#relational healing my beloved

[guiltreservoir]

 as long as there is an ocean ✧ read on ao3

the abyssal plains of tommy's subconscious are littered with the carcasses of his father's favorite adages.

no matter how valiant his attempts have been to pry them free — and despite the meticulous, delicate nature of his methods — it seems that many of the sea-skeletons have been left sitting beyond salvation, now inextricable from waterlogged sediment. they're too far-sunk to extract safely; if lucky enough not to crumple like a sheet of discarded tissue paper on the journey down, he'd explode his lungs to red mist on the way back up to the surface. it's almost easier if he imagines them this way, as broken fragments of corpses too fragile to exhume:

the fleshy tissue of a half-eaten squid — actions speak louder than words. the crushed shell of an unfortunate lobster — beggars can't be choosers. the rotting remains of a clever eel — boys who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones. the ribcage and spine of a starved shark — do as i say, not as i do.

one saying in particular has been mummifying for longer than the others, a giant humpback frozen in a state of watery decay, embalmed in the sandy gunk of his darkest trenches — keep your shoulders straight and your head on straighter. oft punctuated with a caustic, kid.

it's pretty ironic, considering the fact that tommy kinard has nary a straight bone in his body. maybe that's why the line burrowed itself so thoroughly into the deepest, slimiest crooks of the substrate of his mind, slow-growing algae coating the slippery crevices of his hippocampus to rankle him perpetually. tommy hasn't spoken directly with his old man in years; these days he couldn't if he wanted to, or at least not without a ouija board and an uncharacteristic flair for masochism, neither of which he cares to equip himself with.

nevertheless, the phantom whale fall of his father's most-reliable phrase continues to nourish the last hungry, lonely fish left scouring the ocean floor of tommy's mind. nearly every move he makes is centered around practicality, every decision sewn together by threads of vigilance and observation.

with nearly four decades of practice and application under his belt, he's gotten good at keeping his shoulders straight, and gay as he may be, he thinks his head's on just fine, although such would be a contradictory and controversial statement upon the ears of one thomas kinard, senior. thankfully he'll never have to hear it.

tommy can live with his own amendment to the man's words because tommy knows himself and therefore knows the truth. his posture is excellent and he's a considerably level-headed guy. he can't be straight; he doesn't want to be. what he can be is pragmatic. he can be logical, he can be useful, he can be rational. he can be quite capable and, as it turns out, even likable. he can be funny, and charming, and vulnerable with the right people. he can be queer, he can be gay, he can be loved, he can love. he can become without becoming unmoored.

for thirty-some good years, tommy kinard does a bang-up job at keeps his shoulders straight and his head on just fine. he's pushing forty when he meets evan buckley and eddie diaz.

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evan buckley and eddie diaz exist as a singular entity within the confines of tommy's skull. two sides of the same coin, grumbles the detached jaw of an imaginary anglerfish.

it takes some effort to extract one from the other, but tommy finds ways. over mutual interests in muay thai, basketball, and helicopters, he and eddie become fast friends. over mutual interests in each other's inquisitive minds, curious hands, and wanting mouths, he and evan become even faster lovers.

he makes out with one of them, roughhouses with the other; it all feels the same, gets identical synapses firing. he knocks eddie to the mat, steals spit-flecked exhales off of the inches of air near his wild-grinning lips and brings them home for buck to drink down, licking them into his ravenous mouth, delivering him secrets to unwittingly swallow. he smelts himself down to the base and seeps in between them, liquid copper in the nickel sandwich of their clad coin.

it isn't until tommy's got both of them sprawled out on his couch one night, months into his increasingly complex relationships with each of them, that he truly starts to grasp how evan and eddie might exist as a singular entity outside of his skull, too.

top gun's ending credits march, sans serif ants, to the glowing edge of tommy's television screen. fuzzy, synthetic white-blue haze pours into the room and across the skin of buck and eddie's limbs and faces in a manner that makes tommy think of marble hewn painstakingly into handsome statue, of rock tumbled smooth by a patient, perpetual stream, ever-flowing towards the sea.

tommy thinks, i could be a sculptor. i could be a river.

copper in the nickel.

the two men are draped across his sectional like lions in the sun, impenitent and unabashed in the way they take up space, in the way they take up each other. buck's legs are long, stretched out along multiple cushions, his head heavy on tommy's lap. eddie, on the opposite end of the couch from tommy, started out the evening upright, but the drone of the movie — combined with tommy's easy laughter and the literal and figurative warmth pouring off of buck — had helped to coax a more relaxed posture out of him. now he slouches deep into the pillows, legs spread wide to knock up against buck's bare feet where his sweatshorts ride up his quads. tommy almost expects the point of contact between the pair of them to spark, start a blaze that would surely incinerate the three of them in spite of their résumés.

his heart's been a tinderbox for long enough that he can usually recognize flint even when it's disguised as water; the thirst that parches him convinces him it's worth attempting a sip without regard of probable risk.

he lets out a long exhale and drops a hand to card through evan's hair, half-listens to eddie babble on about how the shots of the F14 fighter jets are still so cool all these years later. he's beaming like a kid the whole time, sunshine-ray of a smile gleaming straight at buck.

tommy watches as buck can't help but smile right back, and god, if the energy radiating off of them could be harnessed for physical usage, tommy would never have a utility bill again in his life. he watches, enraptured, as buck flexes and curls his toes against the soft dark hairs of eddie's thigh, pressing dents into his skin. watches as eddie presses back.

eddie falters in his warplane musings when buck's foot skids over and catches in the edge of his shorts.

buck says, "sorry," not convincingly.

eddie clears his throat and drags his gaze from the arch of buck's foot resting against his leg up buck's calf, to his knee, to where the exposed pale of his thigh disappears behind them hem of his shorts. he takes his time wandering up the rest of buck's body, lingering especially at the relaxed curve of his dick under loose cotton fabric, the relaxed curve of his gently parted lips. finally he meets buck's answering stare and blinks, languid, like he's searing something into his memory, buck-shaped sunspots in his retinas. he says, "no big deal," not convincingly.

before tommy's eyes, water transmutes into flint and back into water and over again, metamorphosing in a churning lazy whirl. it dizzies him, blurring his vision until there is no difference between the two; there's just a murky charcoal pool, molten obsidian shimmering like glass, rippling like the surface of an ocean less haunted than the one sloshing in his cerebrum.

an ocean glinting with the reflection of two incandescent stars careening towards each other at a devastating rate, a spectacle to behold.

relaxing his shoulders, tommy orders them to, "kiss," more certain than ever. when they hesitate, he adds, "each other," bracing himself for the likelihood of a stellar collision.

when eddie clambers on top of buck and leans down to crush their lips together, pushing his head down against tommy's thighs, pushing tommy out of his own, it feels more like the calm soar and twinkling glitter of a shooting star against the navy velvet sky, the soft crash of a wave against the edge of a silky coast.

there's no threat of unkind flame, no exploding celestial dust.

it feels like water.

tommy kneels at the sacred place where the luminous sea laps at the heavenly shoreline and drinks, and drinks, and drinks.

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drinks become shots become wandering hands in the generous backseat of a stranger's car, an obvious cocktail to use as a scapegoat for the hammering beneath tommy's breastbone. the depths of his mind bubble up with, trust your gut, not your heart.

he has mixed feelings about that one, but at present he's not sure he can trust any singular part of his corporeal form, so at least it half-applies.

hearts and guts aside, tommy is starkly aware that things between buck and eddie may be escalating a bit beyond his feasible reach. he'd come into the evening equipped with the knowledge that he's successfully constructed his own internal witch's cottage of cake shingles and sugared windowpanes in this questionable "date" night between the three of them, however mutually agreed upon the night may be. he's self-aware enough to understand that he's destined to walk himself straight back into it, naïve as hansel and gretel without the excuse of not knowing better.

he just hadn't realized how famished he's become, and how tempting his own makings would look.

with buck seated comfortably between himself and eddie, tommy has no real access to eddie outside of the smush of knuckles-on-upper-arm from the hand he's got slung around buck's shoulder. as per usual the concept of space does not seem to exist between the other men, and tommy's fingertips get wedged so tightly between their limbs that it feels like with just a little more effort, maybe they could do some damage. the sick, private, bourbon-drenched gutters of his mind surmise that maybe he'd let them.

he watches as they exchange a heated look and a hotter liplock, uncertain as to whether he'll ever get used to witnessing them like this. in the weeks following the fated night of their little home movie screening, tommy's been lucky enough to encourage and initiate several more exchanges of both kisses and conversation among the three of them.

"i... still want to be with you," evan had mumbled against his chest, as they laid in bed together the morning after their tag-team makeouts with eddie to the soundtrack of top gun's menu screen music on a muffled loop.

"i had hoped," was tommy's response. after a beat, "and eddie?"

buck had peered up at tommy, eyes so earnest and open and stupidly fucking blue. "yeah, yes, eddie," he'd said, almost apologetic. "i— i do want to be with eddie," like he had to.

"i know," tommy had told him, the organs in his abdomen heaving tumultuously. "it's okay, evan," he'd said, his heart a hummingbird fluttering frantic. like the idea wasn't sending his ribcage collapsing in on itself, he'd even managed, "i can leave whenever you're ready for me to go." he'd assumed all along that he was on borrowed time; couldn't be a beggar and a chooser.

buck, with love bursting forth from every single inch of his being, with more than enough to go around, had admitted to wanting tommy to stay, if tommy would be okay with it. he pitched the idea that they could talk to eddie, try this together, give it an honest shot.

tommy had flashed back to a childhood history lesson on the u.s. mint where he learned that certain coins aren't made in layers, but instead by melting all of the metals together to become a solitary slab. his copper edges fuse further into mirroring ponds of nickel.

three sides of the same coin, he'd thought to himself. imagine that.

"god, eddie," buck rasps now, voice low, clandestine enough to stay in the backseat. "want you so fuckin' bad."

eddie's answering, "jesus, buck, i— want you, too," honest and shameless, snaps tommy fully back into the present moment in perfect timing.

their rideshare driver whips into the driveway of tommy's house, personified stress wearing a thin windbreaker of customer service as he vocally ushers them out of the car — ahem, looks like we're here, have a pleasant rest of your evening, goodbye. as eddie and buck tumble out of the passenger's side rear door in a picture of resolute gracelessness, tommy, clutching stubbornly onto an ounce of awareness, pauses to give a rearview-mirror nod of thanks to the weary-eyed dude white-knuckling the steering wheel. he promises a significant gratuity for bearing with their shenanigans and lets himself out on the driver's side of the car.

while he steadies himself on his feet, gravel crackles under the wheels of the gratefully retreating sedan, headlight beams fading to shadow. tommy observes the silhouette of the inelegant, eight-limbed, two-headed harbinger-creature making its way to his home's front entrance in a clumsy tangle and waits for his innards to spike with fear, with reluctance. he meanders up the drive and overturns every stone lining the path to his warranted doom, expecting to find the tattered shreds of his decomposing clarity, or maybe a colony of vicious fire ants. all he finds is fertile, loamy earth, rife with potential.

he stumbles up his porch stairs and unlocks the door when he gets there, opening it for the lot of them to fall through together.

───────────────

together on tommy's mattress, buck and eddie writhe and moan and curse. they haven't been able to break apart since toppling out of the backseat. they kiss like it's the very thing keeping them alive.

from where he's snuggled up to buck's back, tommy's got a front row seat for the premiere screening of his most-likely demise. he can see the saliva bubblling on the edges of eddie's tongue as he smears it from buck's throat all the way to the cap of his shoulder, a glistening snail trail scattered through with blooming bruises he'd sucked into buck's skin minutes before. he can hear every wet catch of buck's breath in his throat, every soft grunt eddie lets out into against it, every exhale shared between them.

tommy's head spins, so god damn far from being on straight. he feels like a balloon released into the wind, miles above the cold and familiar waters of his deep-ocean, stranded somewhere in the high desert of his psyche. loose dry earth kicks up in a vortex around him, carried by the tempest of his culminating untended emotions. when the dust cloud settles enough for him to think, he recalls the term raison d'être.

it's french, that's why it sounds fancy, is what his father had said to teenage tommy, long before he'd cared to even attempt a grasp on the concept. he'd been moody, hormonal, and wildly, spitefully uninterested in all of the things the man he shared a name with held so dear. rolled his eyes at the gruff, translates to 'reason for being.'

"buck, buck, c'mon," is what eddie says as he scrabbles for a good grip on buck's shirt, taking fistfuls of fabric and wrenching it over buck's head in a frenzy. says, "come here," like buck isn't already melded into him, bare torsos flush, thighs slotted close. says, "come here," again, and it registers that eddie is calling for tommy, too.

tommy eyes snap onto eddie's across the naked curve of buck's shoulder to find them scalding. "fuck," he breathes out, "okay," like it's permission enough for all of them.

for now, it will suffice.

the skin stretched over buck's bulky trap muscle is tacky with eddie's spit when tommy sets his mouth against it, bursting salty-bitter on his tastebuds. buck whimpers into eddie's mouth and grinds his ass back against tommy's crotch; eddie's hips follow after them in a sinuous roll. into the blushing hollow of his ear tommy asks buck if he'd like to feel eddie inside of him, makes sure it's just loud enough for eddie to hear, too. he feels eddie's ankle hook around his own, overlapped with buck's.

"please, yes," urges buck, fervent and wanton, lust and liquor fraying the last threads of his hesitancy. "i've been wanting that."

"you have?" eddie asks, as tommy says, "he has."

"god." context aside, eddie's tone is reverent. he says it again, as though the word is synonymous with buck's name. then, like it's still a secret to himself, admits, "i've been wanting you, too."

buck groans and shifts, or maybe it's eddie — as tommy's faculties render off in the burn of both the top-shelf whiskey in his bloodstream and buck and eddie's immediate intimacy, it becomes progressively more challenging for him to distinguish the fine details. it all feels the same, gets identical synapses firing.

he tracks eddie's movements as he smooths a hand down buck's side, sure and attentive, as natural as breathing. when he keeps moving south to bump his fingertips up against the waistband of buck's jeans and the boxers beneath, buck's breath hitches, hips jerking. tommy tilts against them in pursuit.

eddie asks, "can i?" and it's double the approval he's seeking.

