But there is a small matter of national security we need to deal with." 

"Now that is a small matter," Hu Tao sighed. " National security always struck me as an oxymoron like jumbo shrimp or living dead. As soon as you secure the stupid thing, it goes and gets itself insecure all over again." 

"You don't say?" Neuvillette said, his limited social graces already stretched to their breaking point. "Can you speak with the spirits of these dead men or can't you ?" 

Read More...

Chapter 1

[neverniko101]

HOLY CHEESESTICKS over 40 entries in just two days!!! Thank you all so much!!!!!! Please check out all the submissions if you haven’t already, they’re really all gorgeous artwork :))))

Be sure to get entries posted before 9 am EST (about 16.5 hours from now) if you want to be in the first raffle and the first round of prizes!

Just clarifying some things:

- Any character and OC is welcome!!!! You don’t have to draw Curd unless you want to^^

- All art forms are welcome! Digital, 3D, pencil, paint, music, writing, whatever!!

- You can make as many submissions as you want, as long as you put love and effort into them^^

- I’m pretty sure this goes without saying, but no NSFW, hate content, tracing, etc.

- Bases and programs like Gatcha life are certainly allowed, but do not qualify you for prizes.

- Each submission will be entered into every raffle automatically as long as it was submitted before that raffle’s deadline!! Submissions will only not be entered if you tell me you don’t want them entered or if they’ve already won a raffle prize.

- There will be a maximum of 10 non-raffle prizes each week, too, decided by me!!! They will come in the form of silly little doodles :3

- I cannot express to you all how much this support means to me and everyone who sees your art. We are still fighting, and we can get through anything. We will persist <3

DTIYS/ART CHALLENGE

I don’t care if you think you’re “good” or “bad” at drawing

I don’t care where you’re from

I don’t care if you’re American or not

I don’t care what political party you identify with

If you support LGBTQ+ and disabled persons rights, please show your support!!!!!!! ONLY IF YOU CAN THO no stress

You may draw any character/oc with any kind of heart as long as you’re showing support!! All art forms welcome.

We are still here, and we will still keep fighting no matter what. You will persist <3

Please @ me and/or use the tag #persist<3 so I can see it, especially if you’re interested in the prizes!!

There will be prizes!! Info below the cut.

Submit over tumblr (this account), Discord (server in pinned post), or YouTube (CaramelCheesecakeArt or ProbablyNotNiko).

Raffles will be randomly selected from all submissions.

Raffle 1: November 9th

Winners: 3

Prize: headshot

Raffle 2: November 16th

Winners: 3

Prize: fullbody

Raffle 3: November 23rd

Winners: 5

Prize: animated headshot

Raffle 4: November 30th

Winners: 1

Prize: animation meme of your choice

Other prizes may be awarded by me for accomplishments such as “silliest” or “most gay,” rewards of which will typically be a headshot.

All prizes will be drawn by me of an oc or character of your choice!!

TAGS TIME

@bunningchaos @ph0enix-12 @catt6565 @infinitrix @snowdrop-wolf @songwolfwildblogs @astray-anomaly @voltaicfox @crazy-snake @orisretr0 @amary @askmistaketalesurgesans @notsoterribletyrant @astronomical-iyell @plippy28 @papiliovolens @icewavex @n3x0id @nghtmaredreamr @someverygaymoth @thevoidfairy @twinribbonz @googpuppy @granolora @arbie-right-back @corruptinmyself @sunnymainecoonx @marblez-art-studio @midnightstarshadow @miracle-negative @soul100 @cas-spirit @laizimoon @100percentevil I will add more but I am in school and have to go

[everybody-loves-purdy]

