#this is implicitly the first time either of them has ever called him that

[everyrishidpanel]

[wolvesofinnistrad]

Now Expanded on AO3 here

The bed is hard and cold, not anything he isn't used to, but uncomfortable all the same. Especially with the way his body aches right now.

He wasn't even supposed to be on the ground, running into burning buildings wasn't really his main job description anymore. It was just...

The woman was screaming for her cat. And Tommy loves cats, he has his own, Missy. She's probably wondering where daddy is right now.

Who is he kidding, she probably didn't even notice he left for work.

No one is probably noticing he's missing. He likes the people at harbor, his coworkers, but they aren't family like the 118, Evan has told him how half the station will be sitting bedside vigil when any of them get injured. It must be nice to have that. After his childhood, shipped from one foster home to another, kicked out at 18, a family like that is something he's always wanted; fuck he acted like an absolute asshole just to try to get the old 118 to like him.

He's just mulling over whether calling Eddie and asking him to pick him up whenever they discharge him is too much when he hears the squeak of sneakers on the hospital floor and glances towards the door.

In stumbles Evan, looking scared and adorable and making Tommy's heart beat so fast the monitor actually beeps a few times in warning.

"Tommy, hey, are you okay?" He says, scrambling towards him, dragging a chair over with a loud scrape that has Tommy wincing at the sound.

For a moment all he can do is stare over at this human ball of sunshine, something in his chest unknotting. Fuck he really didn't think anyone would come, how did he...

"I, I'm okay," he says, trying to put on a brave face for Evan. He's older, more experienced, he should try to be calm and not get emotional.

"You look like shit," Evan says in that earnest way he has, sitting there and taking Tommy's hand in his own. His thumb brushes over Tommy's bruised knuckles, his concerned expression staring straight into Tommy's soul.

"Oh..." he says as he feels something crack open in him. Because Evan is here, he's holding his hand, he's worried for him he... He wants to take care of him, its written all over that adorable face. And well, that's, its not really something Tommy ever has anymore. "I'll be okay," he amends, and his hand squeezes Evan's even if it hurts a little. "How did you even?"

"The hospital called me. Apparently I'm your emergency contact?" Evan asks, and there's confusion there, but also something that looks like that same giddy contentment that Evan gets whenever Tommy does something to make him happy.

Fuck. He forgot he'd done that. That looked crazy and desperate, they'd only been dating a couple months.

"Uh, yeah it was either you or Chimney," he said, and fuck if that didn't sound pathetic. It wasn't like he didn't have friends. He had a lot actually, but none that he trusted implicitly like that. To see him weak and vulnerable. Chimney had saved his life though, and Evan well...

Evan leans in and kisses him. "Well I'm glad you did because I might not have known otherwise. Chim is at work right now so."

They sit for a while, Him recounting how he saved the cat but got blasted out a first floor window by the explosion. There wasn't any serious damage but he hurt like shit and had a lot of bruises and scrapes.

"Would you want to, y'know, come home with me and I can take care of you? Or I can stay at your place," Evan asks and fuck, fuck he is Not going to cry, he is not that kind of guy. But then, before he can answer.

Eddie rounds the corner, followed closely by Chim and Hen. Eddie's in plain clothes but Hen and Chim look like they came directly from the station.

"Tommy, shit, you okay?" Eddie asks, and Hen and Chim are looking at his chart by the bed and this is. Its too much. Its exactly what he wanted but wasn't at all expecting.

"I'm," he starts, looking at Evan for a moment before deciding, "I feel about as bad as I look, yeah." Evan squeezes his hand and his heart starts racing again and the monitor is beeping a little and he feels a tear going down his cheek. Evan wipes the tear away and then they're all talking. About what happened as Evan explains it for him, about a call where Hen saved a dog a few months back, about whatever. And fuck if Tommy doesn't feel safe, feel like he belongs.

Later that night, laying in his own bed, Evan having dragged him onto his broad chest in the same way Tommy usually does to him, he starts to think he could get used to this. He really hopes he can keep Evan, keep all of this for himself. Missy curls at the foot of the bed and purrs and he thinks, yeah, I feel like purring in contentment too.

[mylordshesacactus]

OC ask Ihz 1,2, 6, 11,13,15!

Does your OC have a voice claim, if so who?

She doesn't! Outside of, you know. Not Whoever Blizzard Normally Gets To Do Troll Voices, Yikes TM.

If she WERE voiced, it would be by someone with a low, raspy voice, using their natural accent.

Who's your OCs best friend? How did they become best friends?

Thorn, she bought him off his abusive owner ;)

Outside of her animals, honestly, Ihz's best friend is her cousin Vazkri. They grew up together--Vaz is just enough older that they weren't really peers or playmates, but they're similar enough in age that they became close friends as adults. They have wildly divergent personalities, and very different lives; but they trust each other implicitly and will always turn to one another first in a crisis.

If your OC is in a fantasy setting, what profession would they be in the modern day?

Either a farrier or, like, an owner-operator long-haul trucker who drives with her rescue pit bull in the passenger seat (and has spent a small fortune on custom safety harnesses for him).

Modern AU Ihz known mostly for responding to supervisors trying to throw their weight around by letting them scream themselves lightheaded and then going "I'm a Teamster." and then continuing to do things the safe way.

(She has Beverly on speed dial.)

What was your inspiration for your OC?