"yeah, eddie, please," buck begs again while tommy nods, delirious with overwhelm.

in an uncoordinated jumble, eddie gets buck flat on his back and makes himself a home between his open-lolling legs. right away his palms return to the broad planes of buck's chest, the curves of his strong stomach, the slight slants of his hips. he makes constellations out of kisses on buck's collarbone, his nipples, in the divot of his sternum.

it looks as close to worship as anything tommy's seen.

tommy wonders if it's worth telling eddie how he'd taken his time working evan open that morning, fucking him deep and thorough so he'd be easier for eddie to push inside of now. if it's worth telling eddie how he'd come, sudden and hard and so fucking good, from thinking about buck taking him so readily.

when eddie's devout, trembling fingers struggle to unclasp the button of buck's jeans, tommy decides to backburner the dirty talk. instead, he rests a hand on top of eddie's, gentle yet authoritative, and says, "let me help."

buck's hips lift for tommy's hands without second thought, making it simple to shuck the pants off of him as eddie shimmies out of his own. before he can even process the sight of evan buckley and eddie diaz naked, together, on his own mattress, tommy's met with twinning expectant gazes and understands that he's meant to strip, too.

"i—" thought i would stay on the sidelines, he tries to say. but as seconds pass under the scrutiny of the other men, the reluctance dies in his larynx, and he jostles around a bit until the denim of his pants is bunched down low enough to free his dick.

he's too preoccupied by the fact that he's got both objects of his affection directly in front of him, touching and loving on each other and spilling all of it onto him, to truly comprehend the magnitude of the moment. his head is so far into the atmosphere that he almost misses eddie say, "tell me what to do, tommy."

re-tethered to the earth by the string of eddie's voice, tommy doesn't miss buck's impatient, "aw, c'mon, eddie, just get in me." his desperate, "need you," is clear as day, clear as his afternoon sky irises, brighter against the rosy blush ruddying his cheekbones. he's always so damn pretty when he pleads.

tommy glimpses down at buck's dick, finds it stiff and pink and already leaking a mess onto his belly; he flicks across to the heft of eddie's where it rests heavy in the lax grip of his own hand. it's a beautiful cock, flushed dark and filled out, not quite as thick as tommy's but a nice, proportionate size. tommy knows buck will unfurl for him at once, a blossom to the morning sun.

meeting the bonfire of eddie's anticipative stare, tommy decides to say, "it won't take much, i got him ready for you this morning. right, baby?"

if buck could nod any more vigorously, he might snap his vertebrae. he adjusts the angle of his hips a little to make more of his ass visible, scoots onto a pillow so that he can prop himself up enough to get a better hold on eddie's waist.

"jeeesus," drawls eddie — a rare slip of his honeyed-rye texas lilt — and then, like he can't help it, "christ." his eyes rake down buck's body, idling on his twitching dick before trailing further, like he'll be able to find evidence: tommy was here.

that makes tommy smirk. he wishes he could keep his instructions ambiguous, left up for eddie's interpretation, something like he can handle whatever you're willing to give him. instead, mindful of the fact that this is largely uncharted territory for eddie, he suggests, "start with your fingers, you won't hurt him."

tommy's trusty bottle of nightstand lube is within convenient reach, making it no trouble to squeeze and slather some across eddie's fingers with a lewd jerk. a bit of extra coats the side of tommy's hand and he uses it to rub along the cleft of buck's ass, prompting a shiver out of him.

"there you go," tommy rumbles, "nice and wet."

the synchronous broken moan that the two let out when eddie finally finds the courage to nudge his fingers into buck is one that will most likely play like a broken-record loop within the walls of tommy's skull forever from this moment forward, for better or for worse.

buck promises, "i can take more," with the bleeding edge of a prayer still present in his tone. "i want more, want you, eddie, come on. it's alright, you can fuck me, you're not gonna break me."

eddie asks, "are you sure?" dually directed.

"never been more sure," buck affirms, as tommy says, "trust him, he knows his own limits," all the while knowing he can't make the same claim about himself.

regardless, he casts himself into the riptide, plummets into the undertow and captures buck's lips in a greedy kiss. he licks behind buck's teeth and drinks up his whines as eddie rides his dick along the slick valley of buck's asscheeks. before he even pushes inside, buck's making these fucking tiny wounded noises that make tommy's heart swell and cock throb.

when eddie lines up and sinks, at last, into the place inside of buck that tommy has come to learn and know and adore, buck breaks away from tommy's kiss with something close to a genuine sob. one of his hands finds one of tommy's, the other still firm on eddie's waist, keeping both of them close. he's got a leg hitched up over one of eddie's hips for better leverage, and his toes curl when eddie starts to move, shallow and slow.

eddie's name has never sounded better to tommy's ears than it does falling out of buck's lips now.

"buck." eddie's tone is reverent. he says it again, as though buck's name is synonymous with god, the two a singular entity within the confines of his skull.

tommy nearly has to look away from them, they blaze so brightly. evan buckley and eddie diaz, starfire contained in terrestrial form, crashing and combining and dazzlingly white-hot.

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white-hot aftershocks zap through tommy's nervous system as he sits at the edge of the mattress, back turned to the two other men. his fingers are gooey with spatters of buck's come mixed with his own, his softening dick sensitive and sticky as his entire body pulses from the dopamine spike of his orgasm. being a spectator to eddie and buck's otherworldly connection — and a helping hand in their ridiculously hot, intimate sex — has him feeling triply unmoored.

he's supposed to be getting them something hydrating to drink; he'd been the one to offer after eventually peeling himself free from the gordian knot of their bodies. evan always gets thirsty after, in particular when he gets a little teary from the pleasure overload, so tommy figures he could use a glass of cold water. they all could.

he tries to will his legs to stand; he finds his knees locked. impulse turns him inward and sweeps him cliffside on the tallest peak of his high desert mountain range. there, he can stand with his shoulders in repose and head in the clouds, squinting far into the distance where he can decipher the unmistakable expanse of an ocean that glints with the reflection of two incandescent stars careening towards each other at a devastating rate. a ghostly whale breaches the surface for a flash, a mere speck on the horizon from here, vanished before its presence totally registers.

his heavy eyelids flutter shut and he mulls, achingly, over the term raison d'être.

he can hear buck and eddie behind him exchanging lazy, smacking kisses and sweet murmured praises.

"you made that so good for me, thank you."

"mm, you were pretty fuckin' good yourself. now come kiss me some more."

the sounds and sentiments soak into tommy's soul like they're meant for him. his lips tingle as though the press of another mouth is against them; his ears warm as eddie waxes on about how fucking glorious that all felt. his heart swoops at evan's quiet, bashful laugh.

upon opening his eyes the fog in his line of sight clears, and even through a blur of unwanted tears he can clearly recognize that he is no longer in the desert but in the sacred place where the luminous sea laps at the heavenly shoreline. the call of the waves isn't far off at all — the surf is actually rippling at his toes, splashing at his knees and calves. he's been here since the night that eddie diaz kissed evan buckley in his lap, feet sunken into silt, warm tides rising and falling around him.

translates to 'reason for being.'

"come back to us, tommy," summons eddie, as evan's hands reach out and welcome him back down to their mess of rumpled sheets and sweaty limbs.

tommy thinks, i could be a river, and lets himself melt into the embrace of their current, stream into ocean, copper into nickel.

[fitzselfships]

I need to look at Zooble images immediately!!!!!

[prettyincubus]

every time a new ep comes out im like i cant believe how into blitz i am i must be completely batshit insane what do i see in him and then he makes me laugh even though my brains torturing me and i remember why i love him so

[coffee-without-anesthetics]

all my joking about spiralling and being insane are a lead up preparing unsuspecting people to my Actually Unwell state i get in monthly for catharsis' sake

[whirlybirbs]

i am on my hands and knees begging for a shred of keigo takami baby bird kfc angel content from you, if you write hawks i will finally know true peace

— MEET & GREET ; 1 / 2 ; HAWKS ; 啓悟

summary: you manage to snag two VIP meet & greet tickets for your nephew's birthday. he insists you join him. part one of two. pairing: keigo takami ; hawks / f!reader word count: 3.1k tags: humor, meet-cute, pro hero culture, birbs ignores all relevant timelines yet again, fluff, phone-flirting, hawks is great with kids, t+, relatable pre-hook up hesitation, they will fuck next time a/n: hawks is the chappell roan of the mha universe. stop touching him. this man actually changed my brain chemistry in early 2023 but we don't need to talk about that. anways, this poll was on the ropes all day and i made the executive choice to feed the hawks birblets.

You feel like your face has been set in a semi-permanent cringe all morning. 

In your right hand, you're clutching your half-finished iced coffee for dear life. In your other, you're clinging to your nephew as he drags you through the convention center — one of the bright red wings of his beloved, homemade cosplay has started to go lopsided, and the six-year-old excitedly tugs it back in place as he tries to yank you forward.

"C'mon! We're gonna be late!" 

This really wasn't your scene.

Fan conventions had a way of making your skin itch. The amount of sexy All Mights you've seen this morning alone has to be some sort of milestone indicator for the environment. Whether nature is healing or dying, though, you have no idea. 

If you had it your way, you'd spend the rest of the day mingling through the artist stalls — but, to your nephew Hayami's point, the two of you had somewhere to be.

Your VIP meet-and-greet badge swings as you trip up and laugh. "Okay! Okay, slow down! You're about to yank my arm off!"

It was the best birthday gift imaginable for Hayami. You officially cemented your title as The Coolest Aunt Ever when you managed to snag the two VIP convention meet-and-greet tickets (complete with a professional photo and two signed copies of the convention's annual poster) after a harrowing seven hours in an online Ticketmaster line. There were only a hundred of them sold — and sure, you coulda thrown that pretty hunk of cash into a college fund for Hayami, but he was deeply in his hero phase. 

Originally you expected that Hayami's father, your brother-in-law, would want to go.

But, no, Hayami himself insisted you come with him.

After all, you helped me with my costume, he begged, I wouldn't have been able to do it without you!

That you did. Many a hot glue gun burn was suffered at the hands of those damn red feathers. If you squint from far away, the cosplay isn't half bad considering the thrift and dollar-store materials. It wasn't one of those inch-to-inch replicas, but it worked. 

He's like a cute, bouncing mini Hawks. Complete with goggles and wings.

And Hayami is happy. And that's all that matters to you. 

The line is already pretty long, and Hayami runs his gloved hands along the line barriers as he races to his spot, audibly wooshing the whole way — just like Hawks does, probably. His badge jingles, and he hops to a stop as you come up behind him and pat his head. The six-year-old stands up on his tippy-toes, trying to see around the Miss Midnight fan in front of them. 

"Can you see him?" he chatters excitedly, "Ti, can you?"

He's called you Ti ever since he could speak. Auntie was too long, and the shortened version has stuck. 

You hop up onto your tippy-toes, mimicking him — and you swear you catch a glimpse of a crimson feather plumage over the gathered heads of the other meet-and-greet fans. It might be another cosplayer.

"I dunno," you whisper, your eyes darting to your phone's lock screen, "It's supposed to start any minute—"

The telltale roar of fanfare lets you know exactly who has just arrived. 

Hayami's excitement is palpable. Without a word, you're hauling him up and perching him on your shoulders. His hands land in your hair, and you can feel his smile from down here. 

"Ti! It's him!"

The line starts moving not long after, and you finish your iced coffee while Hayami stays perched on your shoulders, utterly starstruck. You weave through the barriers, moving up a few feet every minute, until you're only four or five people away from where Hawks sits behind a long table. 

You have to admit, the guy is pretty cute. 

Cuter than the fan-cams make him out to be, even. 

Sandy blonde hair, sharp gold eyes, and big wings. There's no doubt in your mind he's showboating, but as people approach the table, you notice this hesitant twitch ripple through the red feathers every time someone gets a little too close. 

That cringe from earlier washes over your face again as a girl reaches over the table to roughly run her fingers across one of his flight feathers. 

It's Keigo's least favorite part of all this. 

I mean, there's a part of him that gets it. He's the #2 Hero in all of Japan. He's a big deal. He's top of the popularity polls, he's the people's bird, y'know? He's a marketed commodity that sells out each and every time. 

But, that doesn't mean he likes being touched.

Especially the wings. Hands off the wings.

"Hey, Hayami?" you ask, tilting your head up as you both step forward.

You can feel the sudden nervousness creeping up on Hayami as he nods and looks down at you. "Y-Yea?"

"Make sure you ask for permission if you touch his wings, okay?" you say gently, muscling him down from your shoulders and doing a once over on his mini-Hawks cosplay, "And remember to tell him your name!"

Hayami nods, his nerves palpable as he realizes the two of you are next. 

On instinct, his hand shoots out and grips yours for dear life. 

And then, one of the marketers waves the two of you forward.

The first word that comes to Keigo's mind is MILF. You're cute. Real cute. Definitely not the usual sort he meets at conventions, and definitely not the usual sort that buys a ticket to his meet-and-greets. The kid clinging to your arm is arguably even cuter, and Hawks can't hide the blooming grin on his face when the pair of you step forward.

"Woa-ho!" he yaps from behind the patterned table, "Dude! Nice outfit!"

Hayami is panicking. You can tell from his shocked silence as the two of you step forward. You bend at the knees, squatting to your nephew's height, then encourage him to go ahead, go on. His big, brown eyes bob from you to Hawks. 

"Go ahead, Hayami," you encourage softly, "Say hi."

Oh, shit. You're really cute. Is this your kid? Nah, no way. You're way too young to be his mom. Unless—

You've seriously got him weighing the pros and cons of step-fatherhood and he doesn't even know your name. 

He could do stepdad shit at twenty-six. Right?

"Hi, Mr. Hawks," comes the shy voice of the mini Hawks before him; the sandy blonde's chest clenches. 

This is too fuckin' cute.

"Heh, hey kid," he chirps back, leaning forward on the table as his mouth curves into a friendly grin; Hawks' eyes are trained on the kid's growing smile, "What's your name?"

"H-Hayami."

"It's cool t' meetcha, Hayami," Hawks parrots as your own proud smile grows. There's relief flooding your shoulders. Thank god, Hayami didn't choke the clutch moment, "I like your wings, lil' dude!"

Hayami gives a little turn, wiggling his prized, handmade possession. His confidence is building; the compliment lights the kid's cheeks up. 

"My aunt helped me make them!" Hayami chatters, his eyes brightening from behind the flight goggles strapped to his head, "She says I need to ask for your permission to touch your feathers!"

Keigo's gold eyes slip to your face. You give him an apologetic grimace, your eyes flicking to the girl beyond the VIP area still screaming about how she touched him, she touched Hawks, oh my god. You mouth out a silent apology.

Hawks' finds himself a little speechless. Doesn't happen often. 

He's not used to having some say in how he's objectified and consumed.

A sandy brow quirks as he pushes his yellow-tinted visor up, and into his hair. He seems shocked. It's not an expression you've seen on the #2 before — and in the last few weeks, you've seen plenty of Hawks content during Hayami's cosplaying journey. The reference material is pretty expansive.

"That's real considerate, chickadee — I appreciate that," his voice is soft; his smile is a little looser, "C'mere, Hayami, you wanna hold a feather while I sign your poster?"

This is, like, the best day of Hayami's life. 