same Duskfur anon but now i want to talk about other cool things Duskfur did that proves she should've been a complete asshole: - Was willing to attack Jayfeather (a blind medicine cat) - Attacked Cloverfoot (Shadowclan deputy) - Mocked Scorchfur - Met with Berryheart - Mocked Tigerheartstar - Supported Frostpaw's exile to a degree (for mocking Tigerheartstar when he took her in) - Argued about Frostdawn training as a warrior - Argued about Icestar being temporary leader - Once again literally argued Mistystar to death and shown little to no remorse afterward - Argued about Harelight being Frostpaw's mentor - "I'm not convinced the living world needed saving." Just wanted to include that quote from her Also Duskfur is just interesting to me as a character. Her kits have no listed father, so I like to interpret it as the father being a rogue. ik a lot of fan interpretation is Reedwhisker being the father, sorry lol. but a rogue is just more interesting to me. It also makes more sense to me. Podlight has white on him, and is shown to be at least partially a point. Neither Duskfur nor Reedwhisker have a hint of white or is a point (Reedwhisker is described as a black tom). ik warriors doesn't follow irl cat genetics, but Duskfur has unknown parents, so my headcanon is that recessive point runs in the bloodline, and that Duskfur is just a tabby masking point (having the colorpoint gene but not expressing it, thus being a tabby instead) from her parents, and the recessive gene passed to Podlight who expressed it bc the rogue was a colorpoint. how Frostdawn is a colorpoint despite neither Curlfeather nor Jayclaw being described as colorpoints is beyond me. Mistpaw being a tortoiseshell could be explained if the Curlfeather's father was a point w/ white (which is rare but possible), and Jayclaw's side of the family--cutting myself off here before i get completely off topic I would say a kittypet could've been the father, but Duskfur seems to like Leopardstar, who was aligned with Tigerstar I. Obviously that's not saying much in these books, but if Erin Hunter authors were better writers, she'd most likely have some sort of prejudice. Also, despite Tigerheartstar fighting with her, he appointed her as temporary leader. I think it was Finchlight or Sunbeam who said that he liked her for some reason. Literally how?? Did they have a conversation off-screen? This also leads into Duskfur being robbed of deputyship in Star, since she, along with Icestar, were chosen as temporary leaders at one point. hell, I'm pretty sure Jayfeather mentioned at some point that Duskfur was doing Mistystar's job for her, which makes sense imo. she never seemed inclined for leadership, but she also seemed to never turn down the chance when it was offered. I know she's old and everyone and their mother wants a young leader, but I just want someone in power who's an asshole, young or not. I don't think we had a decent one since Leopardstar and debatably Blackstar. Everyone else since then has been "nice" (broad spectrum; Tigerheartstar can be considered nice despite being a bit of a problem) if they weren't antagonists. i want someone who will cause issues because they were mildly inconvenienced, and mean Duskfur would've 100% did that considering she mocked Scorchfur for choking on a mouse (or something similar). Frostpaw also seemed to value Duskfur's opinion to a degree. iirc Duskfur was one of the cats Frostpaw wondered about in regards to Owlnose being accepted as temporary leader. I cannot say the same for Star bc I haven't read it yet (I only read spoilers), but it seems even nice Duskfur in the prologue on the website STILL argues with Frostpaw, even if she's more subdued about it. i could talk more about Duskfur in general (and Riverclan cats actually) but i feel like this ask is getting too long but if i could pretty please send more Duskfur/Riverclan asks that'd be lovely :D also sorry for the tangents lol

This is great stuff, some really good analysis about her!

Erin Hunter please read this and respond and give us mean Duskfur again from now on thank you

Also about an asshole leader I can 100% see Crowfeather being an asshole if he ever makes it that far

[rennsdeaddoves]

I RUSHED TO MAKE THIS WHEN I SAW THE REF SHEET

*renn's edit; I'M GOING TO CRY!!!!! I AM IN THE MIDDLE OF CLASS OMGGGGGGG THIS ACTUALLY BROUGHT TEARS TO MY EYES SHE SO PRETTYYYYYYYYYYYY

jay you out did yoursellllf *

[crystalcircus]

I JUST GOT THE FIRST BIRTHDAY CARD WITH MY NEW NAME ON IT AAAAHSHAHDSKCJDJFJDJFJDNFNDC

I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS IS ACTUALLY HAPPENING I AM SHAKINGGFGGGFFHXJCJDNCD

AAAAAAAAA

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Firstly, I need to tell you that I have tried to reply to this comment 12 times and each time I keep getting just so excited with happy emotions and then forgetting how to form coherent sentences.

I cannot thank you enough or express how much joy this has brought me!

It's evident how much Abel adores every honest answer & well-reasoned step taken to minimize his power over this mortal. He seems positively delighted by it all. <- YES!!!!!!

So he knows that either he will seek them out or they will seek him out. Which means he knows something that he isn't sharing with the class, as it were. <- this is literally my face right now:

I can't ignore the possibility that his language switch at the peak was harmless & coincidental, he is fae. <- !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It's probably my own love of breeding kink, but I suspect he might have been doing fae tomfoolery to ensure that his seed stuck. <- EEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Maybe I just need to find some fae breeding kink to satiate this craving. <- 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

I LOVE YOU!

Turn My Lead Into Gold

Abel Morales x afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • Kinktober 2024 Masterlist • Day 30: Afternoon Delight

Summary: Your friend is on their deathbed, so you turn to an unlikely source for help.

