#it's like. i can relate to almost every character

[plethorawrites]

I'm back to my once in a blue moon Roy post. And again, I can't stop thinking about how any person he dated HAS to be approved by Lian.

---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---_

It doesn't matter how much Roy Harper likes you or how perfect he thinks you are, if Lian doesn't like one of his partners, he'll break up with that person the next day.

He obviously waits a while to see if he even likes you enough to introduce you to her, but once he makes that decision, it's nerve wracking. He wants her to approve. He really does. And you want her too as well. He drones on about her constantly. Basically the entire first date was him relating every question you asked him back to her somehow.

Favorite place to go? The zoo, because Lian loves it. Favorite food? Grilled cheese, because he makes it for her so much he got hooked. Favorite color? It changes when hers does because everything she owns switches shades too. But he's partial to the color closest to her eyes.

And you're just as excited and nervous to meet her, knowing exactly how important she is to him. Lian is a good judge of character, she can know instantly if someone is wrong for her dad and she doesn't want them around him.

With you, it's the same as all the others. She's standoffish, curious but hesitant, asking you questions that only seem to have bad answers the way all kids somehow manage to do. And you're panicking, admittedly, not only at the questions, but at seeing Roy slowly deflate when he realizes how judgmental his daughter is.

At some point he excuses himself from the room for a moment, either to take a call, or try to take a breath because he's suddenly thinking about ending the relationship. But the second he walks away and both you and Lian can see the disappointment in posture, you both soften. Mostly her.

"...He works a lot," she told you, almost like a deterrent.

You nodded softly. "I know."

There was a pause, her princess crown falling a little bit. "Things with mom didn't end well," she mumbled.

You fixed her crown. "I know that, too." Tucking a piece of hair behind her ear you scooted closer to her on the couch. "I don't want to replace your mom, Lian. I just...want to love your dad."

She looked up at you. No one he brought home ever said the L word before. Not unless it was in some patronizing way as they talked about her while squishing her cheeks.

Her lips quirked, fighting a pout. "He's always busy," she repeated with emphasis. "I don't even see him for a week or two." She knew why, of course, and never blamed him. It still hurt.

Things suddenly clicked for you, realizing Lian was less worried about you, and more worried about you stealing her time with him.

"Well...maybe when he's gone, you and I could go somewhere? Do you like the aquarium?" You suggested hesitantly, watching her furrow her brows in skepticism as she nodded. "And maybe when he's back, we could all do something too, like a movie..." She seemed to relax a little, still pouting. "I'm not trying to steal him from you. You're the most important thing in his life, you know? You'll always come first."

...

A while later, Roy had all but prepared his typical break up speech, planning to tell you he liked you a lot but needed to take care of Lian and her needs first before focusing on himself. It hurt more this time, though, rehearsing it, than it usually did.

He walked back into the living room, freezing when he saw you braiding Lian's hair, a blanket pulled over her lap as she clicked the buttons on a remote.

"Oh, there you are," you said, glancing up. "We were going to watch 'Brave', do you want to join us?"

He blinked a few times, glancing at his daughter to ensure she wasn't just pretending. Then again, she never went along with anything she didn't actually want to do.

Roy nodded slightly, sitting next to Lian, squishing her in-between you two as she found the movie on the TV.

"You should make us popcorn," she practically demanded, starting the movie and glancing back at you as you finished her hair. "He makes really good popcorn."

You nodded curiously, giving her a small smile. "You ever tried it with M&M's in it before?"

Her eyes widened, head snapping towards her dad as if already asking for it. "O-okay, yeah, I'll check if we have any," he muttered, standing up, sparing a glance over his shoulder as he saw you pulling a blanket over Lian's lap while she passed her favorite princess crown to you.

It seemed she did approve, this time.

[b-skarsgard]

Bill Skarsgård in King Magazine

Nosferatu-current Bill Skarsgård on anemic roles, Mongolian throat singing and comfortable clothes.

This interview is a publishing of an interview first released by Café on Dec 26, 2024

Full article and links under the cut.

(translated via google)

Do you still feel doubts before every acting role?