Hawks brings his visor back down. 

You stand to full height, wringing your purse's strap, watching Hayami hold both hands out as one of the delicate pieces of plumage floats into his hands on command. He cradles it like treasure, his big brown eyes glimmering with new-found amazement. 

You step forward, and place a hand on Hayami's shoulder as he gently ushers his hands toward your face. "Ti, look, isn't this, like, the coolest thing ever — it's one of Hawks' feathers!"

Hawks' eyes flick up to the two of you as his pen darts across the two VIP package posters. There's a smirk on his face as he pays half attention to the task of signing. 

And scribbling his number on the back of one.

"I see that," you chuckle, leaning in to inspect the beautiful, crimson feather, "Make sure you say th—"

Before you finish your sentence, the very feather in question darts up to tickle the tip of your nose. Your immediate reaction is to scrunch your nose and grin. It's not so much ticklish as it is gentle. For good measure, Hawks gives Hayami a little brush on the cheek, too. The boy descends into delighted laughter, allowing the feather to zip back through the air and into its designated place in his wings. 

Hawks is smirking.

"Alright you two," comes the level voice of the marketer; the camera in her hands is bulky, and a signifier that their time meeting #2 is nearly up, "Let's get in nice and close for a photo!"

The table proves to be a bit of a pain, but you bend down to Hayami's height as Hawks leans over the table and gives you both bunny ears. The camera flash burns bright in your eyes as Hayami's hand darts into yours again. 

"Here you two go," Hawks rumbles easily; he's standing now, and you find yourself yet again struck by how handsome he is. He smells like summer air and some expensive cologne you'll probably never know the name of. Definitely one of his sponsors. 

You take both posters, as Hayami's excitement seems to overflow and he's nearly buzzing with excitement to know he has Hawks' autograph. The boy bounces at your heels as he clutches his signed copy of the annual convention poster. His big, brown eyes are wide with pure joy. 

"Thank you!" Hayami chatters, "You're the best, Hawks!"

"Thank you," you smile, taking your own poster as Hayami's hand rockets back into yours.

"Nah, it's nothin', chickadee. Thanks for the manners," he calls after you with a touch of good humor, "You're real sweet."

"No problem!" you stutter out, thrown entirely by the compliment, as one of the other marketers guides you towards the exit with a hand on your back. 

"Oh, hey! One last thing!"

You flick your eyes back over your shoulder as you're shuffled out of the meet-and-greet.

You watch Hawks mouth 'check the poster', and with a hand held up to the side of his face. Then, 'call me'. 

"You're kidding me."

Hayami is finally asleep — and your sister is closing the door to his darkened bedroom as she hisses the words out. You're leaning against the hallway wall, arms crossed and looking entirely exasperated.

"I can't just call him," you say softly as you kick off the wall and follow her into the kitchen, "This isn't, like, the hot waiter who leaves his number on the receipt—"

"No, it's even better," she chatters, moving towards the unfinished glass of wine that sits on the dinner table, "I swear to god if you don't pick up that phone and call him right now—"

It's your brother-in-law who speaks up from the couch. "What's stopping you?"

"I don't know, being chronically single?" you cry as you throw your hands, "I haven't gotten a wax in months���"

"You seriously think #2 cares?" comes your sister's flat reply.

Your brother-in-law mimics her affectation. He throws a finger in the air. "Real heroes don't care."

The two of them high-five. 

...They're probably right.

You suck your teeth as you cross your arms again and weigh your options.

I mean — it's only eight o'clock. It's early. And it's a Friday. 

It could go two ways — you break your year-long dry spell with the #2 pro-hero in the country, or it's a total bust and he turns out to be a massive weirdo. Both are frankly pretty entertaining. 

You chew your lip.

Then, you decide.

You kick off the wall and move towards your phone in the kitchen. It's sitting beside the poster. 

"Oh my god, are you doing it?" your sister calls from the couch, her hand gripping her husband's arm tightly.

"I'm doing it," you say, ignoring the bite of nervousness in your hands as you type in the cell number that was scrawledhastily on the back of the poster. 

"Ohmygod."

It's ringing.

Suddenly, you have an audience. Your sister and brother-in-law are crowding you, their faces wide and expectant as it continues to ring. You pull your thumb to your mouth, pushing your bottom lip between your teeth. You let it ring, and ring, and just when you settle that you're being sent to voicemail, there's a click and a voice.

"'Ello?"

Your sister slams her hand into her husband's back, the two of them scrambling in a sudden flash of limbs and excitement. You drag your thumb across your throat — gesturing for them to cut it out. 

"Uh, hi," you fumble, "Is this... Hawks?"

Suddenly, there's a bark of laughter on the other line. "The one and only. Who's this?"

A slow smirk tugs at your cheeks. "I checked the back of the poster — a bold move, y'know."

"Convention Cutie!" he practically cheers, "Hold on, hold on — gimme two seconds, lemme just land."

Your lips part and you blink. The mental image is a hell of a thing. You swallow down a bought of amusement. "Sure, sure, take your time."

Keigo was starting to doubt you'd actually call him. The convention wrapped up hours ago, and he already made himself busy by exploring the southern city. It's nice here. A little bit like his hometown. Not too much crime, which has made for a pretty uneventful evening.

Until now.

His boots touch down on the nearby rooftop and he settles into an easy squat. His wings tuck themselves tightly against his back. 

You can hear a bit of wind bristle against his end of the receiver. 

"Alright, alright, sorry," he rumbles out, "Now you've got my full, undivided attention—"

You tug on your bottom lip. Your sister and brother-in-law are entirely hooked on the little bits they're overhearing from their spot across the counter. Your sister takes a long drink of her wine.

"Am I... being a bit of a distraction?" you ask, "If now isn't a good time—"

"You've been a distraction all day," comes the smooooooth reply; even Keigo's proud of himself for that one, "I'm just out for a fly. Nothin' too serious. I am glad you called, though."

Oh, fuck. Your knees feel like jello. You white-knuckle grip the counter as your sister gnashes her teeth and mimics biting her fist in silent mimery.

"Yea?" you pry, fanning yourself as you lean farther against the counter. 

"Yea, definitely," Hawks grins as he tips his head back and checks out the stars, "You busy tomorrow night? I'd love to take you out to dinner."

There's a commotion across the kitchen. The two of them are smacking one another's arms, their genuine excitement is palpable as they try to stay quiet. They're failing.

"I'd love that, Hawks."

This is new for him.

Technically speaking, you're not a fan. Your nephew is. So, this doesn't technically qualify as one of those unspoken hero faux pas. Don't date fans. Then again, what does it matter? He can do whatever he wants. 

And you're cute. And nice. And kind. And maybe he's being a sap, but seeing you with your nephew made something in his heart tighten. He didn't even notice he was making a nest of scrapped trash from the posters around his seat until the afternoon was over. 

God, sometimes the evolutionarily deep, bird DNA thing is weird.

Hawks lets out a tight breath he didn't realize he was holding. 

"Cool. Okay. Uh, you... you chill with, like, 7pm?" he fiddles with his visor, "I'm... I'm free whenever so..."

He sounds nervous. Your grin is so bright it could outburn the sun. 

"That works for me," you say as you fiddle with your lip, "As far as dress code goes... Do I, like, need a flight suit?"

His laugh is warm. 

"No, no, I — I was gonna get us an Uber," his voice lilts into something more mischievous, "Unless..."

"Maybe after dinner," you remark easily, swaying side to side, "You can show me what those wings do?"

Oh, smooth. Real smooth. Keigo's face is warm. His wings in question twitch eagerly at the invitation. 

"You gonna ask before you touch?" he teases back into the receiver, his brow raised.

It's your turn to laugh. "Hey, it's called being polite."

"I appreciate it," he rumbles out, about earlier at the convention, "Seriously. People are grabby — these things are sensitive..."

"Making a mental note of that, and filing it away," you flirt openly as your sister cheers silently, "For after dinner, maybe."

Keigo's brain stutter-steps. His laugh is surprised. He's about to comment on how you might just be the girl of his dreams when suddenly the wail of sirens perks up his attention. It's two blocks over. Three fire engines. The wind is carrying the smell of acrid smoke. 

"Hey, chickadee, I, uh... I gotta go," he says, standing and allowing his attention to drift to the scene playing out in front of him; it's a house fire — must be — on the southern side of town, "I'll text you the spot for tomorrow, is that okay?"

"Of course, don't let me keep you," you hush, "I'll... text you?"

"I'm countin' on it."

"Bye, Hawks."

"See ya, chickadee."

You didn't even realize you were sweating until you put the phone down.

Your sister and her husband are there, eyes wide. "So?"

"So," you croon as you laugh and pridefully sway your hips, "I have plans tomorrow night."

Their screaming wakes up Hayami.

As you help the kid back to sleep, you keep it secret that he's a better wingman than you could have ever anticipated. 

[simmerianne93]

[Simmerianne93]Portrait_poses_12

Hi everyone how are you today??!

I must apologize for my small absence and silence....

If you follow me on Twitter you already know this but I was a little burned out with the amount of poses I had been doing the last few months, so I took a couple of weeks to "heal" and be able to bring you more and more poses.

From now on I tell you that my idea is to bring you some posepacks this coming week and the next one. There are a few packages that I already had scheduled in my agenda and now that I feel better, I am able to get to work and get them ready... So in these next two weeks you can expect some new packages to tell your wonderful stories.

And since I have cleared my ideas for the next few weeks, let's get to the point with the reason of this post:

As you may know, I usually post my poses at an earlier time, but today I made an exception. These poses I'm bringing today were not really scheduled or intended to be made haha, but today is Father's Day in my country and when I woke up and congratulated my dad, I felt like to do something related for our beloved pixel fathers.

In my normal planning, I don't usually make a complete package and publish it on the same day, but I didn't want to let this day slip under the table and I really wanted to share with you what I had in my head, so... despite my recent burned out, I made it happen xDDD (this is really wild now that i think about it xDDD)

I hope you like them... and even though it's late, happy Father's Day to all those who celebrate it today!!!

Enjoy!!!

----------

What is on it?

6 dúo poses:

2 poses for an adult sim and an infant sim.

2 poses for an adult sim and a toddler sim.

2 poses for an adult sims and a kid sim.

--- What do you need?

Andrew poses player.

Teleport any sim by Scumbumbo or Mccc by deaderpool.

Invisible infant mat replacement  by mcrudd  (OPTIONAL)

Instructions in the original post.

——

TOU

Do not claim my creations as your own.

Do not re-upload or modify my creations.

Do not make money of my creations.

Do not include my creations in Mods folders to download.

Please follow my Term Of Use.

——

Download it now here — [FREE FOR EVERYONE]

——————

If you want to support me:  Patreon | Ko-fi

All my poses overview: Pinterest |  Wix | Tumblr

More in-game preview pics of all my poses: Instagram

My socials: Twitter | BlueSky | Instagram | Tumblr 

Lives and videos: Youtube

——————

I really hope you like them and I will say in advance: Thank you so much for using them.

@ts4-poses

[pastelhikaru]

dp x dc prompt's that live in my head space 2

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:⋆·˚*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:⋆·˚*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:⋆·˚ ༘ * 🔭

✧₊⁺ Damian reverse adopts himself into the Fenton family

✧₊⁺ Danny helps fuel the Riddler's obsession in a healthy way

✧₊⁺ De-aged Danny adopts Tim as his sibling

✧₊⁺ Danny makes a company so ghost have an outlet for their obsessions

✧₊⁺ Frightknight x Scarecrow prompt

✧₊⁺ Cat!Boy Streamer Danny

✧₊⁺ Ellie is destabilizing and to save her Danny freezes her to stop her from melting

✧₊⁺ Frostbite helps heal Mr.Freeze's wife

✧₊⁺ Danny's wayward attempts to deprogram the Talon's

✧₊⁺ Danny is an unexpected inventor for villains

✧₊⁺ Clone children Danny, Dani, and Jazz

✧₊⁺ Obligations of a rouge verses those of a parent masterlist

✧₊⁺ Firefighting Danny :O

✧₊⁺ Danny adopts Batman's clone subject 514A

✧₊⁺ Tim Drake is related to Princess Dorathea

✧₊⁺ Ghost are Dragons AU <333

✧₊⁺ THE BEDAZZLER AU. MY BELOVED

✧₊⁺ Everlasting Trio's life becomes the Batkids fav sitcom <3

✧₊⁺ Tim asks Danny to stage a kidnapping of the best Robin

✧₊⁺ Danny becomes a tech giant and the Batman tries to prove it's a front.

✧₊⁺ Battinson can't seem to stop adopting kids

✧₊⁺ Danny takes care of the Talons and they may believe he is their new leader

✧₊⁺ Team Phantom escape from the GIW, and try to safely sustain themselves in Gotham without drawing attention

✧₊⁺ In need of adoption au

✧₊⁺ Danny has a Boo-Tube channel :)

✧₊⁺ Danny is BruHarvy clone

✧₊⁺ Martha Wayne ghost is stuck in her pearl necklace, in which danny finds and helps said ghost find her pearl pieces to send it back where it belongs. And oh, does this good deed come to bite him in the ass. :3

✧₊⁺ SPACE WHALE DANNNY???!!!

✧₊⁺ DPxDCxBlue Exorcist prompt. Another DPxDCxBlue Exorcist prompt

✧₊⁺ Danny mistakenly calls Dick Tata

✧₊⁺ Danny is dealing with his death day when he accidently traumatizes Dick and the other Bats

✧₊⁺ Ghost act as Guardian Angels

✧₊⁺ Danny mentally adopts a deaged-Bruce/ Amity is a War Zone AU

✧₊⁺ Assumed rogue Danny is making a gift for Sam which is essentially ectoplasm that eats waste. However because he is an assumed mad scientist making clones the Bats bust in and ruin his perfectly contained experiment

✧₊⁺ Danny befriends the YJ in his civi's now vigilantes keep hanging out in his apartment and he has to hide his heroic past

✧₊⁺ Phantom of Love masterlist

[thewriteblrlibrary]

A Step-by-Step Marketing Guide so we can spite traditional publishers (and make people cry).

~ This is a guide specific for fiction/writeblr. All of this is for free and there is little social media posting/ads involved (unless you want to venture into that). ~

Within the writeblr spheres, there's this underlying hope that our stories will find their audience. Perhaps we'll have a fandom full of fanart and video essays, or maybe we'll be an instant classic and sit on collectors' beloved bookshelves. Our stories could sit within the deepest corners of someone's heart and maybe they never tell a soul about what's so special to them. Maybe our stories become those 'underrated masterpieces'.

Or we just want to see people ugly cry over our writing.

Whatever your hope may be, marketing is an important path to venture on (especially because traditional publishers are rejecting diverse books in favor of ones that are already famous + the whole sub-par machine thing they seem obsessed with.)