A/N: Thank you to @thexsanctuaryx for beta reading, she is the MVP here <3

Warnings: fairy!Abel, dubcon because this is a deal, but reader is into it, kissing, p in v sex, cream pie, reader has a friend who is very ill, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 1454

He smiles at you dressed in a sharp suit and soft camel wool coat. The late afternoon sunshine filters through the trees, the sun close to setting. 

He wasn’t what you’d expected. 

“You can call me Abel.” He says politely and offers you his hand.

You swallow and shake it. But say nothing.

He laughs, “Not going to give me a name?” 

“You can call me whatever you want.” You say softly. 

“Very good, very good.” He strokes his thumb over the back of your hand. “I won’t beat around the bush, you know what I am, and I know why you’re here. You want a deal.”

You nod. 

“What for?” 

“My friend… they’re ill, things… things don’t look good.” You try not to let the tears well up in your eyes. 

Abel nods. “They’re close to their end in this realm.” 

You nod again, trying not to get caught up in how he moves, in how painfully beautiful he is.

“And you don’t want them to be.” He strokes his neck, still keeping a hold of your hand. “I’m quite impressed, most mortals have either given up asking us for favours or they have forgotten how to.”

“A deal,” you repeat, stressing the word. “Not a favour.” No way you were going to be in a fae’s debt. 

He smiles again, “A deal. You’re quite right. Well… You want me to cure them, completely?” 

“Yes.” 

“What makes you think I can?” He asks, almost sing song. 

“I…” You swallow, “In my research you’re…”

“I’m?” He practically purrs.

“Your sigil… denotes someone with great power.” 

“And you thought,” he lets go of your hand to walk around you, “what a good idea to summon someone with the power over life and death?” He stops behind you, placing his hands on your shoulders and you manage not to jump. 

“I invited you, I didn’t summon you.” You say quietly, somehow keeping your voice even. 

Abel leans close, his lips at your ear. “And I came… Why do you think that is?” 

You pause, clenching your hands into fists to stop them from shaking. “Boredom?”

He laughs again, but this sound is kind. “Intrigue.” Slowly he moves around to face you again. He looks over you slowly, “Most want power. In the end, it’s all for selfish reasons.” 

He cocks his head to the side when you don’t object. “Aren’t you going to tell me saving your friend’s life is noble? That you’re on the path of righteousness?” 

You shake your head. “They are my friend and I love them, I don’t want them to suffer, and I don’t want them to die. It’s selfish. I don’t want to be without them.” You screw up your eyes and swallow down the thickness in your throat. 

Abel pauses and then lightly touches your cheek. His fingers are warm despite the cool autumn air. “Sit.” He gestures to the leaf covered ground. 

You kneel slowly and he follows, smiling softly. 

“Lay back.” 

“I…” 

“You wanted a deal, did you not?” He raises an eyebrow at you. “For me to save your friend’s life?” 

“What is… what do you want in return?” 

“Nothing that will harm you to give, or enchant you, you have my word.” 

You pause, your heart hammering in your chest. 

“Do you not trust me?” He teases, lightly touching your cheek again as he inches closer. 

You know you can’t say anything but yes, all other options would be insulting and leave you at best, alone with no deal. 

“Yes.” You say softly and he smiles. 

Slowly he leans forward and presses his lips to yours, soft and sweet. You gasp, not expecting the kiss. And in the time it takes you to breathe in, the world shifts, gravity flipping as you’re gently pulled by a force you can’t see flat onto your back. 

Abel follows you, delighting in the shock that plays out on your face, his body covering yours. He slips between your legs, kissing you lightly as he settles.

The leaves underneath you are soft, warm. Slowly rising and falling as if the forest floor was alive and breathing. 

“Let me make love to you.” He whispers softly in your ear, “In exchange your friend will fully recover.” 

“Why?” You can’t stop the word from falling out of your mouth, but to your relief, he chuckles.

“You may ask me that the next time we meet.” 

“The next time?” 

“Ah, mortals, so full of questions,” he teases, “do you agree to the deal or not?” 

You nod softly. “I agree.” 

“Good mortal,” he whispers, drawing out the word and then grins when you frown, “what? You said for me to call you whatever I wanted.” 

You bite back the sharp comment you want to throw at him. Even if he wasn’t a fae, something about the cheeky smile and soft eyes he gives you leaves you weak. 

There’s an odd sensation along the seams of your trousers, a pull and then snap as the treads undo and come loose seemingly of their own will. You flinch, but Abel chuckles again and soothes you with kisses to your jaw.