I wanted to play An NPC (TM), both for fun and also because I'd had the thought that it might MASSIVELY improve immersion if I had a character who had a REASON to go on, and be approached for, fetch quests.

Hence: IHZ! It's not annoying or immersion-breaking for her to be sent on stupid fetch quests while the world ends, because she's not An Adventuring Champion who could be doing something better with her time. The fetch quests ARE her job, and the plot that keeps happening to her is the unwanted interruption.

It also really just...enhances the experience, honestly, when you play a mid-rank character. I think most MMOs would be significantly stronger, narratively, if they would lean into that--you're clearly NOT Azeroth's Greatest Goddamn Champion because there are a bajillion of us, so why treat it that way? You can have your power fantasy without being Azeroth's most special little princess man. Rinda, Talet-and-Vel, Vaz, Levaden, Ihz--they feel like PART of the world, not the artificial center, which is why it's so easy for me to slot them into fic.

So, yeah! Ihz is there because I wanted a character who could interact with the plot from a very specific perspective, without feeling jarringly artificial, and where sidequests would feel more organic and compelling. And I got her!

Does your OC have a rival? How did it start?

Uh, I think her primary rival is [checks notes] Garrosh Hellscream??? This would be news to him, as he was completely unaware she existed at any point.

Ihz's true interpersonal rival is whoever wrote the regulations on approved tack choices for the Horde military.

Will your OC ever retire? Do you see them making it?

In order to answer that question, Blizzard would have to have any kind of coherent presentation of trollish lifespans at all.

I think Ihz will always have SOMETHING she's doing to keep herself busy. If she gets to the point where she can't physically do the mail route anymore she'll pivot--really WILL become a farrier (not exactly a physically undemanding job, but the physical requirements are different) or a stablemaster or a horse tamer or a warg trainer or something. Raise dogs in the Barrens.

There's no reason she won't make it. If she doesn't, though, it'll be because she called the wrong bluff. Though, knowing Ihz--she wouldn't call it a mistake. She's only that bold when there's someone she's protecting, so she'd know the risks and decide she had to try.

[cdyssey]

I think that “The Waters of Mars” and “Silence in the Library/Forest of the Dead” are soooooo interesting to view in parallel to each other because they have a lot of complementary beats. (CW: Suicide Reference for “Waters of Mars”)

The Doctor arrives at ‘x’ place—a cold, dark Library, a doomed base on Mars—and meets an extremely accomplished leader of a good crew in Adelaide and River. Both women are necessarily hardened by their experiences and responsibilities in some ways but clearly care for their loved ones and their colleagues all the same.

The Doctor knows almost everything there is to know about Adelaide from an impersonal standpoint—her history, her death, her cosmic place in the wider universe. He initially looks at the Bowie crew and is visibly stricken by the inevitable tragedy of them all. River knows almost everything there is to know about the Doctor from a personal standpoint—he’s her husband, but god, he’s so young, and he doesn’t even know it. Know her. She has years upon wonderful and complicated years of history with this man, and he looks right through her. (She thinks it might kill her.)

As the respective episodes wear on, the Doctor has a clear connection with both River and Adelaide, both of whom can boss him around like people rarely do skskdjnsns. They’re smart and driven and won’t suffer any fools, but they’re remarkably human when it matters most. River speaks softly to Miss Evangelista as her ghost fades from the neural relay. Adelaide doesn’t shoot the infected Andy even though she could have.

But he’s also increasingly frustrated and upset by his helplessness when it comes to them. It scares and unnerves him that River is clearly someone extremely important from his future; he’s always been insecure about not knowing what’s in store, and River is a walking reminder of his lack of personal perspective, his inability to totally have control. He’s drawn to her. She’s so clever and brave and good. He fears what she represents all the same. He snaps at her, clearly distrusts her. River calls him out on being emotional. The Doctor knows that he should leave Bowie Base One. There’s nothing he can do for these wonderful people. What happens on Mars has to stay on Mars; a fixed point is just that—an immutable event in time. But as he gets to know Adelaide—who is also so clever and brave and good—that responsibility becomes muddied by his increasing care and admiration for the captain. He grows taciturn as he watches the mission all fall to pieces. He’s emotional.

But why is he emotional? What’s another central tension that these episodes share? Both “Waters” and “Forest” either directly or intertextually deal with the Doctor simply reeling over the loss of Donna. The wrenching grief of having failed yet another someone that he loves drives the Doctor’s anger and affects his ability to think objectively. River tells him to focus on the present, on the five people who are still alive in the room. (“Dear God, you’re hard work young.”) And the last scene of “Waters” is in stunning and raw conversation with “The Runaway Bride.” Ten alone and grieving is a recipe for disaster. Donna is the first person who’s explicitly told him that he needs someone to stop him. Because if he isn’t stopped, he becomes his own waking nightmare. He becomes the Time Lord Victorious.