And thus, my childhood marketing obsession will hopefully be of use to you. This is all for free (unless you want to spend money) and you don't need to figure out social media platforms (unless you want to, and this guide works if you decide to take that route too.)

Step One: Characters

Marketing spheres will define these fictious people as 'avatars' or 'the target audience'. You could also call them characters. Because that's what they are: fictional people.

For this step, you shall create characters that would love your story.

And here's some great news: You've already done this.

Perhaps you wrote your story to comfort a prior version of yourself. Perhaps each character in your story holds an aspect of your personality. Perhaps you were ridiculously self-indulgent and made the story you would've loved to read. These are all possible characters you can reuse for marketing.

Write down 2-4 quick archetypes for these characters. You'll chose an aspect of your story (characters, themes, or the younger-self that you wrote it for) and write a thumbnail sketch. (Main issue, fears, wants, personality traits if they relate to the main issue.)

I'll do it for my story (the Land of the Fallen Fairies) down below:

Anuli-like (my MC): Overthinking and aloof. Wants a happy ending but thinks their current personality/character isn't good enough for one. The present stales in comparison to the past/the childhood they lost. The 'gifted theater kids'. Kamari-like (side character): Postpones happiness in favor of creating a perfect schedule/getting accomplishments. Heavy masking. Creative but doesn't create anymore. Promises themself they'll enjoy themselves later, when they've earned it. Workaholics. My younger self: Wanting a fantasy escapism to embody the traits they wish they had in real life. Dissatisfied and worried about reality. Perfectionists. Self-indulgent: People who love plants and forests and fantasy worlds far away from reality/humanity.

Great! Now it's time to find these characters.

Step Two: Setting.

(Let's assume you're using the internet for your marketing. But a similar method works for real life too.)

Where do the characters live?

In order to figure that out, we need to discover the characters' interests, what they watch to solve their problems, and who they find #relatable.

(You can do this for each character or for all the characters at once.)

For example:

Anuli-like -

interests: Stories. Analysis videos. Fantasy escapism. Things that remind them of their childhood. (so nature, warmth, comfort, play, imagination and the times they would actually enjoy learning.)

Places to look: Nature quotes, ambience videos, children's shows and fairytales (comfort shows). Fandom culture - fanfic video essays, fan art.

Solving problems (the problem being wanting a 'happy ending' but feeling that their personality/lifestyle/characteristics aren't right for one): Mindfulness things. Self-healing. Quotes and meditations and candles galore. Slow living. Nature vlogs. Self care. All that 'live in the moment' culture.

Places to look: Slow living. Nature vlogs. The 'softer self-help' (spirituality stuff. Magic/ overnight answers). Witchcraft. 'aesthetic nature' places. Guided meditations.

#relatable: Burnt out gifted kids. People who think so much that their life passes them by. Storytellers and creative who create to make sense of the world. People who like dark, gory things in spite of who they want to be. People who don't like reality.

Places to look: Those 'learn better and remember everything' places. (The 'burnt-out gifted kid' recovery places.) Stop overthinking spots. Those quotes on Pinterest from poetic people who think too much /aff. Storyteller places. Dark academia. Classical music. One off quotes/ poetry.

Okie dokie. Once you have this, find channels, social media accounts, blogs, songs, books, etc. that fit with the categories you wrote down. (They should appeal to the characters) You can search up some of the terms you listed into searches and see who pops up. Bonus points if you find people that overlap with multiple sections.

I know I didn't include booktube or booktok in here. You can if you want too. But those can be a bit... 'consume these 500 books'. You also want to find other places where people who would like you story live, even if they don't follow booktube or booktok.

Congrats! Now you know where your characters live!

Step Three: the scary part

Take everyone you found on your search for the settings and write them down a list. Make sure you get an email/contact info. (they usually list them somewhere under 'for business inquires') Also feel free to watch their content and get to know what attributes these settings have.

And now... we talk to them. about our stories. You can do it. I believe in you.

This called 'pitching your product' in marketing spheres. But you can be informal about it.

I know it can be difficult to talk about your work, so here's a tone to have:

'I made this thing I like and I think you'll like it too'.

What you'll do is send an email (or dm) that goes like this (inspired by Creative Hive on youtube):

Hi [name],

[Genuine compliment]

[Quick sentence or two about your story. Include the themes and who it appeals to. If you have a logline/sentence summary, include that. But I find that the underlying themes and 'who's it's for' is more engaging.

For my story, I might say something like.

I've written a story you might enjoy, since you like [interest]. It's called the Land of the Fallen Fairies. It's a nature-themed commentary on the pursuit of happiness and fixing yourself to deserve that happiness, told by an overthinking, unreliable, houseplant narrator. It was supposed to comfort me when I got frustrated with myself and my happiness chasing, and I hope it can comfort others too.

(That's probably a bit long and I can trim it down a bit.)

You can phrase it like a gift if you want too.]

[Call to action.

'If you like it, I'd appreciate a mention on your [platform].

I know this part may be difficult to mention (imposter syndrome is not fun.) But I promise that if they do like it, they'll be happy to mention it.]

If they don't respond within... four-ish days? (A week at most). then you can include a follow up. For this you can include a template with info about your story. This way it's easy for them to talk about your story.

The template:

title

genre

blurb

Author

where to find the book

Bonus points if you have an additional, physical thing to send them.

Congrats! Now do this pitching process a few times until you've covered most of your bases. (Pitch to as many people as you can. It will get more comfortable as you do it. Play your favorite song and don't let yourself think too hard about it.)

----------

The benefits of this process are that you find people that are already interested in the themes and vibes of your story (in comparison to to ads, which get shoved in everyone's faces.). Someone your audience already trusts will talk about it, which means you don't need to do all this trial and error to find your audience and make content for them.

It's basically a bunch of people talking about something they like!

AND you diversify your audience across niches, but with an underlying theme/interests. Booktok/booktube must appeal to everyone, so it's a hit or miss for recommendations. (Unless there is someone that specifically does one genre/type of story.)

From here you can do fun little things to build up hype and make the book launch feel like this fun event. (I love it when that happens so here's my thoughts about trying to create an event with your story... although that may require another post entirely.)

preorder goals

charity goals

Arg's and puzzles

fund with side plushies and trinkets

Book blog tour

book boxes

as many memes as you can make

rewards (like bookmarks or posters or smth) that people can get for supporting

Talk about the process of creating your story. I know this one channel called 'Dead Sound' that creates 'making of' videos for his short films and they are some of the best videos on youtube.

Okay dear storyteller! Now go forth and share your story with the world!

Additional resources:

Creative Hive <-- a youtube channel that goes through the pitching process.

This video is also very good <-- Haven't watched the rest of the channel but I assume it's also good.

One of the best marketing channels on the internet (the videos are actually entertianing to watch.

Seth Goldin <-- I read his book and took the parts I liked and modified for storytelling marketing.

Dead Sound <-- propaganda to watch the short film series he has (he did the whole 2-d 3-d style wayyyy before spiderverse did... and he's one person making these. One person. It's amazing.

Glitch <--- If someone can figure out how The Amazing Digital Circus was marketed then I will pay you money. It seems to be a lot of memes and funny things.

[fae-morrigan]

Superfam and Found Family: What it Means to Choose

I have seen a lot of my beloved mutuals talk about adoption as a theme in the superfam, and thats true, thats very much a thing, but thats more a subsection of the larger idea with the superfamily: You get to choose your family, and define your relationship to them.

Clark and Kon come to mind. They've been discussed a lot lately, huh? Namely people saying Clark does not treat Kon well. This is false, by the way, they get along great.

But let's sort of dig into the actual story told by their relationship here: Kon was created by Lex without Clark's consent. Clark had no say in how part of his DNA would be used to create a new life.

(This is coincidentally why it irks me that certain fans will act like Clark is a monster for even HYPOTHETICALLY not wanting a relationship with Kon. Guys, you sound like pro-lifers. Lets watch it!)

Despite this, Clark accepts Kon with open arms. Now, as myself and others have pointed out, Kon's technically... he's not a clone, he's a test tube baby. Technically, biologically, he's Clark & Lex's son. D.. diversity win...?

But thats not how Clark and Kon choose to define their relationship. They instead decide, hey, we were raised by the same people, we're brothers.

Kon is not an outsider to the Superfam, even as he is an outsider to this world- He is welcomed with open arms once it is clear he needs a home. And with Clark and Kon, they get to choose how they define their relationship, not Lex, not anyone else.

Then, John Henry and Nat. John Henry is not Natasha's father, but their relationship is very complex and often veers into that territory, for the simple reason that he shows up for her in that capacity when Natasha's own father fails her.

Even while their relationship has its ups and downs (read 52 guys for THEM), they manage to forge a relationship based on mutual respect, enough to the point where during Steelworks, she is not just his niece, but his partner in building a better tomorrow. It is a fatherly/daughterly relationship built on mutual respect largely independent of their blood relation, built on the security that Clay failed to provide Natasha with.

Of course, to talk about adoption, Clois adopting the twins. I think Phillip Kennedy Johnson handles the topic of adoption EXPERTLY with Otho-Ra and Osul-Ra, specifically as a metaphor for transracial/transethnic adoption.

Clark's relationship with the twins is built throughout the Warworld saga, and does not start... great (they discuss looting his corpse lol), and often they. But Clark understands that the kids are traumatized, and seeks to guide them to a better situation.

Now I would be irresponsible to not mention that, during this time, Clark is still struggling with Jon's age up. He mumbles, disoriented during their first meeting, that the kids are the same age as his son (no they are not). In a less tightly written book by a worse writer, it'd be a thing where Clark completely uncritically finds 'replacement kids' in the twins... Which is NOT what happens here, because PKJ is the GOAT.

In the end, his relationship with the twins is built not only independently of his struggles with Jon, but the way he connects with them helps Clark realize that whats done is done. They need him to be Clark, not a man hanging onto the past he will never get back. To move forward, they must do it together, it won't work if the twins remain on Warworld and he remains mentally in Hamilton. Its why it is SUPER important, also, that in the end, Clark doesn't ask them to come with him- rather, they ask to go with Clark.

(Sidenote: The twins lost not only their parents on warworld, but an older brother, too. Clark isn't the only one who finds a healing way forward via the Ra-El relationships, but that's gonna be another post!) And their hero names, Red Son and Starchild, are from their original culture (the Phaelosians), a culture that was systematically robbed from them when Warworld trafficked them into service. Rather than forcing them to conform to the house of El and their legacy, they help the kids reconnect.

These are his children. They found each other in the scariest place in the universe, and together, they find a way past the things they've both suffered through.

I'm afraid I don't know much about Kara (kara mutuals, reading recs appreciated! i've only ever read WOT and a few issues of the most recent Supergirl run) but I do know that her relationship to Clark is inherently different than it was supposed to be, and she has to roll with it and redefine it accordingly. She was supposed to be older than him, be able to take care of him, but by the time she actually finds him, he's the one doing that for her.

(I dont really have a panel here I fear, so look at the pretty art from Woman of Tomorrow. If someone wants to say more on Kara, you're welcome to hijack my post for a bit!)

Kenan is an example of this theme going kind of sideways and being examined from another angle- He's forced to choose between his two found families, and with either choice, he stands to lose something. Either his connection to Superman, or his connection to home:

Kenan already has a messy relationship with family, considering the soap opera level drama his parents inflict on him in his solo. Now, separated from his culture by circumstances he can't control, Kenan's relationship with the Superfam is forced by circumstance, even as it isn't unwanted. He's forced to make the most of what he has.

Then you have Clark and Jon, where the 'and define your relationship to them' part of my thematic statement REALLY becomes important.

I've seen it argued many times that giving Jon the Superman mantle weakens the theme of found family, but I'd argue it strengthens it, because Jon not having a choice in becoming Superman is EXPLICITLY framed as a bad thing.

Jon's not ready to be Superman. He doesn't even really WANT to be superman. But because of the circumstances of his birth, the world, and his father, push him into it. Clark never asked Jon to be Superman, during the Son-of-kal-el + Warworld era. He assumed he would be.

It tarnishes Clark & Jon's relationship, actively preventing Jon from connecting with his father and the WORLD fully in the way they both want. This is a key theme of Superman: Son of Kal El, from the very moment of Jon's actual birth:

All throughout post-age up Jon is the idea that Jon is just as burdened by the expectations placed upon him by his blood as he is comforted by what the mantle represents.

(I know I use this panel like every analysis but its a GOOD PANEL, SHUT UP) And there's of course the fact that... y'know. Well. Y'know.

Y'KNOW.

I think there's a potentially strong story in either Jon walking away from the mantle entirely, or redefining it to be his own. But first, he's going to have to suffer for the fact he wasn't ready for what many people call his DESTINY, including his abuser.

And where does this leave Jon and Clark?

Here.

The last note before Absolute Power of these two is this bittersweet moment where Jon still isn't fully heard. Where he still doesn't get a full say in what he and Clark's relationship will be. And judging by THIS interview from Mark Waid, this particular idea is about to finally come home to roost:

Lastly, there's of course the Most Found Family Thing Of All that i basically see NO one talk about: The fact that the Irons and the Kents just. Share all their big life events with each other. They're literally not related to each other by blood at all, but throughout PKJ's Action Comics, they ARE family!

Teamwork makes the dreamwork guys!

The superfamily is a wonderfully diverse cluster of relationships and examinations of the way family finds each other. Even moreso than the Batfam, which is often defined by their father-son relationship with Bruce in fanon, the Superfam displays a wide array of the various ways non-nuclear families can build each other.

This is all to say you guys should read PKJ's action comics run. It rules.

(This is also to say Superman 2016 sucks ass.)

[pastelwoolfie]

im exhausted and borderline tipsy rn but. ratchet. ratchet hnnng. ratchet’s love language is acts of service and physical touch (i’ll get to that)

acts of service? absolutely. he’s a medic. it is his job and life’s passion to heal people - be it from injuries, aches, or whatever else is ailing them. ratchet shows people he loves them by doing things for them, giving them things to make their lives easier. improving them.

ratchet receives love through physical touch. he spends so long among technology, lifeless tools and liquids, using his servos to heal the bodies of others, that when people make physical contact with him it’s foreign, almost. receiving touch, to him, is unusual. but he’s used to touch being in relation to healing - that’s what he uses his for - and the ‘oddity’ of actually being on the receiving end of physical contact gets it through his (sometimes) dense processor - this person cares. they care and they love and they hold you like you hold them, as something that is worth devotion and time and energy. once he gets used to the touch (he was totally touch-starved at some point lololol), it becomes a comfort to him.

we’ve all heard of bee, cuddlebug extraordinaire, but get ready for ratchet, world renown little spoon. he’s just an itsy bitsy lil guy. don’t get me fucking started on pet names. my love?? my dear?? ratch. darling. SWEETSPARK?? BELOVED?? uuurgg optiratch my fucking beloved oh my god i live themmmm like hrrrr awooga my BABIES

[fubblers]

People are so rude to me when I say I like mithrun. They act like I’m some kind of horny gay shipper woman hater. It’s so wild.