“Pay it no mind.” 

“I…”

He licks into your mouth hungrily, tasting of honey and sweet fruit, holding you tight under him as your clothing falls away. He slides one hand down to your hip, the only material now covering him is his warm coat. It drapes around you both, spilling out onto the forest floor. 

You barely have a second to feel his warm bare skin against yours before he’s notching his thick cock at your entrance and pushing in with a deep groan.

You gasp, tense, expecting pain from the suddenness and apparent size. But instead, there is only pleasure. It floods into your veins, burning along your skin and you writhe, bucking mindlessly as he slips deeper. 

He grunts happily, pressing lightly at your inner thigh to spread you wider. “Ah, I had forgotten what humans feel like.” He nips at your neck, grinning as your back arches. “And you feel divine.” 

Slowly he rocks inside of you, pushing that deep pleasure further and further into your body as you’re split open. You cry out, your body taking over your mind and catching the sensation. 

“That’s it, that’s it,” he groans, his eyes burning with glee as you move under him. “Feels so good, doesn’t it?” 

You whine and he sucks at your jaw, licks down your neck to your chest and sucks on your breasts. All while he keeps that deep, liquid pace. Like waves rolling into the shore, unrelenting as he pulls you apart slowly. 

“Please,” you hiccup, forgetting yourself for a moment. 

“Ah, they beg.” He mutters into your skin. “Do not worry, I won’t take advantage of your state.” He sucks a love bite into the side of your breast. “I would beg you, in turn, to say my name in that breathy voice of yours.”

“Abel,” you cry out without thinking and he moans, moving up quickly to capture your mouth with his. 

“Yes, yes, yes,” he whispers between harsh kisses. “Mine and mine alone. You’ll come for me, won’t you? Let me hear you when you release.” 

You whine, grabbing at his shoulders as he pushes on the back of your thighs, pressing them against your stomach. 

Your toes curl, your mind practically floating as he keeps moving, keeps pushing you higher and higher, seemingly never-ending. You run your hands through his soft hair, trying to pull him closer for another kiss, but he keeps himself tantalisingly out of reach, watching you with dark, desperate eyes as you contort in pleasure. 

You bite your lip, your thighs shaking, so close as the bud forms in your stomach, ready to bloom. 

Abel gasps, thrusting deep, his coat fluttering. You realise now, that it’s not a coat at all, but wings, gossamer gold and tan, they raise up, impossibly tall stretching out until they block out the canopy from your vision.

You sob as you come hard, the pleasure hitting and spreading across your veins like a curse, singing along every vein as you cry out into the forest. 

He moans deeply, speaking in a language you do not understand as he empties himself within, spilling and spilling until you are as full as you can be. 

Part of you expects him to disappear the second you start to come back to yourself, to leave you there sweaty and grimy on the forest floor. 

But instead, he nuzzles your cheek and kisses you lightly, his hands running down your ribs. He smiles at you as he tilts your chin up again and presses his lips to yours. 

Thank you for reading!

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @whatthefishh

@romanarose @strangerhands @saturn-rings-writes ho

@steven-grants-world  @eyelessfaces @angel-of-the-moons @minigirl87 @lunar-ghoulie

@silvernight-m @autismsupermusicalassassin @apesarecuul @reallyrallyauthor @basicalyrandom

@alwaysmicado @mangoslushcrush @marc-spectorr @spxctorsslxt @novarosewood 

@pygmi-cygni @hammerhead96 @emma23 @sub-aro @killerdollz

 @maplemind  @mwltwo @loonymagizoologist @dameronshandholder @queerly-anxious

@homuraak3mi @swiftiegirliepop @oscarssimp @milkypompon @eternallyvenus 

@mandytrekkie @lounilu @avengersinitiative2012 @pigeonmama @marcsb1tch 

@iolaussharpe-24 @chaithetics @DowBaStan @faretheeoscar@lonelyisamyw-0love 

@queerponc @twwcs @Spnwhore2430 @mari-thesimp @ominoose

@ierofrnkk @have-you-seen-my-sanity @to-be-a-sunshine @blushingrn @missdictatorme

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

[tatakaeeren]

I can't get these two scenes out of my head. His eyes and lips say everything without saying a word.

[shannonsketches]

I grabbed a bunch of caps for that last post so here's a few more in my favorite genre of bejíta

[heatherfield]

@giftober 2024 | Day 31: free choice

Our dear Horseman's tale is now at an end.

Headless: A Sleepy Hollow Story, Ep. 10 “The Haunting of the Hollow” - Oct. 31, 2022 [x]