The climaxes of both “Forest” and “Waters” are about the Doctor wanting to change history. “Time can be rewritten,” he pleads. And River, angrier and more desperate than we have ever seen her before, pleads back, “Not those times. Not one line. Don’t you dare.” By making him watch her sacrifice, she implicitly shows him that this moment in time is inevitable, and he’ll one day do the same to her in a lake in Florida. (It’s horrible and it’s awful, but, god, if it isn’t an act of unspeakable love and forgiveness too.) But Ten in “Waters” doesn’t have anyone to stop him—not Donna, not River, not even initially Adelaide, even though she desperately tries by blowing up the base. The laws of time will obey the Doctor. He’s a Time Lord, and he makes the rules. This revelation elevates all of his worst impulses—his arrogance, his vanity, and his pride—and for a moment, as we watch him gleefully preen to a horror-struck Adelaide, Yuri, and Mia, we understand that he’s become the villain in someone else’s story. Someone has to stop him, and that Adelaide does. She understands that there are too many things at stake for the future—her granddaughters’ life, the lives of so many others—in the same way that River wasn’t willing to relinquish one fragment of hers and the Doctor’s history. The Doctor realizes the magnitude of what the captain did—what he forced her to do—immediately. He went too damn far.

“Forest” and “Waters” both end with the Doctor running. Running to River, trying to save this person who will clearly mean so much to him one day. Running away from his fate in “Waters,” unwilling to accept the death that soon awaits him. (“Oh, I’m good!” He exclaims jubilantly when he realizes that his future self has saved the professor. / “Oh, I’m good!” He grins at Mia, Yuri, and Adelaide, so pleased that he’s saved them, that he’s single-handedly changed a fixed point.) But the shared impact of these stories is that both River and Adelaide teach the Doctor a lesson about the inevitability of time—its forward march, no matter how much he wishes otherwise. They give him perspective, these remarkable women—and to a being such as the Doctor who is sensitive to the whole breadth of the universe—that’s often the most important gift that he ever receives.

[whatstrangeloops]

Finished the first season of Scavenger's Reign and wanted to post some thoughts about it.

First, I want to say that the show is gorgeous and the world and creatures are always stunning and interesting. This show is worth experiencing purely for those things alone.

However, as a story I think it was really lacking or, given the second season teaser at the end, maybe just incomplete. Which is disappointing since I can see the outline of some interesting themes going on but the show doesn't seem interested in delivering any sort of coherent statement about those ideas with the characters.

The unifying concept seems to be of humanity vs nature. Vespa is a wild and unfamiliar new ecology to the stranded survivors. While the creatures on Vespa aren't malicious their survival and the humans' survival is at odds and this forms the fundamental conflict of the show. Then later, I think in one of the last episodes, in Azi's flashback with Mia, Mia delivers a classic "this is the theme" monologue about how no matter where they are people should find ways to rely on other people. Which I interpret as the story being implicitly pro-humanity but also makes other things in the show less interesting maybe because I was hoping the show would go deeper than that.

Like here's how I interpret some of the characters and what happened to them. Sam starts out very pragmatic and is even positioned as opposed to Ursula on trying to understand Vespa (a thread that kind of gets dropped I feel). After he's infected with the parasite, at first he's invigorated but after coming to realize having the parasite allows him access to a deeper connection to Vespa chooses to die with his humanity rather than accept that influence. I think the horror framing of the parasite really muddies trying to think about it though. Kamen abdicates his humanity entirely to Vespa through Hollow (the little alien koala is called Hollow in the episode descriptions) unknowingly becoming a force of destruction but on contact with the "true understanding of Vespa" that Levi has is either rejected by the planet or reaccepts responsibility for his actions. Which one it is is kind of unclear. Finally, in Levi's arc the show seems to say that full harmony with Vespa isn't achievable by biological humans. Levi's strength is that they can be fully colonized by Vespa without any messy biological incompatibilities and they're even rewarded for accepting the planet with reproductive capability but that arc puts the human characters in a kind of bleak contrast and doesn't foretell good outcomes for them.

I guess I was hoping the show would give the characters a way to reflect on the idea of humanity vs nature more deeply. Probably the first couple episodes had me subconsciously ready to compare it to Dune and the teaser at the end of the last episode with the cathedral ship and the priests or whatever they were pushed that comparison into my conscious thinking. (Actually that teaser makes me a little worried if they're going about any of this thematic storytelling stuff being improved in S2, if it happens)

Anyway, some minor gripes: Hollow feels too much like a cheap trope. The rest of the ecology on Vespa felt very alien but still grounded. Hollow is just like a Grey but a koala complete with telepathic and telekinetic powers that no character ever really comments on and the transformation into a horror monster is also ungrounded.

I wish the show had spent a bit more time showing us how the characters discovered some of their knowledge about the ecology. Seeing Sam, Ursula, or Azi use the animals or plants in ingenious ways was cool but as they moved toward the ship and through unfamiliar biomes I started wondering about when they had the opportunity to figure all of this out. I'm thinking about the sequence where Azi, Barry and Kris have to cross that river and Azi pulls out this elaborate multi step process just to make sticky tack for their shoes like she'd been living by that riverside for years even though if you think about it I'm pretty sure that's the first time she'd ever been in that area.