Mithrun became my top tier blorbo because of his disability and how it relates to people around him.

He is high support needs while in the dungeon. I shouldn’t need to explain to people that not being able to eat, bathe, or toilet oneself is a disability. But somehow people still say “what? He’s disabled?”

Even though he is high support needs, he is incredibly independent and respected in canon. No one uses his disability against him. No one sees him as lesser because of it.

I have a chronic condition that is degenerative. The timeline is unclear but I may be high support needs before I reach my elder years. I may be unable to do basic life tasks without a caretaker.

Seeing a character be high support needs but be beloved by his team, develop relationships with new people, and find space for hope and healing means everything to me.

So if strangers I meet online or at anime cons could stop treating me like an icky fujo misogynist boy kisser when I say I like Mithrun that’d be really cool. That’d be so awesome.

[thefirstknife]

The Thread Unfurls Against the Clocks: Saint-14 and how we saved him

Hello. It's time. I already did one summary of how we saved Saint, but I want to go even more in-depth because I later realised that so much of this is unavailable and also happened so long ago that most people don't even know where to look for it and what to look for. I also want to address all the adjacent lore like the stuff about the Sundial and also how it all relates to the current plot.

Finally, I want this to serve as an explanation that there's something very weird going on and that the Saint we have is the real Saint. I've seen people already super resigned after this week's story, simply accepting that there was a reveal that he is truly the "wrong" Saint. I want to analyse all we have on Saint in-depth and focus on how we saved him to show the level of detail involved because I think it's important to understand things in the episode.

Obviously, really compelling lore changes can happen and work out, but in this case I'm just not feeling it, for various reasons. We'll see, but I still think this is worth putting together and that we have plenty of indications that we saved him "correctly" so to speak.

Saint is a unanimously beloved character and one that is so closely linked to our player character as well. The setup for his return was established so long ago and was kept consistent the entire time. I feel like the stuff in Echoes is almost like a culmination of it all, as well as a reminder about what we've done. We'll suffer for a bit for sure but there is no doubt in my mind that Saint will come from this safe and healed. No matter what ends up being revealed, I believe he will be fine.

Contents! Long post under. Spoilers for Echoes Act 2, mostly just in the Echoes section.

Intro

Curse of Osiris quest

Season of Dawn

What's up with the Sundial?

Echoes

Intro

I'm not sure how familiar people are with the full scope of Saint-14, but he's been a character since the beginning. We didn't know much about him at all; the first mention was in vanilla D1 in this grimoire about the Darkness, listing what various characters think about it. Saint's thoughts:

Saint-14's Position argues that the Darkness was an invading armada, an alien force of incredible - but tangible - power. Some adherents believe that this armada sprang from species rejected or discarded by the Traveler for their sins.

All things considered, he wasn't that far off! Really cool detail, but this lore was referenced in TFS, in the lore book Chirality, and especially Saint's bit:

* Saint-14's Position is the most eminently practical of the bunch, no matter how the man himself protests that such an obvious facet of the truth doesn't require a formal philosophical stance to be named for him.

There's 10 years separating these lore pieces! But they're still being referenced because there are some incredible nerds writing this.

This doesn't tell us much about Saint, besides that he's thinking in very practical terms. He views the Darkness as something that can be fought back. Note that at the start we don't know anything else about him, not even if he's a Guardian. In House of Wolves, we get this lore where the author (the Speaker) is going off about Osiris. We get a little piece about Saint; Saint-14 suggested that Osiris should become Vanguard Commander and also vouched for Osiris. This was the first piece of info that these two are familiar with each other. How far we've come since!

After that, we get his helmet as an exotic in The Taken King (though it has no lore other than the flavour text) and a little bit of insight into him with the first proper lore tab that actually features him as a character. It shows his iconic headbutt and ends with him deciding to follow Osiris to Mercury. A few little details are mentioned in flavour text on the following items, mostly quotes about or from Saint: 1, 2, 3, 4. Number 3 is interesting:

"Stand with your back to the Wall, and not even the Darkness itself will move you." —Saint-14

Remember that!

There's a few more in Rise of Iron, again, just flavour text. He's really funny here, and being his usual heroic self here. That's it for his stuff in D1. Saint-14 was some sort of historic figure, he was a Titan, he fought in historic battles, he fought against the Eliksni and he had some sort of connection with the Speaker and Osiris. He was a practical man, a warrior and a protector.

He wasn't really a full character or anything and only had a few quotes and one lore tab where he actually does something. But the stage was set! He was clearly a character they wanted to explore and they did, in Curse of Osiris.

Curse of Osiris quest

Curse of Osiris returned his helmet as an exotic item and immediately gave us hints about the expansion of Saint-14's character and where they're leading him. The lore tab on the exotic is a conversation between Cayde-6 and Lord Shaxx where Cayde-6 insists that Saint is not dead, while Shaxx is just kind of resigned to it. Cayde also notes that Saint was a "weirdo:"

C6: No one ever put down a Kell faster than he could. But man, he was a real weirdo. SX: Eccentricity was his strength. C6: Talking about the Speaker like you're related to him is eccentric. Claiming he's seen the future, that he fought Six Fronts fueled on the idea that some Guardian savior is coming? That's insane.

Wait a minute. Saint-14 claimed he's seen the future and that he believed in "some Guardian savior"? What's that about? Wink wink. Nudge nudge. To make things even more obvious, the remaining conversation is... about the Young Wolf:

SX: Belief is a hell of a thing. C6: Sure, yeah. One Guardian's going to fix everything. Kick Crota off the Moon. Make it look like us Vanguard know our head from our hindquarters. Hey, where are you going? SX: One of the new recruits from Old Russia I've had my eye on—entering the Crucible for the first time. C6: Hey, maybe they're the one. We'll call 'em Crota's End.

Maybe Cayde should've started making prophecies too! But yeah. This was the first proper hint about what they cooked up for Saint's story. Saint has apparently seen the future and believed in a "Guardian savior" and he fought for the City fuelled by this belief. Very interesting! To make things weirder, there's Saint-14's Gray Pigeon which also features some strange lore at the end where Saint addresses an unknown person:

To my inspiration. Your final gift to me I now send back to you. It will be good to see you again.

This was wild to read at the time because it clearly references something that we don't know about, but that's incredibly important to Saint. The theory was that he might be talking to us, the Young Wolf, but how?

That's where the quest comes in. Curse famously didn't have a lot of content, but it did have the post-campaign quest with Lost Prophecies. They were a set of quests where we essentially had to collect items to transform "prophecy tablets" into weapons in the Infinite Forge which was a sort of interactable area in the Lighthouse on Mercury:

There were a total of 11 of these, with the final one being to acquire the Perfect Paradox. Each weapon came with a prophecy in the flavour text and a lore tab. The final one however, Perfect Paradox, triggered a whole separate quest in two parts. In part one, we discover an old Vanguard comm signal coming from the Forest which we follow and analyse to discover that the signal is from Saint-14.

Detecting traces of familiar Light up here. Wait… Saint-14? He's been missing for decades. Saint was one of the greatest Titans who ever lived. Hero of Six Fronts. All that power and he just… vanished. The City's still looking for him.

This quest also features this conversation from Osiris and Sagira:

Osiris: If Saint-14 is lost in the Infinite Forest, it's because he came here to find us. Sagira: You can't blame yourself for every missing Guardian, Osiris. Osiris: For him I can.

If you're lucky (or unlucky, depending on how many emotions this gives you), you can hear this line from Sagira in Presage. This is where it comes from!

The quest is kinda set up in a way to make you think we'll actually be saving Saint here. We finally found his comm signal and it's leading us into the Forest. He's clearly affected the Vex and the Forest with his Light and he's fighting back. Osiris gets involved and urges us to find him. The whole thing feels like we're doing what we usually do; find a problem and fix it.

Part two of the quest continues in a similar vein. The quest is called "Not even the Darkness," btw. Remember that quote from Saint from The Taken King? Yeah. Anyway, we go back to following the trace leading us to Saint, into the Infinite Forest, this time into a simulated future. There, the Vex get alerted and summon a big Minotaur; Hagios, Reverent Mind (whose name means "sacred" in Greek, so essentially... Saint). We kill the Minotaur and then the area behind it opens; it appears to have been guarding it.

When it opens, we're treated to a bittersweet sight:

The area is beautiful, but it's a tomb. Saint-14's body is laid out like this in a pillar of light, surrounded by piles and piles of dead Vex. The Vex fought him for an unknown amount of time and they ended up respecting him; enough to create a tomb and seal his body and set a whole Vex mind to guard it, and apparently, revere it. Despite how hopeful we've been about saving him, he is dead.

As we approach his body, we take the remains of his personal weapon. Back at the Lighthouse, we use these remains and the prophecy to craft the weapon as it was; Perfect Paradox shotgun. The prophecy attached to it:

A tale that's different from the rest: the thread unfurls against the clocks. The one the Speaker loved the best must have a perfect paradox.

The prophecy is from Osiris, of course, which means that at some point when he was making them, he already knew about the strange fate of Saint-14. Not that he is dead; Osiris hoped to find him in the Forest. But his prophecy talks about time travel and a paradox. In the lore tab itself, Saint attached a letter to the gun in which he once again addresses a mysterious person. This person is now definitively identified as us:

All I have left is this weapon. The Cryptarchs say you crafted it yourself, built it out of scraps and Light and sheer will, inside the Infinite Forge. I'll make sure it finds its way back to you.

Well that's correct. We crafted the weapon in the Infinite Forge. But we only did so after recovering its remains from Saint's body, so how could he have had the gun in the first place? Almost like... there's some sort of a time travel paradox involved. This was naturally bizarre at the time; we had nothing else on Saint or any of this during this quest, just these vague baffling hints that there's more to the story. Especially since it involves our character; Saint repeatedly talks as if he had already met us. He says so in the letter as well:

I mourn that I will never reach the heights you have. To me, you represent everything a Guardian can become. Yours is a thriving City. So different from mine. My whole fourteenth life I fought to make my City yours. I never finished.

He knows that our City is thriving and that we are "everything a Guardian can become." But we've never seen him before. This was really confusing and there was also not even a promise that it would be resolved. But it felt like something that they cared about deeply.

It would take 3 years until we got the resolution.

Season of Dawn

This is a big one in general because they really wanted to be as attentive to all details as possible. Even before the season started, they released several weblore pieces to remind us of Saint and bring up some important information.

The first one was The Accolade, about Saint's past and heroic deeds revolving around saving people. The weblore focuses on explaining what his "accolades" are; aka his purple ribbons on his armour and ship. They're gifts from people he saved; tokens of appreciation that turned into a type of a ritual with Saint. If you're saved by Saint, you have to give him something purple and he will wear it with him and remember your name. It ends with Osiris shortly after we found Saint's grave. Osiris went to see it for himself, to check, to make sure. He also laments that he never asked about the ribbons.

The next one is a glimpse into the past, a conversation between Osiris and Saint as Saint hands him the Vanguard Commander title. It's a good look into how that all happened, as well as the differences in approach and beliefs between Osiris and Saint.

And then they released The Sundial weblore (TW for suicide if you're reading the full weblore. One of his Echoes does not have a good time). Osiris is found on Mercury with a machine he built, putting finishing touches on it. It's called the Sundial. Osiris built it in response to Saint being dead, the implication very much being that he intends to use some form of time travel or some other time shenanigans to change the outcome and save him. Osiris never recovered from learning that he's dead and from seeing his dead body in the tomb. The design is Sagira's, and he's also helped by Drifter, who shows up to check the math. I'll go more into the Sundial later.

Osiris wraps up his work on it and turns it on. He splits into his Echoes and enters the machine to start searching through Saint's timeline on Mercury with the intent to find the right moment with the right Saint to save him; he is specifically looking for the moment when they drain his Light.

Osiris’s Echoes scour Saint-14’s timeline on Mercury. But the corridors of time refuse to give way to the moment they need: Saint and the Martyr Mind in the depths of the Infinite Forest. The Echoes work tirelessly for weeks, then months in the space between moments. In desperation, he splits the dozen copies into many thousands more as the work continues fruitlessly.

Osiris experiences what the kids these days call "epic fail."

None of the Echoes ever approaches a Saint. They never find the right one.

Despite all the work put into this machine and all of his knowledge and skill, Osiris doesn't manage to use the Sundial successfully. He never finds the right moment and he never saves him. It's worth noting that when Osiris used thousands of his Echoes, he experienced the time and life of every single one. But for Osiris outside the Sundial, it's only been a few moments. In those few moments, he essentially lived thousands of lifetimes. And died thousands of times. I need people to understand the amount of effort he put into this and what kind of an emotional toll it had.

Completely defeated, he gives up and hides the Sundial. He moves on with his life, doing what he always does, until stuff suddenly changes, which is explored in the next weblore: Actions of Mutual Friends. Us killing the Undying Mind in the season before Dawn changed everything, for the Vex and everyone else. We essentially created a point of divergence. The Vex suddenly had to change their projections of the future; Osiris noticed this and got very concerned.

While he wasn't looking, his Sundial was found, by Psion sisters. They figure out the potential of the Sundial and work to reactivate it, which they succeed in. The Red Legion descends on Mercury, looking to use the Sundial to essentially rewrite the course of the Red War and win.

Osiris finds out and goes to Ikora, to the City, to ask for help. This is the topic of the next weblore: Desperate Times. Osiris defends his choice to make the Sundial to save Saint, despite everybody else basically trying to explain to him that the universe might implode because of it.

This is a lot of setup, but it's necessary. It all leads into what happens in the season and what the season revolves around; saving Saint. It wasn't even a secret, as they very clearly showed it right away in the trailer (best trailer they've ever done). The seasonal gameplay revolved around us using the Sundial to defeat the Red Legion and stop them from trying to figure out how to essentially change the course of history. We had to fight three different Psion bosses, one of each of the sisters, until the end, when the three of them joined together into a single Psion entity for us to defeat.

As we were using the Sundial for this, Osiris also told us about what he made it for originally. He explains a little bit about it and about his failure to succeed, then warns us against using it for ourselves, but doesn't stop us.

I told you before - I tried to save Saint-14. I bent the rules of time using a prototype of the Sundial. It allowed me to walk the corridors of time here on Mercury. But I failed. I never found Saint's final moment against the Vex. I encountered younger versions from his first mission to Mercury, among others. But none were the right Saint. The prototype Sundial still exists, accessible off the main deck. And it can still travel through Saint's personal timeline on this planet. But venture there at your own peril. He cannot be saved. I have walked every permutation of those corridors with a hundred thousand of my Echoes and found nothing. Saint-14 is lost.