- Yes, it's a real wrestling match before every project and the wrestling match gets more aggressive the more extreme the character I play. This role, as Count Orlok in Nosferatu, is the most extreme I've done. It was a transformation into something so far beyond myself that I didn't know if I could handle it. I wasn't sure if I could go that far, let alone make it true. There were a lot of nerves and a lot of self-doubt. But I never feel it when we're filming.

I work hard during the preparations to be as free as possible when we're getting ready. Count Orlok is also a character who isn't insecure for a second throughout the entire film. He just oozes self-confidence, control and dominance.

The voice is very prominent in the role - how did you achieve it?

- I worked with an opera singer to get my voice as deep as possible. My brother Gustaf visited the filming and sat in one of the chairs in front of a monitor with headphones. Our microphones were on between takes and all he heard was a dark roar. (Bill leans back on the couch and imitates a monstrous half-singing.) I was sitting and doing some kind of Mongolian neck-swing to activate the voice and Gustaf said: "What the hell are they wearing and snoring here?" Haha.

- It was a pitch-black hole to dive into the psyche of this character.

He's an occult magician, a 350-year-old vampire - trying to get into his perspective on the world and the universe was quite dark.

Do roles tend to rub off on you?

- Yes. you spend twelve hours a day in some form of madness and illusion. In relation to this monster, it was impossible for it not to fade.

What stuck?

- Some things that are far too personal to tell, haha. I was very grateful when we finished the project and I had to leave it.

Then it felt like Orlok's claws finally released my soul.

Is that usually the case?

- After working on the role of Pennywise in It, I had very strange dreams that were about my relationship with the character and that it was me. There was something very revealing about that role. But with Orlok, it was different once we finished filming: When he left me, it was just ice cold, it was completely silent.

I am very grateful for that.

Acting is not said to be a successful recipe for personal happiness.

- I don't think acting is good for mental stability. That said, this is also what I'm going through, I'm going through the pain a little bit.

Got it.

- It might get better with age. As a young actor, it's more about life and death and you almost take a cold on yourself. I can look at my dad. who has a healthy attitude towards acting. I actually talked to him about this recently. He told me about his role in Godafton, Herr Wallenberg. It was a film where he almost took a cold on himself.

After that, he didn't film for two years, and when he returned, he found a healthier attitude towards work. At the same time, I don't know how many happy people I meet overall. Everyone has their own shit that they go through and we live in very strange times. It's confusing and messy in some ways.

You've become a father of toddlers yourself - when do you usually call your own dad about life's challenges these days: about family life or acting?

- He has eight children so there's a lot to learn from his fatherhood. haha. Things you should and shouldn't do. Then it's especially when we're a family where so many people have the same job, I never feel alone in that way. You have people who understand what you're going through.

You dress nicely and recently fronted a campaign for H&M - do you have an interest in fashion?

- I'm not someone who thinks of outfits for every day or goes looking for bargains in vintage stores. My expression is not clothes in that way.

But I think fashion is fun, and clothes can also be a tool like skadis to get into characters. My own style is not that "flashy". I just want to wear comfortable clothes and not have to think about it so much. But I am becoming more and more exposed to the fashion world and can see both the charm and the expression in it. You can be creative in many different ways.

Your fellow actor in Nosferatu - Willem Dafoe - has walked for Prada. Is that something you are keen on?

- I wouldn't mind, he has almost become the face of the whole brand. Prada did a show with Tim Roth, Adrien Brody, Gary Oldman, Willem Dafoe and all those cool actors.

It was cool, I think.

Today you are one of our biggest international actors - what is the strangest place where you have been recognised?

- I have probably been recognised on every continent I have been to.

Maybe not Asia, but I haven't been there for a long time, so it's very big in Japan as an actor. I started acting in Sweden and thought it was nice to leave the country and not be recognized. At that time, all I had to do was drive to Denmark and I was completely anonymous. I barely remember what it was like anymore. At the same time, it's part of the job.