[babygirlbdubs]

top ten renthubs moments GO

OH GOD OKAY OKAY OKAY UM. UM. UUUMMMUMUMUMUM this is so hard bc there's so few moments where they actually all three interact together BUT in no specific order

ren's last life ep one. he's at the salmon lake trying to hoard all the salmon. ethubs show up and harass/flirt with him the whole time. ren makes a comment about the two of them sharing a bed. they tease him about wanting a furnace. bdubs calls ren "baby".

during the king's labyrinth when etho climbs up to the viewing platform during cleo's game. he looks up at ren directly and is just kinda lookin at him while he's crouching. ren looking back and giggling and just. "etho's here!" and bdubs laughing. and neither of them punching etho off into the lava even though they would've for literally anyone else. (also both of them being like 'noooo, etho!!' when he almost got to the finish and then got blown up)

literally the entirety of whatever the fuck was going on in 3L. ren and etho being each other's first official alliance. etho spending his entire time either harassing bdubs or taking ren out to do shenanigans. ren trying to impress bdubs and etho by telling them that cleo has pizza and then immediately being called on it by bdubs and ren trying (and failing) to cover for himself. after bdubs died, ren giving him free enchanting and then telling etho to give the feather falling boots to bdubs. etho telling ren he'll only join the red army if the crastle folk are their enemies. ren saying they're already in the book. the red army killing cleo when she attacked and then ren instructing that they let bdubs get her stuff. ... anyway.

monolith era. the three of them literally never interacted together on screen but. ren's welcoming gift to etho and being so excited that they're living together. bdubs talking to etho about how ren lives upstairs and they've got a meeting and "he can be a bit loud". ahem. i won't comment on that matter.

double liiifeeeee~ when ren is hunting down bdubs at the pool partyyyyyy ahahahahaaaaaa.... bigb starts the attempt to kill bdubs and bdubs runs TOWARD ren, crying "BIGB'S TRYNA KILL ME". ends up running directly into ren, who ALSO starts trying to kill him. the reds cheer ren on, but etho! etho!!! does even more than that!!! etho :))) etho gets out his fishing rod. and hooks bdubs and tugs him back into one of ren's swings. "get him, ren!!" i think that one is cool and not at all agonizing ahahahhaahahahahahaha

oh another one from the king's labyrinth! etho calling for everyone to attack bdubs and kill him first, ren hearing this and going "bdoubleo, where are you!? i must save thee!!" and turning into the crowd to try and rescue him :)

oh also this isn't a specific moment but. me when the only two people that ren has ever implicitly trusted without them ever having to prove their loyalty have been etho and bdubs. and the only person etho has ever trusted implicitly has been ren. and the only person who has ever implicitly trusted bdubs has been ren. (why do you think he was as hurt as he was about not being trusted by his exes in lim life? he'd finally had someone's trust and faith in his loyalty without fail. how do you go back after that?)

i know that's only 7 but tbh the 3L one has a few little moments. i really need these three to interact on screen more i NEED the CONTENT!!!!!! ren and bdubs are both such ethogirls and uGH all their dynamics would fit so well together i am BEGGING

[middleearthpixie]

Seven Days ~ Chapter Twenty-Seven

Seven Days -  Modern Tolkien AU

Firefighter Frerin Durin died in a fire set deliberately. But after he helps his brother, Thorin find happiness, Frerin is offered a second chance. He has to prove himself worthy by righting the one major wrong in his life. Otherwise, history will repeat and he will die for good this time. The catch? He has seven days in which to do this and isn’t even certain what his major wrong is.

At least, he doesn’t know for long. 

Syd Prescott has known Frerin since high school. She spent one night with him and then he vanished from her life. Now, he claims he wants to make it up to her, to right was he realizes was his major wrong. But can she trust him? And can he prove to her that she can before it’s too late? 

Pairing: Modern!Frerin x OFC Syd Prescott

Characters: Frerin, Syd, 

Warnings: Oral sex (m/f receiving), intercourse, some fluff

Rating: M

Word Count: 4.5K

Tag List: @mrsdurin @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @linasofia @fizzyxcustard @legolasbadass @kibleedibleedoo @xxbyimm @arrthurpendragon @exhausted-humxn-being @rachel1959 @laurfilijames @sketch-and-write-lover @sherala007 @enchantzz @knittastically @notlostgnome @myselfandfantasy @medusas-hairband @guardianofrivendell @jotink78 @frosticenow @quiall321 @dianakc @msjava1972 @glassgulls @evenstaredits @heilith @asgardianhobbit98 @albionscastle @absentmindeduniverse @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms

If you’d like to be added (or removed) to the tag list, please just let me know!

Previous chapters can be found here.

Syd stood on the top step of the wide, wraparound front porch and paused. The house had been in the Prescott family since the first Preskova set foot in Cranford Falls in the late nineteenth century, and had only ever been inhabited by them. She’d never given her family’s gifts, as they called them, much thought, as they were simply things she and her sisters had been born with being able to do. They’d been taught from a young age to keep those gifts close, to not divulge them unless it was to someone they trusted implicitly. She never gave a second thought to Gram’s being able to cast charms, although she knew very well her grandmother could do just that. She never stopped to think Gram had already done just that, protecting her family and their home to the best of her ability.

But, had Gram ever encountered anything like this? Any being like Tori? If so, she kept it to herself, and knowing Gram, that’s exactly what she would do—keep them all in the dark until it became necessary to shine the light. 

For Syd, her abilities were no different to her than the ability to draw was to someone artistic, or a writer’s ability to paint pictures with words instead of acrylics. She’d never taken them for granted, but never boasted about them, either. They simply were. 

Auras were her strength. She could look at a person and judge their state of mind, their trustworthiness, their temperament, and at times, their faults as well. She didn't have to think about, didn't have to study it. A quick glance at someone and she could read them almost immediately. 