Despite this, we make the attempt and then the first part of the quest starts. When we use it, the Sundial reacts. It reacts specifically to the Perfect Paradox:

The Shotgun you crafted in the Infinite Forge is reacting to the Sundial! An onboard transponder is broadcasting coordinates: a path through the Sundial, crossing two time periods. The prophecy blueprint you used to create the Perfect Paradox must have included this broadcast. If you can open up the initial chamber, I can align us to the first time period the broadcast is referencing.

The two time periods are two points in time where it's relevant that we meed with Saint. The first one is in the Dark Age, when he came to Mercury with civilians in an attempt to reclaim the planet and help the struggling population of Earth with resources and possibly old Golden Age technologies. We connect to Saint via comms. He is devastated and demoralised. He failed to protect his people and he's also under siege by the Eliksni and is more or less resigned to dying. Lucky for him, we get there in time to help him out of this situation.

After the battle, we talk to him. Our Ghost hesitates a little but then decides to do it anyway; he shows Saint the projection of the Last City from the future, to prove to him that the everything will be fine if he continues to fight and stays hopeful. We also give him the Perfect Paradox, to help him fight. The loop is set! This gun was crafted in the future and was brought to the past. In time, Saint will die with it and we will pick up its remains from his body, allowing us to craft it in the first place.

Saint-14: What is this? Ghost: The Perfect Paradox. Built by my Guardian out of spare parts and Light and sheer will to aid you.

More importantly, this is the moment that Saint spoke of to other people that made him seem crazy. As we've seen in lore from years before, Saint kept saying that he saw a thriving City and that there's some sort of Guardian savior coming and that he's seen this future. He also wrote in that letter how we gave him the shotgun and how we saved him. This part of the quest is constructed around this lore. This moment is what Saint remembered and talked about. We saved him and invigorated his will to keep going. This is why he is the way he is.

We part ways and leave the Sundial. Ghost immediately goes to check if we messed anything up and to let us know that there's one more point in time to go to:

Okay, let's check the Tower databases to make sure we didn't just wreck the entire timeline. Queuing "Saint-14"… Records state he was a former Commander of the Tower. He vanished on a final mission to Mercury in search of the exiled Warlock Osiris. Well, those are the big beats. Timeline intact. Good job, Saint. But our trip's not over. That broadcast I picked off the Perfect Paradox marked one more set of coordinates within the Sundial.

The second part of the quest started a bit later, but it doesn't waste any time once it does. We're immediately linked up to the other point in time that Perfect Paradox reacted to and we're back in simulated future, in the same area where back in Curse we fought Hagios who guarded the entry to Saint's tomb. Except now, we find Saint who has just had his Light drained from him by another Vex mind; Agioktis, Martyr Mind (note that the name is more or less in the same vein as "hagios," aka "sacred," dedicated to Saint). This is the moment Osiris was looking for, but couldn't find it, because he didn't have the Perfect Paradox.

This is the Vex mind they built to destroy Saint and we find him as his Light has already been taken. But Saint is still eager to fight and greets us happily. Unfortunately Saint is then restrained, the Vex doing everything in their power to kill him. However, this time he's not alone. We're there and we fight in his stead. We manage to piss off the Martyr Mind enough for it to now move to restrain us, which frees Saint, returning his Light to him as well. Saint then delivers the final blow to the Martyr Mind which frees us!

Saint-14: It's been a long time, my friends. I've chased your memory for centuries. You should go now. Those who could kill me are dead. You've made sure of that. Ghost: And what if the Vex take your Light again? Saint-14: Impossible. It cost them everything to build the Martyr Mind. When you crushed it, they were doomed. Ghost: You want us to leave you? You'll be stuck here for years. Saint-14: You've both done plenty. Just open the Infinite Forest gate for me. I'll meet you the long way around, at the entrance. Saint-14: What's a few more years of fighting Vex?

Saint decides to stay in the Forest and wait until we open it from the outside for him, in the future. This is how he leaves in the right time, instead of too early for his timeline, so nothing else is really affected. He waits it out and then exits the Forest at the time of Season of Dawn. This gives us one of the shortest but also the best cutscenes ever. As a note, in the cutscene, when Saint leaves, the Forest gate looks new, like from Mercury's past. This is because of the Sundial's effects on the surface of Mercury at the time, splitting the surface through time, so the Forest gate looked like it's from the past, but it's not. It's present day Mercury.

When we report this to Osiris, to say that he's amazed would be an understatement. I often quoted this from him, especially when people were being weird about Osiris and claiming he doesn't like us or whatever:

In his youth, he talked often about the Guardian who inspired him. I should have guessed it would be you.

We've done the impossible. Literally. The quest is called "Impossible Task." Osiris did everything and he couldn't do it and he lost hope that it would be done. But we did it, because we created the time loop; a connection with Saint that allowed us to use the Sundial in a way Osiris could not.

Saint has been saved! After this, he settled in the Tower. He had a series of minor quests and errands, the best one being the quest for the Devil's Ruin exotic which featured a really long and funny conversation between Saint and Shaxx. Another one is obviously the Corridors of Time quest which is genuinely cannot be compared to anything else as it was a community puzzle of epic proportions. An article that showcases just a little bit of how bonkers it was.

The important part of it is that the culmination of the quest featured us finding our own grave and Saint narrating a eulogy for us. This is important to us now for two reasons: 1) on our grave was a sword, a sword we received as an actual item in TFS, directly from the Traveler to fight the Witness 2) it's possibly a different timeline. The second one is unclear because we simply can't know when we die, but the eulogy specifies that the sword was shattered in the final confrontation where we died. Our current sword is chipped, and it wasn't when we originally got it in the campaign. So either this is a different timeline where it didn't shatter or this isn't that confrontation when we die and it will shatter at some other point in the future.

In this post I also noted how the music that plays in our grave scene and the music that played in TFS when we get the sword is the same. A very clear and deliberate choice. This is a very cool link to Season of Dawn that they brought back over 4 years later.

With the Corridors of Time puzzle ending and the Corridors closing, that concluded the Saint stuff. He was finally saved and he could rest in the Tower! And we know everything that has happened since.

Okay. So...

What's up with the Sundial?

We don't know! But I want to get into it because it's one of those things that they made sure to hint about, without fully explaining it so obviously every weird nerd online (me) wants to figure it out.

Back in The Sundial weblore, there are some peculiar and never explained details about the Sundial that have been kinda concerning and just intriguing to think about. There are a few lines essentially saying that whatever is at its core, it's not good. First is Sagira's:

“That work was theoretical! If the Vanguard find out what you did to build it—“

What did he do to build it? No clue. The infamous core is described only as:

He turned to look at the fluctuating glow of the exposed chronometric core.

When the Drifter shows up, he immediately reacts to this, fairly negatively which makes things more ominous since Drifter tangles with a lot of weird and bad stuff himself. So if he's disturbed about this...:

Drifter walked to the central spire and put his ear up against it. “This core…” he said, leaning close. His eyes darted back to Osiris. “It’s whispering.” Osiris’s expression didn’t change; his arms didn’t uncross. “We’ll seal the core away. I understand the ramifications.” “Good luck keeping that contained. Not something I would bargain with, hotshot.”

The core "whispers." Osiris understands the ramifications. They're both so frustratingly vague so the only thing we're left with is this ominous vibe of something bad being at the center of the Sundial.

This whispering, alongside a few other concerning descriptions and implications of the Sundial is mentioned in yet another weblore that I only briefly mentioned earlier because it wasn't relevant to Saint stuff; Sisters. It's about the Psions finding the machine.

The Psions could somehow feel the Sundial. Or perhaps just the effects it had on time on Mercury, even while it was powered down and hidden.

“Small disturbances,” said oldest Ozletc, the wisest. “Little currents in this timeline. Can you see them, sister?” “I can taste them,” said second-born Tazaroc, the hungriest of her sisters. “I can feel the edges.” Third-born Niruul, the quietest among them, reached her hand out to test the air. “As can I,” said she. “And something else. The source is disguised. The technology is Human, but refined. Surprisingly so.”

They also note the whispering, as well as its potential:

A strange device shimmered into existence around them. They looked up the length of an enormous, golden spire. “It whispers,” said Tazaroc. “Then block your ears,” said Ozletc. “Do you see the potential in this?” “Chaos,” said Niruul. “No,” said Ozletc. “Opportunity. See how it tugs at the fabric of our time? Can you see the seams?”

They also make the strange comparison to the OXA:

“It is so clear,” said Niruul, reverent. “An unobstructed glimpse into what was and what will be.” “Not the troubled ramblings of a mad thing, like the OXA,” said Tazaroc.

The Sundial offered something more and better than the OXA ever could, implying, perhaps, that these machines have something in common; possibly something beyond simply Vex technology. My insanity about this has been going on for a long time and also helped with the TFS CE lore. A bit of a tangent, but also possibly related, depending on what the core is.

Furthermore, Osiris refused to tell Saint about details of the Sundial, including remaining vague about its core in this weblore:

[u.2:13] One is a manifestation of Light. The other… reserved for Taken Kings. Better suited for traversing the Sundial because of what lies at its core. [u.1:14] One day you’ll have to tell me exactly what you and the Guardian did to bring me back. [u.2:14] We did what we had to. Trust me.

So what is it? Well, we know:

It whispers (very obvious and easily detected, both by Drifter and the Psions)

It's something bad (Drifter's reaction to it is uncharacteristic for a man who tangles with the Taken for a living and deals with strange dangerous artifacts all the time)

Osiris' Echoes are better suited for the Sundial because of its core, and Echoes are something "reserved for Taken Kings." Bizarre way of saying it to avoid explaining it

Similar to the OXA, and possibly any other time/prediction machines based on Vex tech (because the OXA itself is confirmed to be more or less the same as the FWC Device, for example)

To recharge it, we needed to feed it Light. This is particularly concerning with what Osiris says about it: "The Sundial is my greatest creation and my greatest regret. What I had to do to forge it I can never take back. As a result, it has components that consume Light. And if you're serious about operating it again, you'll need to feed it. Nothing is free. Ever."

What this points to, to me at least, is Darkness. The core is a Darkness artifact of some sort, merged with Vex tech. This only gained more proof to me with all the new lore about the Darkness and how it governs the mind and memory, especially when the Vex are involved. To the Vex, the future is memory. Merging Darkness artifacts with the Vex might be able to create dangerous time travel machines or machines that displace consciousness through time and timelines, like the OXA and the Device, allowing the user to "predict."

To make things even more convoluted (and me more insane), there's an almost perfect explanation for what this artifact might be. So perfect that I feel like it's too good to be true, tbh. It's a Nezarec relic. I will now list everything that connects this:

It would explain the Darkness artifact. Nezarec's relics were full of Darkness and were being used by utilising that Darkness

Drifter's involvement and experience with it. Hell, the Drifter may have even provided this relic to Osiris, since he had one and did not particularly enjoy having it, which was detailed in Lightfall when they showed us how he got it. Plunder was also rich on this, showing us that the Drifter immediately recognised the relics and understood what they were.

Whispering. Darkness in general has a whispering thing; the Veiled statues, the Witness, the old stories about Dredgen Yor, there's a lot of whispering going on here. But it's really super connected to Nezarec. His relics were whispering to us in the H.E.L.M.. The glaive? Nezarec's Whisper. Another disciple also called him a "whispering Nightmare." All of Root of Nightmares armour lore has it as well, with Nezarec tormenting his victims with whispers; for example here, and here, and maybe even here. I could go on. He's the whisper guy. Literally, Nimbus called him Mr. Whispers.

Psions. The Psion sisters found and reactivated the Sundial... Somehow. They especially were able to almost instinctively locate it despite Osiris hiding it well enough. The Psions also needed quite a lot of time to activate it again and admired the complexity of the encryption, despite it being human, so we can't really say that they found it easily because Osiris' did a poor job of hiding it. Were they drawn to it? Were they drawn to it because of its core? Psions are inherently linked to Nezarec. It's been confirmed back in Lightfall, but also curiously mentioned again in TFS with the Lost Ghosts quest (timestamped here). I'm definitely hoping for some Psion content in the future but this is fairly interesting in this context. Season of Dawn was really the only proper Psion-focused storyline.

Osiris' coma. His coma appears to have been somehow paracausal. At least strange! The scans were showing that he has "no residual activity" in his brain, despite us having lore from his POV showing us that he had a very vivid and visceral activity. He was able to feel some external stimuli, but was mostly drifting through strange visions, seemingly hopping between his... Reflections. Or possibly Echoes. His final thoughts here are also of the Sundial; as if his mind was somehow stuck in there, or lost, trying to find his way out of it. This could just be a consequence of his memories constructing something for him to experience so obviously it's just cycling through what he knows, but...

Waking Osiris up from his coma happens with the use of Nezarec's relics. An important point to note here is that this wasn't so much about it being Nezarec's relics; it had more to do with the inherent Darkness they consist of and Darkness can help the mind and consciousness move or awaken. However, given all of this and given his POV from the coma and the possibility that his mind might have been stuck somewhere with his Echoes in the Sundial, if the Sundial's core is a Nezarec relic, then a Nezarec relic had more chance to bring him back. It's such a perfect connection that I feel insane thinking about it and it feels like I'm constructing a fanfic, but also. I think it's worth considering. Cutscene of him waking up + article from Bungie that details on the whole idea of waking him up with Darkness and why that's important for understanding Darkness.

I have to mention the other theory, especially in comparison with all the above to try and illustrate why it never made sense to me and that is the popular theory that the core of the Sundial is an Ahamkara bone and that the Sundial worked on wish magic.

I'm not quite sure why this was even a theory to be honest. Even back in the day of Dawn, this never really resonated with me because it seems that the only reason this was a theory was Drifter saying "not something I would bargain with" and... Possibly whispers? Obviously a lot of things can whisper, and Ahamkara have been also mentioned doing so, but I don't find this significant to Ahamkara enough for identification just through that. I also don't think that one mention of the word "bargain" is enough either. Many have bargained with Darkness too. There's simply an overlap between Darkness and Ahamkara here, but there are also other pieces that are more closely linked to Darkness like eating Light. We could go even further, if we're considering Ahamkara; we could also consider Worm Gods, for example. The point is that several things can fit here, but I feel like there's overall more things pointing at Darkness.

What gets me the most is that they alluded to this in Season of the Wish, in what seems fairly obvious as disproving this theory to me. Riven and Osiris talk:

Riven: Isn’t it unfortunate your City hunted down all of my kind, Osiris? You might have wished for Saint-14’s return from the Forest. Osiris: And have him trade the Vex’s torment for yours? Riven: Perhaps you simply didn’t want him back badly enough to pay the price. Osiris: Save the bait for someone naïve enough to take it.