I live in Södermalm and here the eyebrow lift when I pass by is quite nice. It's my South and I run into my childhood friends all the time, so I'm not anonymous, but I feel like Bill. •

[greenbubblefactory]

Matchup for @a-kind-pandemic-disaster

Congratulations you have a match with..

Idia Shroud !

★At first glance, you and Idia might seem like an odd pairing,him, a socially anxious shut-in with an aversion to anything remotely resembling human interaction, and you, a quiet but motherly presence who’s patient to a fault. But in reality? You two fit together almost too well, like characters in a slow-burn romance visual novel that he swears he totally hasn’t been imagining in his head.

★The first time he meets you, Idia is convinced you’re a background character from an eerie, gothic-themed otome game. Your aesthetic dark academia meets pastel goth completely captivates him, though he’s far too awkward to say so outright. Instead, he just stares a little too long before quickly hiding behind his tablet, sending Ortho out to do most of the talking while he tries to figure out how to interact with someone who looks that cool. He might even mumble something like, “Ugh, why does this feel like the setup to a tragic romance route? If this were an anime, I’d be doomed.”

★Despite his initial hesitance, Idia is drawn to your presence, partially because you’re not overly pushy and partially because he can sense that you, too, prefer quieter spaces. You don’t force him to step too far outside his comfort zone, and that alone makes you one of the safest people he’s ever met. And then there’s the moment he learns that you’re a writer. A horror and romance writer.

★At that point, Idia is both intrigued and horrified. On one hand, he’s deeply impressed,your ability to weave eerie, unsettling narratives is the kind of thing that could rival top-tier visual novel scripts. On the other hand, he’s paranoid.What if you write villains that are way too attractive? WHAT IF YOU BASE YOUR CHARACTERS ON REAL PEOPLE?? He panics for a full three hours before Ortho convinces him to just ask you about it like a normal person.

★When he finally works up the courage, Idia is surprised by how easily he can talk to you about horror. Despite being a total scaredy-cat when it comes to jumpscares, he’s the type who will stay up until 4 AM deep-diving into horror game lore, and now? Now he has someone to rant to about his theories. He even starts reading your work in secret, claiming he’s just skimming it, but then sending you random messages at 2 AM like:

★"Okay, so first of all, how dare you write such an insanely good plot twist? And second of all, if I have nightmares, you’re dealing with them."

★And then there’s gaming. Idia practically malfunctions when he finds out you love gaming as much as he does. He’s usually too anxious to play with people in real life, but with you? It’s different. You don’t judge him when he gets too competitive, you’re patient when he rambles about obscure mechanics, and you’re just as content as he is to spend hours co-op grinding. He low-key starts treating gaming sessions with you like dates, even though he’s too embarrassed to admit it. If you ever make a slideshow game specifically for him, that’s it. That’s the moment he realizes he’s completely and utterly doomed. He keeps every single one of them, even the goofy ones, and will occasionally replay them when he misses you.

★Idia also relates to your struggles in a way that most people wouldn’t. As someone who’s also neurodivergent, he understands the exhaustion that comes from masking, the way overworking can become a coping mechanism, and how easy it is to trust the wrong people. He tries not to be obvious about it, but he’ll start looking out for you in small ways reminding you to take breaks, hacking into NRC’s system to lighten your workload (not that he’d ever admit it), and casually “forgetting” to log off when he knows you’re up late with insomnia, just so you won’t feel alone.

★Your relationship is built on mutual understanding. He doesn’t force you to socialize more than you’re comfortable with, and you don’t pressure him to step too far outside his bubble. But at the same time, you help each other grow. You remind him that it’s okay to take small steps toward the outside world, and in return, he teaches you the beauty of existing in your own little space without guilt.

★And if anyone ever tries to take advantage of your kindness? Oh, they better be ready. Idia may not be the type to fight people outright, but he will ruin them digitally. He may not always know how to express his affection verbally, but his actions whether it’s tweaking an algorithm to make sure you never get bad gacha pulls or programming a custom AI to read you horror stories late at night speak volumes.

★To everyone else, he might just be NRC’s most reclusive, gaming-obsessed shut-in. But to you? He’s your favorite co-op partner, your biggest (secret) fan, and the one person who truly gets you.