Back in August, Frerin’s aura had been red and orange, tinged with pink. He hummed with restless energy, and women fed off that energy. It drew them to him. She’d seen that and knew the signs and ignored it back then. That was why his disappearance from her life didn't come as a surprise. She figured it was bound to happen and the one night she’d spent with him was definitely worth it.

But now? Now, he was content. He wasn’t on the prowl for someone new and different. More green tempered his aura these days. She could trust him. He had changed and for the better and she knew when he said he loved her, he meant every word of it. 

On the other hand, Gram’s aura had changed over the last week or so, which led Syd to wonder if Gram had seen signs of trouble where Tori was concerned. The red that normally showed around her had grown deeper, a sign she was asserting herself as the family leader. But, a hint of deep blue also showed. Sadness. Or perhaps exhaustion. Maybe a combination of the two. Either way, Gram had shouldered a heavy burden and Syd knew Tori played some role in it. 

She sighed softly as she dug out her keys. Gram said no one would get inside without an invitation, but what if Tori touched Teddy or Charlie? What if she touched Gram? How would any of them know?

Her head hurt just thinking about it. 

A car drove by and as she turned to take a look, it slowed in front of the house, then stopped. It was a white Tesla that made almost no sound at all, and Syd’s heart picked up its pace as Christina stared at her for a long moment, then offered up a slow, smug smile that made every hair on Syd’s body stand up. 

Time stood still for that moment, then, as another car approached from the opposite direction, Christina stepped on the gas and drove off. A moment later, Frerin’s Jeep came into view and Syd’s gut twisted as he pulled into the driveway and stopped behind her Jetta. 

He climbed out and gestured in the direction Christina had driven off in. “Was that who I think it was?”

“Yeah.” Syd turned toward that same direction, but the Tesla was out of sight now. A dull headache took root behind her eyes, pricking at the backs of her eyeballs like dull needles. “We should go inside, Frerin. We need to talk.”

From the corner of her eye, she saw him stiffen. After all, nothing good ever came of those words, right? She turned to him. “Don’t look at me like that, it’s nothing too bad.”

“Syd, I’ve said those words a thousand times and it’s never good. Never.” He leaned against the Jeep’s driver side door. “What do we have to talk about?”

“Not out here,” she told him, turning back toward where the Tesla had gone once more. “I don't like it out here right now. Too exposed.”

A heavy sigh bubbled to his lips as he pushed up and away from the Jeep. “Syd, I—”

“It has nothing to do with us.” She reached out to slip her hand into his once he was close enough, smiling as his fingers tightened about hers. “I mean, it does, but not the way it usually means.”

His thumb brushed along hers. “You meet another guy?”

“Frerin.”

“Another girl?”

“Frerin!”

He gave a gentle tug on her arm, and as she slid up against him, he eased his hand from hers to drape that arm about her neck. “Just checking.”

“You cannot seriously think I’d be interested in any other guy. You’ve ruined me for all other men, you know.”

“Good.” He pressed a kiss into her temple as they mounted the steps. “I did my best.”

“You succeeded.” She slipped her key into the lock and turned, and as they stepped inside, she was thankful for the blast of heat that greeted them. “I can’t wait for winter to go.”

“You and me both.” 

They stepped over the threshold and Syd closed and locked the door behind them. Frerin smiled as he shrugged out of his leather jacket. “I talked to my chief about time off, which was a little weird, considering I’m still technically on the bench. How does New Year’s in Aruba sound?”

“What about your family?”

He shook his head. “They aren’t invited.”

“Funny. You want to celebrate your birthday without them?”

“I’m okay with it,” he shrugged, sinking onto the arm of the sofa, one hand splayed out on his left thigh. “You, me, a beach, and a bottle of champagne sounds pretty nice to me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” He reached for her hand, linking his fingers with hers, and tugged to draw her into the vee of his slightly spread legs. “I mean, unless you have New Year’s Eve plans already, since you didn't know I was going to turn up in your life again.”

She smiled, letting her hands come to rest on his broad shoulders. Heat wafted through the heavy red and black flannel he wore over a black tee shirt. “I don't go out on New Year’s Eve if I can help it. Too people-y and too many drunks on the road.”

“So, you, me, a beach, and a bottle of champagne?”

She nodded. “I like how that sounds.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“You know what else sounds good?”

Her belly fluttered as his eyes softened. “What’s that?”

“Sydney Durin.” His voice was as soft as his eyes and her mouth went dry as he stood, loomed over her. He caught her under the chin with one forefinger to tilt her face to his. “Marry me, Syd. And I swear to you, I’m dead fucking serious this time.”

Her mouth went dry, her heart hammering so hard, the pulse shooting through her temples almost hurt. “Frerin…”

His thumb brushed along her jaw. “I love you, Syd. And I had to fucking die to see what was staring me in the face since last summer. Since ninth fucking grade.”

“You keep saying that, but you didn't know I was alive.”

“The hell I didn’t. Syd, you were this hot older woman. I was Thorin’s smart ass kid brother. I didn't stand a chance with you then. And now, now I’ve got you and I want to keep you and I want you to be my wife.” He eased his arms about her waist, pulling her flush against him. “I want to nudge someone in your shop or wherever and say, ‘You see that hot fucking woman? She’s my wife.’ So, what do you say to us just saying to hell with everything here and running away to get married on that beach in Aruba?”

“You’re nuts, you know that?”

“Is that yes?”