I talked about this earlier, but there's several layers of why the moment I heard this, it sounded like it's here to disprove Osiris using an Ahamkara. First, Ahamkara wish magic would be felt by Riven. If Osiris put an Ahamkara into the Sundial, then he did use wish magic and she would know about it. In that case she would not have said this; perhaps she would've teased him about using her powers to save Saint, but that would be a completely different sentence.

Second, Osiris is well aware and wary of wish magic. He knows that had he done so, he would've probably put some form of torment (wish magic backfire) on Saint. This, to me, indicates that not only did he not do this, he didn't even consider it as an option.

Third, if Osiris had an Ahamkara bone and was considering to use it, he could've just done so without building the Sundial. Why bother with the machine if you can just instantly make a wish and the wish doing exactly as you want? Obviously with a caveat, but still. It would've worked right away. Perhaps the Sundial was an attempt to contain the backfire, mixing wish magic with Vex tech to try and prevent the whole thing from going backwards, but even then; Osiris knew there are possible consquences.

And fourth, even if he did all that, it just didn't work, which would be quite uncharacteristic for wish magic. It's paracausal; it should override any Vex tech in the Sundial. If he made a wish, he should ask for a refund! The Sundial worked only because of the paracausal loop we created with the Perfect Paradox and it had nothing to do with anyone's wishes; definitely not ours.

One interesting thing for this theory is the way they said how similar wishing and simulations are. It happened in Wish and now again in Echoes. Here's a freebie for the Ahamkara theory enthusiasts.

Personally though, I simply feel like there's much more connecting and sensible explanation with it being a Darkness relic, rather than Ahamkara.

HOWEVER. The truth is that we simply don't know. I am personally more into it being Darkness (and Nezzy specifically), but I could be wrong and the Ahamkara theory could be proven correct somehow. Hell, it could be something completely different. It could also be nothing; as in, we will never know because they won't tell us because it doesn't matter.

And technically, it doesn't! Nothing really changes if this doesn't get answered. I want that to be clear. This isn't some sort of lore breaking detail. But you know. The nerds would love to know. I really wanted to get into this now that we've had a resurgence in interest about Saint and how we saved him.

Echoes

Okay, so why this monster of an essay? Well, because Echoes revolves around Saint and the Conductor trying to convince him that he's the wrong Saint. That Osiris acted out of grief and pulled a random Saint from the timelines, that he's simply satisfied with what he got because he couldn't get his original Saint because that Saint died.

Saint is convinced in this; that he's some sort of an aberration in the timeline, a simulation or a copy or just the wrong Saint from the wrong timeline. Even an error that must be corrected.

And I simply think that people are too quick to jump to the conclusion that this is the story being told, especially because of the radio message this week where we're shown that Saint and Osiris suddenly have different memories. But I feel like people have already forgotten the other radio message, from week 1. You know, the one where Saint and Osiris talk about their memories and the memories match perfectly:

Saint-14: Osiris. Do you remember when we knew? Osiris: Knew what? Saint-14: That we were meant to be together. There was one moment... though, it took us time to get to it. Oh, but our Hunter Vanguard, so smart, Tallulah... she knew before we did. All our little squabbles and bickering. She saw it first. Osiris: it, uh — ah, well, I was — obtuse. Stubborn. I couldn't recognize my own emotions. Then, Tallulah told me to.. "Be serious". Saint-14: Haha! I remember. So yes, she told me later. Was good laugh. Osiris: Well, I'm glad you found it so amusing. Saint-14: Who could not look back and smile? And I remember your smile, then. So knowing, and so full of our future together. Osiris: What brought these memories on? Saint-14: Hmm. I think about others who will have those same moments now that they know they will a future free from the Black Fleet. Now they have a chance to find love and be happy, like us. We can look behind, but also forward. We cannot see what is coming, but we know it is good. Osiris: You're certain? Saint-14: About us? Yes. Since the beginning. Now, and always.

We have this memory as a lore tab as well. I think this was given to us deliberately, to show us that Saint and Osiris have identical memories and that Saint's memories were never in question and that their history is perfectly aligned... Until he got yoked. Something changed when he got yoked, not when he was saved. This is a new development, which tells me that the Conductor did something to him, rather than Osiris saving the wrong Saint. Because until now, this was never a problem. Saint never had discrepancies in his memories before, with anyone he ever interacted with.

If we take a look at the whole story of how he was returned, it's beyond clear that Osiris was very fixated on saving his Saint, not a random one, and that we went to great lengths to do just that. We only ever interacted with one Saint, the same one, and we linked each other with the Perfect Paradox. It cannot be any other Saint, even with the existence of other timelines. This Saint and this Perfect Paradox are ours, from our timeline, the originals.

However, other timelines do exist. And some entities can access them. The Vex are obviously first on the list. Characters like Elsie and Osiris have also seen them. And clearly, the Conductor should be capable of this as well. It's beyond clear now that the Conductor is Maya Sundaresh. Maya, who was simulated 227 times by the Vex and had those 227 copies of her wandering the Vex network and different timelines.

If the Conductor knows where to look and how, she could see these timelines, including these other Saints, and she could've fed Saint false information while he was yoked. Implanting memories of other Saints perhaps, or something similar.

I know a lot of people weren't there for Dawn, let alone Curse. There's a lot of information about Saint here and a lot of really interesting clues from the past about what's happening now. It's also really interesting how many little details have been transferred through the story over time, showing that this is a plotline they care about very much and want to make sure doesn't get messed up.

There's probably a lot more stuff we could get into for speculation and explanations because there's still more stuff that plays a role in this. The Infinite Forest is a big one, and I suspect the Perfect Paradox is as well, as we're likely to get it next week or the week after as part of the story. Because it should be relevant to the story! It's an inherent part of Saint's story and why he's with us now in the first place.

So what's really going on? We're not entirely sure yet, but assuming that the Conductor is correct and that her messing with Saint is revealing something about Saint's legitimacy is I believe wrong. I think she's using him as an experiment and that she's messing with him, and by extension, with us as well. There's no way that we've had a "wrong" Saint this whole time and that nobody ever had any issues with him. That nobody had any discrepancies between memories with him. Not Osiris, not Ikora, not Shaxx, not Saladin, not Zavala or anyone else Saint interacted with since he's been back. As I mentioned, literally the first radio message shows us Saint and Osiris with matching memories.

It only started after he was yoked. Which means that the yoke and the Conductor did something to him, possibly shown him some other timelines or fed him false information.

Can't wait to see where this is going. I'm not sure how much this Act will cover and if we'll get a resolution to this right now or if it will stretch to Act 3, though if it doesn't get stretched, then I wonder what will the draw of Act 3 even be. Possibly just dealing with the Conductor? I'm very excited. This episode being so focused on Saint and Osiris and the whole throwbacks to Dawn and other past content has been really good. I'm enjoying it very much, this is my entire jam. I had high hopes for Echoes and so far it's been going great.

I'm super excited to see how they solve this and what comes of it and how much of this information will be relevant. And of course, if it will end up being correct! Because as much as I have my theories and as much as I'm convinced that there's something off here and that our Saint cannot be the wrong Saint, I could still be wrong. Looking forward to finding out!

[the-s1lly-corner]

Hi, I'm not sure if you requests are open but I'd like to ask for a Lucifer Morningstar x oblivious! fem! reader. He met her when he visited the hotel and was immediately intrigued when Charlie told him that she was a a fallen angel. Later on he decides to court her but she is oblivious to his advances. Fluff! Have a good day/night!

Lucifer x fallen angel!oblivious!reader

I kinda wanna make pretzels... hmmm

Notes: reader is fem, crushing rather than an established relationship

CW: none

ah yes the obvious x oblivious trope, my beloved!

i do think lucifer has a lot of mixed feelings about... well the entire thing! im subscribed to the idea that hes not totally over lilith; whether he still loves her in some capacity, or if hes still healing from the separation... on top of that hes already on the fence about you due to you being a fallen angel

on one hand, youre probably down here for a reason even if its unfair, and he can relate to that. on the other hand... what if youre not like him and youre... not so nice

dont get me wrong there is some interest there, hes still curious to get to know you since he cant remember the last time hes seen another fallen angel

i dont think he would instantly go in flirting with you, though, even if there were to be a crush developing

slowburn more than anything

but when it gets to the point where hes comfortable testing the waters, and to start making attempts to flirt with you?

he thought he was being obvious, and to everyone else he is! pathetically so actually... its been so long since hes been in the dating scene that hes lost his touch a little

hes rusty! give him a break! he hasnt dated someone new in HOW long? new relationships are stressful as is!

even hes a little shocked at how oblivious you are

its a little endearing, even if it can get a little frustrating at times

it does push him to be more direct with his feelings, at least! both internally and externally... so in a way your obliviousness helps in the long run!

[lovedreamer11]

Big anti hotdrhaenyra. HBO will never make me betray canon Rhaenyra.

Now the opinion is actively spreading that people showed their true colors after the release of the sixth episode of the second season of hotd. And that supposedly those who are unhappy with the changes made to the characters in the show, especially Rhaenyra, are not true fans of her and such actions insult the canon.

But I will reveal the truth. Just the opposite is true. The Rhaenyra from the show is not the real Rhaenyra. This is a faceless, stupid, selfish character.

The real Rhaenyra is a completely different person. Proud, hot-tempered, vindictive. She's not perfect. But she is more like a real person with real flaws.

Rhaenyra never had any problems with her gender. She was a woman, she admitted it. The Queen did not envy Daemon and did not dream of being born a man. Rhaenyra admired Visenya, but she was not her and did not try to become her.

I love that she didn’t care at all about the court’s opinion of her personal life, because she didn’t even try to pretend that she and Laenor were a married couple when she allowed her husband to live his life on Driftmark, surrounded by his favourites.

Rhaenyra was not a crazy nymphomaniac who fucked everything that moved. There is a possibility that their marriage to Laenor was never consummated, and sexual relations with Criston are refuted by all sources. In her life were: the father of her three children, Harwin, there is a possibility that there was Laena (I don’t really think it true, but this theory is very popular so let’s count it) and Daemon.

She really could love. Rhaenyra sent her husband to kill the man who dared to insult her sons. Rhaenyra's grief for Luke was so great that she fainted at the news of his death and did not take part in the war council. One of the factors that exacerbated the queen's paranoia was the deaths of Jace and Viserys, to which was added the alleged betrayal of her husband.

Rhaenyra insisted that Laena be cared for after her difficult birth by her personal maester, renowned for his healing skills, and she wanted Gerardys to care for Viserys' health. Out of love for her father, she did not cause any harm to Alicent, although she had every right to do otherwise.

Eustace confirms that Daemon was his niece's first love and appears to be the love of her life, as baby Aegon was conceived immediately after Laena's death and while Harwin was still alive. Even Mushroom mentions Daemon as Rhaenyra's "beloved husband", and Rhaenyra herself calls her husband "my prince" and is furious at rumors that her husband might be leaving her for a younger woman. And even if Daemon did cheat on his wife with Mysaria, Rhaenyra herself remained a faithful wife to her husband and had no other lovers during their marriage or after Daemon's death (I have a feeling the showRhaenyra will fuck showAlicent right after showJoffrey's death).

Rhaenyra loved her family. She loved her so much that it almost destroyed her. And I think that one of the reasons why Rhaenyra did not follow her sister's example after escaping from the capital was her love for her last living child, Aegon.

ShowRhaenyra doesn't care about anyone but herself. She has already forgotten about her dead children and is now running around the island with a dissatisfied face, dreaming of becoming a man and apparently looking for someone who fuck her. She was ready to give the Hightowers, the people who discussed her murder in episode nine, her youngest sons, without even consulting the father of her children. She went to the capital to negotiate peace with murderers, traitors and usurpers, without thinking about the negative consequences for her family.

ShowRhaenyra demands advice from the lords, but rejects all advice offered. She's hysterical and doesn't offer anything herself.

ShowRhaenyra left her father to rot alone for six years and remembered his existence, only then did she need her trash to be cleaned up after her.

ShowRhaenyra didn't get sex from showDaemon in episode four, so she went and fucked the first man she could find. This was not the act of the girl boss or a progressive woman (as black fans of the show believe) or a rapist (as green fans of the show believe), it was the act of an idiot who, being the heir to the throne in a patriarchal and misogynistic world, decided to put her reputation at risk for the sake of the man, and she didn't even love him so much. She has no right to say that showDaemon destroyed her reputation. Yes, I agree, the situation with the brothel was his fault, but it was not showDaemon who put showCriston in his niece’s bed and it was not he who advised her to give birth to obvious bastards for ten years.

At the beginning of the sixth episode of the first season, she scolded showLaenor for having the audacity to give a name to her son, and then in the next scene she shouted at showLaenor that her bastards were his sons and he should be their father and obliged to help her get out from the hole she dug for herself.

ShowMysaria talked about how she was sexually assaulted and what is your blessed girl boss doing? She immediately tries to "comfort" the other woman by starting a sexual relationship and uses showMysaria just like all the other men in her life. If Matt had been on Emma place, ​​the poor man would have been stoned and accused of harassment.

And of course, how can one not remember that the real Rhaenyra was a style icon in Westeros, preferring purple and maroon colors, Myrish lace, diamonds and pearls? The showrhaenyra wore garbage bags in the first season and cheap robes in the second.

Every time any fans support changes to the show and insist that the show is more canon than the book, they insult the true Rhaenyra.

This is the true Rhaenyra Targaryen. She and only she.

Not Milly, not Emma. Their character is a terrible daughter, wife, mother, sister, friend and queen. Sara and Ryan wrote their own fanfic and made show about it. And in a freak accident, they gave the characters in the show the same names that GRRM gave the characters in his books.

[bloodflwrz]

These wall artworks in Carl Manfred's Mansion (theory and analysis)

Carl's mansion itself is an amazing location because I can't help but look and analyze every single piece of art scattered across the walls and floor. But these three objects in particular made me curious, I wanted to understand why they were specifically chosen to be placed on that wall. None of them are similar in any way, stemming from different cultures, eras, and material. So, what could they mean? I have an idea, sort of.

I believe each of these three pieces represent our main three protagonists, from left to right: Connor, Markus, and Kara. It represents their identity, their story, their journey. I did some research on these objects, using Google Lens to help point me first in the right direction of the possible inspiration or sources of the pieces, and afterwards my own reading using various art archives, articles, galleries, and museum sites. (I apologize for the wall of text 😅)

1st, Connor:

This seems to be a type of emblem, shield, a coat of arms. A coat of arms is typically adorned and used to represent an entity, and organization, an empire, government, army, or a noble family. Coats of arms are intellectual property, meaning, they cannot be worn just by anybody and flaunted just to feel special, you have to be deserving and privileged enough to display it. Wearing one is a sign of honor and respect, as well as servitude, and with it comes the duty of representing your status and regulating civil law, should you be in a position of policing, legal activity, or combat.