★Idia is your chaotic, nerdy gremlin who understands your struggles and shows his love through digital devotion and quiet companionship.

English is not my first language so I'm sorry if there are any spelling mistakes!

[call-sign-shark]

Oh my god Lee, I wasn't expecting you!! I am so grateful, surprised but delighted about the fact I've managed to pull you into this twisted love story while you aren't into GoT/HoD. Thank you so much for reading about these two. I am squealing rn. To be fair, there are almost no GoT things except for the settings, it's all about their dark romance. Tell me if you'd like to be tagged on Hev/Amos related things. 🖤

Amos is terrifying in this. This is his worst version by far. I really love how you've picked up the premises of his passionate side under the thick layer of frost. The way he savors her name indeed foreshadows his upcoming obsession! 😈 It was also a little nod to the "I'll find you in every life, every universe, every time 'cause you're mine and I'm yours" trope I've created Amos from.

Aaaah you get it! Since this madness all started with fun and games, I didn't go into details and Heaven came off as this harmless, innocent creature who got corrupted and abused by Amos. This ain't the case. She might be young but she is our fierce and psychopathic Heaven! Of course she's afraid because of Amos' reputation, but she's willing to fight if she needs to. She just didn't expect to drown in a toxic, intense and all-consuming relationship aha.

Aerthurys is heartbreaking right? "You've managed to create a new world for these characters and yet they still feel true to canon in many ways." OMG THANK YOU THAT'S A HELL OF A COMPLIMENT. I'm trying so hard to keep them as close to PB as I can so it means the world!

Thank you again love. I'm proud to be the one who hooked you back: keep in mind that you'll be more than welcome if you join us 🖤

Summary: None of them wanted this marriage.

Words: 2.4k

TW: !MDNI! Please read the Masterlist's warning! The two are twisted. No proofreading, we die like me.

Victor and Lucilla Bolton belong to @mischievouslittlecreature. While Jared and James Stark belong to @justrainandcoffee.

Previous || Masterlist || Next

Today had been mortifyingly busy.

Lord Amos Bolton sat behind a heavy wooden desk, his ink-black eyes fixed on a parchment before him though he had stopped reading it for a while. His mind was elsewhere, not focusing on matters of lands, his tightening grip over the North, nor the twisted tortures he could inflict on his new prisoners. At this very moment, his mind was rather lost in the meanders of his own abyss. Absentmindedly, his eyes left the soporific report and lingered on the hand that was holding it — dried blood was still stuck under his nails despite having washed them.

He had said it to Lucilla once. A naked man has few secrets, a flayed one none. Pain unveils the truth.

A knock at the door snatched him from the depths of his mind, followed by aggressive growls. Amos sighed longly through his nose, his hand throwing the parchment on his desk to rest upon the massive black direwolf next to him. He gently scratched him behind the ear to hush his growls, “Enter.” His voice echoed in the dimly lit room in a cold hush.

Victor Bolton entered, carefully closing the dark wooden door behind him. Standing straight, he only sat when Amos invited him to do so with a brief gesture. He did not bow for that was not their way, but Victor’s pale eyes held respect for his nephew — the one who had shaped the name Bolton into something both feared and respected.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” his Uncle said at last.

Amos didn’t look up, rather observing the huge wolf he was petting. Judge, so was the name, was a fierce beast with black fur and piercing yellow eyes— a gift from Jared II. “I avoid many people,” He started with a quiet tone that sounded soft but whose sharpness was as cutting as a well-honed blade, “It’s quite an efficient way to rid myself of nuisances on a day like this.” Days when his patience wore dangerously thin.

Amos finally deigned to look at Victor, leaning back on his chair as his onyx eyes surveyed him, glinting under the glow of the fire near him, “Tell me, Uncle, do you bring news worth my time or have you simply decided that my evening is too peaceful and seek to remedy that?”

Victor smiled. Well, not a smile per se, for this was a muscle combination that seemed long forgotten by his body, but he rather offered something that resembled a faint grimace, “I'm afraid peace doesn’t suit you.”