She smiled as she draped her arms about his neck and slipped her fingers through his shaggy dark hair where it curled over the collar of his flannel. “Frerin Durin wants to marry me and he’s insane enough to think I might actually turn him down?”

“So…”

“Yes.” She nodded. “I will.”

He smiled then and bent to brush her lips with his. “I do have a ring for you, you know. I’d planned to ask you a little differently, but the moment seemed right, so I went for it.”

“I don't need a ring, Frerin.”

“Yeah, well, you’re getting one.” He winked and pulled free to pick up his jacket and dug into the inside pocket, coming up with a small velvet-covered jewel box. “And if you don't like it or you had your heart set on a different one, say something and we’ll exchange it.”

She stared down at the box he held, and when he opened it, inside, tucked into a bed of black velvet, was one of the most beautiful rings she’d ever seen—a beautiful, deep blue round tanzanite surrounded by diamonds in a twisted shank setting. The ring blurred for a moment as her eyes stung and she whispered, “Frerin… ”

“I told you I was serious, Syd.” He eased the ring from the velvet to slip onto her finger. “I even got the size right.”

The ring sparkled on her finger and she looked up to shake her head at him. “You really are nuts.”

“No, I’m not. I just know what I want and that’s you, Syd.” 

As he spoke, he eased his arms about her waist, then lifted her to meet his kiss. His lips were teasing and soft at first, but that kiss quickly deepened, with his breath hitching as she wrapped her legs about his waist. He cupped her backside, pulling her even more firmly against him and as he did, it was Syd’s turn to inhale sharply.

His tongue swept along hers, silken and hot, teasing hers, and without thinking, she slid her fingers up into his thick hair. Her belly fluttered as he moved, skirting the coffee table, to press her down into the sofa. He settled against her, hips firmly between her thighs, and when he arched into her, Syd shuddered from the tingling pleasure he sent through her. 

She slid her hands along his neck, to grip the lapels of his flannel, and shoved it over his shoulders to tug it from his back, then twisted her fingers into his long-sleeved tee shirt to pull it up over his shoulder blades. 

“I’ve got it,” he whispered breathlessly, reaching back to grip a handful of cotton and yanked the tee shirt over his head, let her pull it the rest of the way off, then tossed it to the floor before seizing her lips with his once more.

The St. Florian’s medallion came warm against her breastbone, her eyes heavy-lidded and sleepy as he swept his lips along her chin, down her neck, which bowed of its own accord as he flicked his tongue into the hollow. Then, he drew back and with a sinful smile filled with promise, caught her sweater by its hem to shove up, pushing it up, over her head, then pulled it free to let it fall on top of his shirts on the floor before the sofa.

Syd bit back a sigh at the sight of him, his shaggy hair mussed, his eyes almost sapphire with desire, the sensual smile tucked within that rugged beard. He was everything she’d ever hoped for in a man, everything she’d ever let herself dream about in a man.

He was her everything. Her soul mate.

And she would do anything in her power to keep him safe.

The nazar resting against in the hollow of his neck glinted in the pale sunlight that spilled in through the front bay windows. The St. Florian medal did as well, but she noticed that it wasn't the light itself that caused it. No, both seemed lit from within. And she wondered if the nazar hummed against him, the way hers did when she came face to face with Christina. 

There was no time to mention it as Frerin came flush against her once more, his lips seeking and finding hers for a slow, passionate kiss. His hands began to roam then, one sliding up along the curve of her waist, over the rise of her breast. He cupped it. Kneaded it. Eased it from her bra and he kissed his way to it. He caught the front clasp of her bra and popped it, then swept it from her, skimming cotton and lace over her nipple before claiming it with his lips to set her on fire.

That fire filled her, billowed through her as his tongue did a slow swirl about her now-aching nipple, as he drew it deep into his mouth and caught it between gentle teeth, his tongue flicking back and forth across the taut bead until she thought she’d go up in smoke from the white-hot pleasure streaking through her.

He released that nipple, kissed his way down over her belly, caught the button of her Levi’s to ease it through its hole, and she couldn't hold back her breathless laugh as he swept a teasing kiss along her lower belly as he pulled the denim open. Then, he eased off the sofa, grinning as he gripped her jeans by their cuffs, and pulled.

She lifted her hips and the jeans skimmed along her thighs, her calves, to join the growing pile and when he looked up, Frerin’s eyes swirled with promise as he murmured, “Christ, you are so fucking beautiful, Syd.”

“Frerin…”

“What? You are.” He slowly stood, then came up over her once more, looming over her, all broad shoulders and wide chest and sinful smile, and as he bent to kiss her once more, he whispered, “Everything I ever wanted in a woman, right here… you’re my girl, Syd.”

“Always.”

She welcomed his weight against her as he covered her once more and this time, when he trailed those kisses down along her breastbone, he didn't stop, didn't linger at her breasts or her stomach, but feathered those kisses down to the fluff of russet hair between her thighs, sinking to his knees alongside the sofa. He looked up, his smile wolfish, his eyes swirling cobalt with desire, and with a teasing wink, he eased her legs over his shoulders and bent to her once more. His breath came warm upon her, his tongue light and teasing at first, and as her head started a slow spin, she reached for him, thrusting her fingers into his thick wavy hair, her eyes closing, her body humming beneath his touch. 