How does this relate to Connor?

Our beloved Android sent by CyberLife has been given orders by his makers, the great and all powerful company that produces every single Android we see in game. His duty is to assist the Detroit Police Department in investigating deviants. This coat of arms, particularly shaped like a shield or police badge, represents Connor's story as a prestigious and advanced prototype Android, with the capability to analyze clues at an inhuman rate and perform combat maneuvers like its child's play. He is not a force to be reckoned with, should he choose to stay a machine, in fact, he IS the law. He is the shield and representative of the company, CyberLife, and its only chance at finding the source of deviancy among their highest-profiting product, Androids. Without Connor, CL is headed straight into nothingness. He must not disappoint Amanda, his handler, and be the loyal subject that he was programmed to be. The infamous blue triangle logo found on every Android's uniform, a symbol of CL, is just a modern version of a coat of arms.

If you look from a Deviant Connor perspective, the police badge/shield-shaped coat of arms could also represent his loyalty to Hank and his protective demeanor. At almost every dangerous encounter alongside his partner, Connor is given the choice to either protect or ignore Hank's safety. Though his priority is to find the deviants, it is his personal mission to protect Hank from harm.

2nd, Markus:

A Marka/Dogon mask, originating from West African ethnic groups (Mali, Ivory Coast, Burkina Faso), particularly the Bambara and Dogon people (and other adjacent groups within the geographic location). This one was a bit difficult to research about, as many masks tend to have ambiguous origins and meaning, but from what I read, these masks tend to represent the coming of age, male initiation, journey into manhood, identity within a society, as well as religious association when used in rituals, sacrifice, and tradition. Some forms of these masks are used in rituals that have a connection with the dead, showing reverence and respect for those who passed on. Practicing remembrance and showing honor to their ancestors are large aspects of their culture with the use of these masks. The masks are also used in traditional healing practices, where they are believed to have powerful spiritual properties that can help cure illness and promote well-being. These handcrafted masterpieces are extremely important in these cultures and are often passed down by generations, signifying the importance of family and bond.

How does this relate to Markus?

These unique masks were primarily made and used by men in West African ethnic groups during the initiations of boys transitioning to men. Much like our Markus, the 'adoptive son' of Carl himself, Markus' innocence and youth is suddenly taken and he's forced into chaos, being harassed by protestors, threatened by Leo, almost permanently shutdown, thrown into the android scrapyard, and has to navigate the world by himself without his father to protect him. He has to mature and leave the comfort of his peaceful and comfy life, and come to terms with the cruelty of the world where Androids are subjugated to abuse and slavery. As a man, no longer a protected child, he takes the responsibility of protection and guidance for his people, symbolizing his 'coming of age' and transition into manhood. He is changed, has endured trauma, and must put on a mask to show that he is still strong and ready to live a life in his new role as a leader. As Lucy puts it, "You had it all, and you lost it all... You've seen hell and now hell lives in you."

Markus' story is closely related to death and the reverence of his 'ancestors': previous Androids who have suffered and died at the hands of humans. His goal as the leader of Jericho is to avenge those that they have lost and fight for those he can yet save. Every deviant's life is unique and special, their stories have meaning, even if they are treated like mere objects and servants by human society. Markus is willing to sacrifice his life in many instances to send a message to the humans, pass on his legacy to Jericho, and afterwards, all of society. His ability to convert is symbolic of a crying, healing, and inspiring message, reaching the furthest reaches of Detroit to those that need it the most. He wants to heal and save his people, bringing them biocomponents and thirium, expanding their sanctuary, arming his people (or family, at this point) with defenses, but in order to do that, he has to be willing to carry the burden of leadership.

3rd, Kara:

The skull of a bull, carved, broken, yet standing strong, thanks to kintsukuroi, aka Kintsugi. Kintsugi is the intricate Japanese art of repairing broken ceramic pottery using powdered gold/silver/platinum to put the pieces together, and display something in a different light, even more special than its original form. The purpose of Kintsugi isn't to hide or disguise the broken figure, but to instead emphasize its history, showing the life that the object had endured. The traditional Japanese philosophy of "Wabi-sabi", often associated with this particular art, describes that beauty can be appreciated even when it's broken and imperfect. There is beauty even in something modest and rough. Even a powerful and enduring beast, like a bull, can be broken down, but its story isn't over, its remains can still be repaired and appreciated if put together by a powerful glue such as gold, or perhaps... Love?

How does this relate to Kara?

Kara, the perfect housemaid Android for domestic work and childcare, is no stranger to being broken. In fact, our first scene with Kara is her being repaired and returned to Todd. Her memory has been wiped clean, she's been made anew, it's almost like nothing has happened, right? Over the course of her story, we learn that Kara has in fact been destroyed, broken, and abused by Todd. How do we come to the realization of her past? Thanks to Alice. Alice, in this case, is her glue, the mold between her cracks and shards. The bond and natural love between Alice and Kara is what keeps her together, alive. Because Kara is a protective mother-figure, the bull, or a cow, whatever you perceive it as, is a perfect symbol for her. Bulls are gentle in their nature, until a trigger sets off their instinct to fight and run you over with their body mass and horns. This is seen in her constant struggle to survive and seek shelter.

We come across two men in particular (out of her many escapes from danger) who set this instinct off, Todd and Zlatko. Both of them want to (or attempt to) break her, wipe her memory clean, and take away the beauty that is her caring nature and deviancy. Just like how mankind has domesticated cattle for their own benefit. Alice brings her back every single time. No matter how much of her body and memory is stripped away, she is back and stronger than before. Kara is a survivor. She can cut her hair, remove her LED, wear ragged clothes as a disguise, but deep down it's still Kara. Her story is shown in her battle scars and changes in her appearance, just like the golden streaks of broken pottery. As long as she has the protective instinct and love for Alice, it'll always be Kara. This is the beauty symbolized by Kintsugi and Wabi-sabi.

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If you made it this far, thank you! I'd love to hear your opinions and comments on my analysis. This might all be a stretch, but seeing as how the game is littered with references, themes, and symbolism across many scenes, these artworks seemed to standout for a reason, at least to me.

[hero-of-the-wolf]

This is for the lovely @la-sera , based on this comic here. I really admire your art, and you're such a kind person, so I wanted to write a little something for you :) I hope you like it!!!

Hyrule wasn’t a squeamish person. He couldn’t afford to be with his line of work, but even before he’d taken up sword and shield to fight for his beloved land he’d never been one to shy away from the reality of death. He’d do all in his power to spare the people of Hyrule from it, whether they appreciated it or not, and in turn administered it to every fell beast and monster that plagued his home. That was simply what heroes did.

And so battle after battle, with his eight new brothers in arms, he strove to help in every way he could. He knew that he wasn’t the strongest fighter, but he could hold his own in a fight well enough, and he had spells that the others didn’t know. Hyrule pulled on his magic now, jumping up over a moblin to slash at its head. It roared in outrage, clumsily swiping at him, trying to snatch him out of the air. But Hyrule was faster. He landed and, using his momentum, spun around to thrust his sword through the monster’s back. With a dying gurgle it collapsed at his feet and exploded into black smoke.

This particular battle had been especially brutal. They’d already been low on healing supplies when they’d gotten ambushed, and it’d only gotten worse from there. With no more red potions or fairies, it was all down to Hyrule and his magic.

He rushed to Wind and Four’s sides next. He couldn’t linger for too long trying to catch his breath; the others needed his help. The little pirate had been shot, felled by an archer’s arrow. Already Wind had tears shining in his eyes but he stubbornly refused to let them fall.

“I can’t move my left leg,” he rasped, his voice shaking from the force of the surpressed emotion. “Does my leg have to be amputated? Like a pirate—”

“You’re already a pirate, Wind,” Four chastised gently.

Hyrule looked over the wound. The arrow was still firmly embedded into the sailor’s calf, blood slowly oozing out and dripping down his leg.

It could have been much worse.

“No, your leg doesn’t need to be amputated.” Hyrule held out a spare rag. “Here, bite this.”

“I’ll draw this arrow on the count of three,” Four added. “Ready?”

Wind nodded, a traitorous tear finally leaking free.

“One.”

Hyrule leaned forwards, waiting for his cue.

“Two!”

Four swifty pulled the arrow free. Wind flinched back, a startled cry tearing from his lips. Hyrule wasted no time, placing his hands against the puncture wound and summoning his life spell.

It didn’t take much magic to heal. When he was done Wind smiled at him gratefully, the color already returning to his face. Then he shot a glare at Four. “You could have waited till three.”

Certain that Wind was okay, Hyrule tuned out their conversation and turned his attention back to the battle around them. Four could handle it from here, the traveler’s help was needed elsewhere. The others weren’t faring much better, either.

He caught sight of Warriors next, sitting on the ground and clutching at his shoulder. As he drew closer he realized that the captain was bleeding heavily. He had his scarf pressed tightly against the wound, trying to stem the blood all by himself.

He looked up as Hyrule knelt at his side, his gaze glassy and unfocused. “You don’t… need to heal me, Rule.”

“I want to help you,” Hyrule insisted, reaching out to gently pull the sullied blue cloth away. That would be a hard stain to get out, he knew from experience.

“ ‘s too much… blood….”

Hyrule gently shooed away the captain’s resisting hands. “I don’t mind. Now let me see and heal your shoulder, before you lose more blood!”

Warriors finally relented, letting his hands fall limply into his lap and closing his eyes. Hyrule placed his own hands against the wound as gently as he could, closing his eyes as well and summoning his magic again.

There was so much blood. Hyrule wondered how long the captain had been bleeding, unwilling to call out for help. He resolved to be more observant in the future. None of his brothers would suffer needlessly, not if he could help it.

He’d barely even mended the wound back together when he heard a pained cry ring out across the field. His head snapped up, searching the chaos until he found the source of the noise. The champion had fallen, his body a reddish heap on the ground. Legend stood over him, not letting any monster get too close.

Warriors saw it, too. He squeezed the traveler’s arm in thanks. “Thank you. You’ve done enough.”

Hyrule nodded, squeezing his arm in return, before rushing over. Legend turned at his approach, relief washing over his face. He kneeled down with Hyrule, pulling Wild up into his arms.

“What happened?” Hyrule asked, assessing the damage. He could feel that familiar exhaustion already pulling at him, a clear indication that he was quickly running out of magic. He ignored it.

“Wolfos,” Legend panted. “Can you heal him?”

“Of course.”

Hyrule reached for the wound, summoning his magic yet again. Slowly, the flesh knit back together. Hyrule poured in every last drop. The wounds were deep, but he had enough to do the job. He had to.

Once he was satisfied that it was fully healed the traveler leaned back, his head swimming.

Legend noticed immediately. He reached into his bag, pulling out a bottle. “I have a green potion for your magic.”

Another scream. The sound of it sent Hyrule’s heart racing, every hair standing on end, before it abruptly cut off. Then there was the muffled thud of a body hitting the ground.

This battle wasn’t going well for them at all.

Hyrule accepted the potion gratefully, tipping it back and drinking the whole thing in one go. Then he rushed over to where the sound had come from to find Twilight cradling Time’s body. Hyrule’s breath caught at the sight.

“Time, why did you protect me?” Twilight was crying. He placed his hand at the back of Time’s head, pulling him closer. Blood ran down the side of the old man’s face, nearly obscuring it with crimson red. “No, Time! Open your eyes! Please, do-don’t leave me….”

It was hard to tell from a distance whether he was even still alive or not. That wasn’t going to stop Hyrule from doing what he could.

“I’m ready,” Hyrule panted, sliding to their sides. Twilight’s head snapped up at his sudden appearance, looking almost comically surprised. He reluctantly pulled back, letting Hyrule lean in to assess the damage.

Hyrule pressed his fingers against Time’s neck, ignoring a nearby clash of steel against steel that was far too close for comfort. The old man’s pulse was sluggish, but still strong. He turned his attention to the wound next. Head wounds were always tricky, but he knew that he could help.

He could feel Twilight’s eyes on him as he worked, watching with bated breath. The rancher always worried so much, but he seemed to especially lose his composure whenever Time was the one that was injured. It was hard not to wonder why.

By the time he’d finished healing their appointed leader and finally pulled back the battle around them had fallen silent. Hyrule got up, looking around once again. He spotted the chosen hero standing a ways away from the group, still heaving for breath. His tunic was steadily growing red, but either he didn’t notice or he didn’t care.

Hyrule marched over to the knight. “Sky! Let me heal your wound!”

Sky held his hands up placatingly, giving Hyrule a reassuring smile. “Oh, no need, Hyrule. I’m fine, it’s just a scratch.”

Ignoring his words, Hyrule reached out to poke around the wound, trying to gauge how bad it was. Sky immediately collapsed into a heap on the ground, gasping in pain.

Hyrule went down with him, placing a steadying hand on his back and frowning in concern. “Your wounds are deep. This can be dangerous if not treated immediately.”

Resigned to his fate, Sky didn’t resist as Hyrule finished off his magic, mending the wound back together. He gave him a grateful smile when he was done, one that the traveler gladly returned.

The battle over and everyone taken care of, Hyrule stepped away and let himself sit down roughly on the ground. His brothers were all okay.

He needed a nap.

The others set up camp around him, chatting quietly, the sound a pleasant hum washing over him. One by one each of the others came over, leaving gifts. Twilight’s pelt, Sky’s sailcloth, potions and milk and even an entire apple.

Hyrule got to work cutting the apple up into smaller pieces, struggling to stay awake, his eyes nearly crossing from the effort of keeping them open. He lifted his head from where it'd started to droop and resolved to himself to go to sleep after he finished eating the gifted fruit.

“Ouch!”

A sharp prick immediately brought him back to his senses. He stared down at his finger uncomprehendingly, nicked by his own knife.

Bleeding.

He was bleeding.

He yelled, drawing on the very last of his magic to heal the meager cut. Too close. That was far too close.

He felt eyes staring at him. Hyrule flushed, turning around to see the rest of the chain’s attention fully on him.

“You… okay, Rule?”

“Yeah. Yep.” He pulled the cloaks hanging off his shoulders tighter around him. “Sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” Legend waved him off.

One by one, they went back to their conversation. The traveler looked back down at his apple, his ears bright red.

Hyrule wasn't a squeamish person. With his line of work he couldn't afford to be. But the sight of his own blood… the sight of his own blood had always made him feel sick. And knowing now that it was cursed too….

It was best not to leave his cuts unhealed, no matter how small they were.