Amos’ lips curved briefly however he soon returned to gloom again at the sight of his Uncle's face hardening.

“I have come to talk to you about wedding.”

At this, a flicker of irritation passed through the Lord’s black eyes. Here we go again...

“I thought such pestering was my mother’s duty. Have you taken it upon yourself as well?” The room seemed suddenly darker, more suffocating, as though resounding with the shift of his mood.

“You have refused every match brought before you for ten years,” Victor spoke carefully, full aware that today was not the day to anger the Lord of the Dreadfort, “You are thirty, Amos. A lord of your power should have taken a wife long ago.” He leaned forward a bit, his pale Bolton-typical eyes trying to fathom his nephew's mind, “You have built an empire of fear, extended your reach beyond what anyone thought possible… But all of this could be for nothing without an heir.”

Amos set his elbows on the desk, fingers steepled and his expression both freezing and impassive, save for his visible annoyance “I have given this House everything. Strength. Power. A name that no longer belongs in the shadow of the Starks but stands next to them. Is that not enough of a legacy?” His voice was unsettlingly calm — scarce were occasions when he needed to raise it.

“It might not be enough to last through the ages. Alliance with the Stark could be not sufficient in the future... ”

An alliance no one expected after decades of mutual hatred and betrayal. How Amos had managed to bond with the current Lord of Winterfell was a mystery. His brother-like relationship with the second born of the Stark too.

“Well, Orion might be better suited for the task,” Amos retorted, trying to get rid of the topic as quick as possible but his Uncle was having none of it.

“Your brother is still a boy and Orion… Orion is not you.” Victor paused, surveying his nephew’s reactions as though testing the waters with a feral wolf that could snap at any moment, “You need an heir. And a wife to bear you one.”

Silence stretched between them, sharing the space with tension. Amos had little interest in marriage, his devotion and time rather turned toward conquest. What pleasure and satisfaction could a wife offer that power could not? His heart — if he had one — was a fortress as impregnable as the Dreadfort itself. No man or woman had ever breached his walls, nor had any moved him enough to let them try. In all his darkness, Amos had the odd belief that only a love brutal and all-consuming—one that seized him at first sight— would ever be worthy of him.

And it didn't happen so far.

“And what match do you suggest? Some filthy hags from House Frey? Or a simpering high-born girl with a noble father, wide hips, and empty head?” The tall darkness raised a brow, his seductive lips now tainted with sarcasm.

Victor didn’t cower at the Lord’s venom but smiled instead, slow and knowing. Yes, he knew that what he was about to say would make him win whatever argument they were having, “What about the future queen?”

Another pause. The candlelight flickered and, for the first time, Amos remained still.

He did not speak.

Did not blink.

In fact, his coal-black eyes locked onto his Uncle with utmost surprise. Was he really talking about the Targaryen?

“Think about it, Amos. The North grows restless. Thanks to you and your surprising alliance with Jared Stark II, we have become something greater. Something to be deeply feared. The Queen Regent and her council aren’t blind, they saw your influence. As clearly as they can see the cracks forming between the throne and the North.”

He titled his head to the side slightly — Victor had gained his whole attention.

“Queen Pollyanna has a young daughter, one of the most splendid beauties Westeros had ever seen from what rumors say. A marriage with a high house from the North would ensure its loyalty to the Crown. As for you, if you wed the future queen, Amos…” Victor’s voice dropped, “You would not be the Lord of the Dreadfort only. You’d be king.”

A quiet chuckle escaped the lord’s mouth. The sound of it was incredibly soft, like a whisper carried by the wind, almost amused too, but there was something beneath it. Something… Darker.

“King.” Amos murmured again — the prospect of feeling the weight of a crown on his head and the warmth of a Targaryen beauty in his bed was indeed exhilarating he reckoned, “And...What’s her name?”

“Heavenerys Targaryen the First.”

The candlelight flickered once more, casting its light on Amos' enticing face, a smirk dawning on his lips.

“Heavenerys.” He said, tasting the little dragon’s name ...