He moved slowly. With the most delicate of precision. The lightest of teasing caresses. Little by little, he increased the pressure, his speed, and as the wave built, her hips rolled of their own to meet him. Slowly. Steadily. His name a breathless whisper on her lips as everything inside her tightened and rolled over. Pleasure sparkled through her, soft at first, but as he steadily increased the pressure, his tongue swept rough and teasing over her to fill her with fire. She curled her fingers into his hair, into the sofa pillow beneath her head, her hips moved faster now, rocked up to meet him, to draw out that fiery bliss as the wave crested.

Then it broke.

“Frerin!” Her hips bolted to him as she hit that crescendo and white-hot ecstasy exploded within her in a fiery cascade that had her trembling beneath him, starbursts of pure white light bursting before her eyes, thrumming through her entire being as her core melted and her body begged for his. She couldn't think. Couldn’t speak. All she could do was feel and he tortured her mercilessly, drawing out her climax until she could stand it no more and writhed to get away from him, sinking back into the sofa cushion, fighting to breathe. 

His lips swept gently along her inner thigh. Then along her belly. Over her breast. He came back up, those gifted lips hovering just above hers as he murmured, “I love you…”

Syd forced her heavy eyelids open as she gazed up at him. “Oh… holy shit… Frerin…” she managed, a goofy smile on her lips as she fought to collect her muddled thoughts into something far more coherent. “Damn… I—I love you, too.” 

He chuckled and winked. “My work here is done…”

“Oh, I don’t think so, Mr. Durin,” she whispered, crooking a finger in a come here motion. 

Another wink and he bent to press a kiss into her left thigh, then pushed back to get to his feet. The nazar and St. Florian medallion, nestling at different heights, glinted in the sunlight and Syd bit back a sigh at the sight of him as he unbuttoned and then unzipped his jeans. Standing there, in that pale winter sunlight, he looked almost mystical, the rays highlighting the swells of muscle along his shoulders and chest, wrapped down over his arms, glinting softly off the dark hair that curled away from his skin. He was absolutely fucking perfect and he was hers.  

She sat up then, and without thinking, leaned into press her lips against the warm skin of his lower abdomen, just above the waist of his jeans and just to the left of the happy trail of dark hair that disappeared into his underwear. His hands went still, then fell away from the denim to slip into her hair as she took over, pulling the denim apart to kiss down to the semi-smooth waistband of his dark red boxer briefs. 

The denim skimmed smoothly over his hips, his fingers twisting into her hair as she feathered kisses over the warm cotton of those brief, his breath hitching as she swept along the visible ridge of his erection, then hitched even more sharply when she tugged that waistband down and her lips brushed warm skin. 

He growled low in his throat, his fingers tightening on her when she tugged and his boxer briefs joined his jeans on the floor, and a sigh rumbled through him as she caressed him gently, then drew him into her mouth.

“Syd…” His whisper was breathless and husky at the same time as she swirled her tongue along his length, from base to tip and back. She took her time, teasing each bit of sensitive male flesh as she moved over it, her fingernails grazing over the firm mounds of his ass, down along the backs of his muscled thighs, down over the sensitive backs of his knees, teasing the backs of his calves before coming back up. He shivered against her, his sighs replaced by low moans now.

She stroked along him, around him, tightened her lips about him, gave a gentle pull, only to ease the pressed and stroke back toward his base. With each caress, his breath came faster and harder, his fingers twisted tighter and his hips moved with her as he met her rhythm and she met his. 

He tensed against her, then gently pulled free with a whispered, “Oh, wait—oh, honey… you are about to get a mouthful of happy if you aren’t careful.”

With that, he bent to her and eased her onto her back once more. Her legs parted, he settled between them, and she bit down on her bottom lip as he filled her to thrust deep. With each thrust, Syd lost herself in him, moving with him as they neared that amazing summit. A sinful smile played at his lips, his eyes were smoldering cobalt, locked with hers as he moved faster now, as his thrusts came harder and he arched deeper. She trembled around him, her fingernails sinking into his shoulders, her thighs pressing against his sides as the first tingles of her orgasm rippled through her to take root. 

Frerin’s medallion swung wildly as he surged faster still, clipping her chin in a steady rhythm, but she didn't care. He felt so utterly amazing, and she melted all around him in a fiery crescendo that had her clinging to him as she erupted, her fingernails sinking deeper into his shoulders, her voice throaty as she cried out, “Frerin!”

He gave a last, powerful thrust, shuddering as he came, growling her name while she tightened all around him. His eyes closed, a muscle bulged beneath his beard, and then… he sank against her, fighting for breath, a fine mist of perspiration along his back, and his head came to rest against her breast, his whispered, “Holy—holy fuck… Syd…” breathless and somewhat dazed. 

She wrapped her arms about his neck, pressing a gentle kiss into the top of his head for a change, smiling as he shivered against her one last time. “You okay?” she murmured, stroking the hair over his right ear.

“I’m fine, honey,” he whispered, although he did still sound a little dazed. His breath came softly across her breast, and she smiled as he brushed the inner curve with a light kiss. 

The sunlight danced along his dark hair, highlighting the golden and reddish strands tucked in amongst the darker ones. She brushed her fingers through it, smiling as he shivered against her and whispered, “Mmm…” in a sleepy voice.

“Yes?” She traced her fingers back, biting back a chuckle as he shivered again. 

“Oh, that feels nice.”