And falling in love with how it sounded.

“Well, Uncle. It seems that Dreadfort will indeed have the marriage it seeks."

We have to talk.

Heavenerys knew that whatever would come next, she wouldn't like it. It was in her mother's traits. In the way her usually maternal expression had turned to stone, as though detaching herself was the only way to render pain bearable.

You are to wed Lord Amos Bolton.

The words that escaped Regent Queen Pollyanna's thin lips felt like a blade slicing through her throat, severing her head from her neck in one instant.

Sat stiff-backed on her bed, Heavenerys' hands were nervously fidgeting together as she glared at her mother with cold anger burning in her ice-fire eyes. The silence that had followed the news was suffocating, only disturbed by the crackling of the fire dancing in the hearth.

It was just a sentence. Seven words. How could seven words shape the rest of her life just like that? Without even asking what she thought about it, or how she felt?

Surprisingly, it wasn't her who shattered first but Aerthurys — as Pollyanna had expected.

"No." He snarled, jumping on his feet. The silver streaks of his ginger hair caught the firelight, shining as bright as his furious purple eyes. Already crushed by the weight of his violent temperament, he braced his hands on the vanity as if to keep himself from bouncing on his aunt and murdering her right on the spot, "No, she cannot — will not — marry that man!"

"Aerthurys..." The wise Regent queen said with a firm tone, even though she knew he wouldn't be stopped.

"Have you heard what he does?!" Aerthurys' voice cracked like a whip on the back of a slave, whistling through the air. He turned around, his eyes boring into the Princess' irises, "What he is?"

Heavenerys exhaled slowly through her nostrils, her heart hammering in her chest but she remained silent, well aware that speaking right now would be useless. Not when Aerthurys roared like a wounded dragon. Moreover, she still has to stomach the news and overcome the overwhelming buzzing in her skull.

"And what he is, by the Seven?" The Regent queen asked, coldly.

"Oh dear Aunt, don't you dare ask. The people of the North say they have heard screams of his prisoners echoing through the cold. Stories of men who were kept alive for weeks as he peeled their flesh from their bones. Stories of opponents fed to snarling hounds!" Aerthurys paced in the room as he spoke, his fist crashing against an expensive mahogany wardrobe. Both the queen and the Princess jumped at the noise.

"Amos Bolton makes sport of suffering. He's the type of monster that gets off on fucking torture and you would have her —" He gestured toward his tiny white-haired cousin with a shaky hand, "marry him?" The fury in his voice blended with raw despair.

Heavenerys kept her breathing steady and her expression composed.

She didn't wish to show her fear.

To give them a reason to pity her.

"Would y'all stop screaming?" She just said, visibly annoyed, but no one listened to her. Of course.

Pollyanna did not flinch at her nephew's outburst. The only thing she did was to watch him carefully, a detached coolness etched on her stern face: she had ruled long enough and murdered one husband, so emotions weren't something that would impede her decisions.

"The North is the North, Aerthurys. The Starks bend the knee but they do not like us. A rebellion has been simmering for years, waiting to explode. We have to secure ties with it, and House Bolton has risen out of control! Amos' influence is endless."

"So this is how you plan to buy their loyalty?" He scoffed, "By throwing Heavenerys to him?"

"I do not throw my daughter away! " She corrected firmly, purple eyes squinting, "I place her where her title of future queen of Westeros will be the safest."

Place her.

That was how royal families worked right? Your whole destiny is written when you take your first breath in this world. Heavenerys rolled her eyes — she had always known that this moment would come sooner or later, what she didn't expect was that she'd be sold to a stranger thirteen years older than her and with a cruel, terrific reputation.

"Safest? Then it should be me." Aerthurys clenched his jaw.

Another silence, louder than the previous shooting and breaking furniture.

"No." Pollyanna met his gaze with an unfathomable look, even though Heavenerys noticed a bit of pity in her violet irises. That simple refusal made Aerthurys' breath hitched, as though she had struck him, "We have all seen what inbreeding has done to our family. We have danced too close to the fire for too long. The madness, the sickness... It has to end now. I don't want my daughter to see her offspring deformed or sick in the head!"

"It is not fair." Aerthurys sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in a desperate attempt to calm his nerves.

"Oh, it's worse than that." A little amused voice raised in the chambers, gathering the attention of the queen, the princess and the rabid prince. Aedarya, Heavenerys' troublesome cousin, leaned slightly on the side with a little smirk. She had remained silent during the whole conversation, sat behind Heavenerys to braid her magnificent white mane. Her purple eyes gleamed with a wicked delight.

"They say he eats human flesh," she continued with a playful, almost singing voice, "That he bathes in the blood of his enemies after each battle." Her smirk slowly turned into a grin that crept on her lips. Teasing, she rested her chin on Heavenerys' bare shoulder and looked at her, "Perhaps he'll drink yours on your wedding night, cousin."

"How romantic." The white-haired princess commented, vaguely amused by Aedarya's propensity to pour oil on the fire.

If her joke had worked on Heavenerys, it hadn't been the case for Aerthurys: something cold had settled on his face.

"Fine, a wedding's nothing but a contract I guess."

The white dragon finally spoke and then, at last, smiled through the anger. A lesser woman might have screamed. Begged. But she just... smiled. If they had thought such news would break her they had chosen the wrong creature to chain. While resembling an angel and as petite as frail in stature, Heavenerys was no meek little princess. They whispered that the Cold had marked her at birth, cursing her with those eerie, burning, and glowing blue eyes. Mere superstition, maybe, but even her own mother could not deny that her daughter had something wicked. Heavenerys was distant, untouchable, emotionally shallow most of the time. Superstition... Perhaps, and yet Pollyanna had often wondered if the Cold had truly left its mark.

"Fear not. Give me one evening with Lord Amos Bolton and he'll be eating from my hand".

And if not he'll go feed Kairaxès. Eat or be Eaten.

The GoT Team: @darklydeliciousdesires @justrainandcoffee @peakyswritings @cillmequick @evita-shelby @lunarubra @shelbydelrey @theycametoconquertheearth53 @lightinbug

ask if you want to be removed or added to the taglist

also I can include your GoT OCs and will do it gladly, just ask.

[galactic-feelins]

Inkling Danny Phantom. Just cuz. No reason other than "I can"

Image taken March 15, 2024 and you can tell by now I don't have a consistent backdrop for photographing these notecard drawings!

[protagonist-art]

"Uh- I'm Arnold. Bennett. It's profoundly difficult to get your lifes works and studies accepted if your name isn't... yes, oh! Are you a fan of moths, sir?"

NEW RDR2 OC!! a reclusive, clumsy entomologist and bug collector; cooped up in his study of uniformed clutter

[leek-e]

My designs for the characters from We Object To Fear :) I love this show a lot and have watched it many times.

In order they are Matthew and his mum, Brian and Clark (prosecution), Alicia and Spencer (defence), and Xander and his unnamed friend (pre-trial).

[resonabilis-echo]

just finished disco elysium and [composure: godly success] ive never cried in my life

[dragmiire]

hey. would ur muse join ganondorf's cult.

[blueskittlesart]

In defense of the original, while I do agree the episodic vibes were a bit much at times, and it was something I kinda had to work my way through slowly rather than binging all in one...

I do kinda prefer the more gradual approach to laying out the information; getting to know both the setting and who Vash is as a person and the different facets of both, before getting the context that lets it all click into place. Plus the main quartet having ample time to grow together so that later developments have stronger emotional weight.

I will agree that Knives definitely suffered in focus, and I am interested in how Stampede handles him, but admittedly he wasn't really what I watched Trigun for in the first place. ^^;

yeah my gripe is less with the way the setting and characters were handled and more with the way the. actual plot was handled. it honest to god felt to me like they realized about halfway through their run that they didnt have enough episodes left to get the backstory in in a cohesive way so they just shoved it all into one episode and pretended that that explanation didn't create more questions than it answered. you spend 20 episodes teasing your audience like "ooooh what is vash?? clearly hes not human!! clearly there's something going on!!! don't you want to know whats going on?? keep watching and you'll totally understand whats going on!!" and then your big reveal is that. He Is Not Human. which is something that any idiot who has watched the last 20 episodes has already figured out. the question the audience ACTUALLY has at that point in the runtime is what, EXACTLY, is vash, and what the context is behind the conflict he and knives are in. the backstory episode explains that Knives Is Here, and it gives context to the setting and everything, but it pissed me off that it STILL didn't answer the actual mysteries i cared about, i.e. vash's real identity and the thing with the gun and his fucking arm and knives's motivations and everything. maybe that gets answered in the last episode that i neglected to watch but personally I prefer a story where i UNDERSTAND WHAT'S GOING ON by the time the final confrontation hits. with trigun it got to a point where vash was going out for the final battle with knives and i STILL didn't know who vash was, who knives was, where they came from, or what the hell their motivations were. that just made that final confrontation seem so wholly uninteresting to me that i didn't even feel like watching it. it was like "hey look vash is fighting a cardboard cutout that he is Afraid Of. Why? lmao idk man. probably has something to do with that weird spaceship that shows up in one whole episode before this point. not going to tell you how tho." I think some writers have this tendency to think that mystery = good writing and that not revealing anything to your audience will consistently draw them in for more, but that only works for so long. after 20 episodes of virtually net 0 information it got to feel like I was being strung along and like my questions were never going to be answered, so I gave up on the show in the final hour. Again, i'm not saying it was BAD necessarily and i understand the context in terms of writing and production that led to the show being produced that way but i think it really noticeably suffers due to the fact that it refuses to give the audience ANYTHING but crumbs of information for about 80% of it's runtime. that being said. i did genuinely like a lot of it. it has its moments. im not trying to discourage anyone from watching it or anything lol i just think stampede is a little more successful in keeping the viewer engaged in the story throughout by constantly feeding you bits of information and actually answering your questions as they become plot-relevant.

[katyspersonal]

I really feel like a Soulsb0rne protag is the only character I can actually be lol. Not the custom version, but the concept

- Strong sense of being guided by something / following it without question (I believe I told this story in a September, how finding star-shaped objects for me is equal to checking bonfires/cites of grace/etc)

- I am an absolute looser that was cast off the face of the world very, very long time ago and I am not supposed to be where I am right now considering everything that happened to me, I carried on because of the sense of something having 'called' me

- Everyone hostile towards me either keeps respawning or is ridiculously difficult to defeat, without help at least, but my friends tend to have the worst luck and be found broken for the reasons I have 0 control over..

- Identity difficulties; it feels like I am able to pick up literally any character as a kin or relate to every character, and yet not really be any of them for long enough. I've been trying to 'claim' a character for many years in many interests, but it feels like I am cursed with always being an OC, if not a self-insert xD (Similarly to how the protag can take armours, skills and weapons of any other NPCs but in the end they're not them)

- No matter how much experience I receive, none of this internalizes until I have a very long talk about it with a trusted friend (similarly to the level-up characters)

- I've met the person who already walked (and was broken by) the very same way I was only about to head towards.. When I've met him, I knew with my gut feeling that I was looking at my own future, even if I could not explain how it could be because of decage age and experience gap between us. And just like I felt, the very same harm that turned him That Way started to be inflicted on me. He gave me "This same thing happened to me years ago / this is why I no longer bother with [insert a demographic]" more times than I could count, and I to this day feel like there is no escape but to repeat his path and become just like him.. except my way is still not finished, and I have a chance to come out different and carry on the impossible way I guess? (Souls games tend to have a character that was on the same quest as the protag prior to game events, but it broke them. Vyke, Djura, Vеndrick....)

[mercurymacaroons]

woagh 2 posts in one day

[disposal-blueeee]

gay gay homosexual gay

[sandinmybed]

hmm

[stars-on-fyre]

So Sanji is my favorite character in One Piece

[arolesbianism]

Me sitting and watching any oni discussion waiting for an excuse to bring up a seed is planted all like 🤓👉👈