A car door sounded and Syd’s gut kinked. They were in the parlor. The moment that front door opened, whoever stood on the opposite side of the threshold was in for a surprise. 

Frerin was on his feet in a flash, scooping up the pile of clothes and they bolted for the staircase at the same time, making it halfway up as the front door opened and Gram called, “Syd?”

Riley let out a woof and dashed down the stairs, her nails clattering on the hardwood floor. A moment later, Gram let out a laugh and said, “Easy, puppy! Let me get in the door?”

“My protector,” Frerin said with a grin as they reached Syd’s room and he pushed the door by before handing her her clothes. 

“She stayed up here the entire time, though. I forgot she was even here.” Syd pulled on her thong and bra, then jumped into her jeans. 

“She’s used to you. And used to us going at it like rabbits.” He grinned as he stepped into his jeans. “I mean, Syd, we’ve christened pretty much every flat surface in my house over the last few weeks.”

“Yeah,” she returned his grin, “I know. It’s been great.”

He reached for her, tugging her close, and whispered, “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, Syd, you know that? And I just wish I’d seen it sooner. Then none of this whole fucking mess with Tori would have happened.”

“Everything is going to be fine,” she told him with a confidence she wasn't at all sure she really felt. “I’ve got an idea and I want to run it by Gram first, but I think it’ll work.”

The sound of footsteps on the stair treads had them jumping apart again, and by the time Gram rapped on the door, Syd and Frerin were dressed once more. Riley came bounding back up the stairs and into Syd’s room. As she curled up on her dog bed, Syd turned to Gram. “Do you have a minute, Gram? There’s something I want to run by you.”

Gram looked from her to Frerin, and her forehead creased even as she nodded. “Sure. Is everything okay between the two of you?”

Despite her heavy thoughts, Syd couldn't help her smile as she held out her hand. The tanzanite sparkled as she said, “Frerin asked me to marry him and I said yes.”

Gram’s eyes went wide as she looked down at the ring, then back up at her and her eyes then grew shiny as she pulled Syd into her arms, hugged her tight and whispered, “Good. You two belong together, you know.”

Syd tucked her head against Gram’s neck, the hint of Chanel No. 5 hovering about her. Gram squeezed her, then stepped back and to Frerin said, “You do realize, if you hurt my Sydney, you will pay for it.”

Frerin’s eyes widened momentarily and he shook his head. “I’m not going to, Mrs. Prescott. I’m not stupid enough to make the same mistake twice.”

Syd’s gut kinked for the millionth time that day when Gram’s brow furrowed. “I beg your pardon?”

“Nothing, Gram,” Syd broke in. “So, can we talk?”

Gram nodded. “Of course.” She looked back at Frerin. “As long as everything is all right here?”

“It is.” Frerin gestured toward Riley. “I’m just going to take her for a quick walk. And I promise to steer clear of any and all people.”

“Be careful,” Syd told him. “She’s sneaky and she’s evil.”

“I know. And I will.” Frerin bent toward her and brushed her lips with a light kiss, then drew back and whistled, saying, “C’mon, Rile.”

As he and Riley vanished down the stairs, Syd turned to Gram. “I have an idea about how to get rid of Tori for once and for all, but I want your opinion on it and you have to be honest with me, Gram, because I’m not at all sure you’re going to like it.”

Gram’s forehead smoothed as much as it ever would and she let out a slow breath. “If it’s what I think it is, Sydney, no. I don't like it one bit.”

“But will you do it?”

“Of course I will.”

Gram scowled. “I don’t like this at all.”

“You promised.” Syd leaned against Gram’s closed bedroom door and stared hard at her grandmother, the way Gram used to stare her down when Syd was a teenager had been up to no good. “You said you’d do it.”

“I know, but—” Gram sat on the edge of her queen sized bed, wrinkled hands folded in her lap, and stared down at them as if she’d never seen them before. “What if it goes wrong?”

“It can’t go wrong.”

“Syd, you know there are no guarantees.”

“I know, but we don't really have the luxury of thinking that way, do we.”

Silence stretched between them for several long minutes, then Gram slowly shook her head and looked up, her eyes bright. “Are you sure about this?”

“I am.”

Gram tried to smile, but Syd noticed it never reached her eyes. “Very well. Where do we begin?”

[rainintheevening]

For the OC ask game and Aster-Ryn, alone, desire, fear, and midnight?

Okay, let's see if I can do this right this time...

From these asks.

Ooo, some good picks here!

Again, for some context, Aster-Ryn is Obi-Wan’s padawan in my raised-as-a-Sith Anakin AU. She's a Zabrak, and is the same age as Anakin.

alone: How does your OC deal with loneliness? Have they ever been completely alone before? How do they act when there's no one around to see them?

Aster-Ryn is an outgoing extrovert, she gets energy from being around people, and she makes friends easily. Her top love languages are Quality Time and Physical Touch. Growing up in the Temple, she was never truly lonely, as Jedi can keep each other company in the Force. Sometimes though, after an argument with Yajii, Aster-Ryn definitely felt alone. She does need quiet time though, and often takes walks in the terrace gardens and the Hall of a Thousand Fountains. When she's alone, she will either be thinking very seriously about something that recently happened, daydreaming, or singing something.

break: What would cause your OC to break down completely? What do they look like when that happens? Has anyone ever seen them at their lowest?

Doing this one because I already did 'desire'.

Losing Obi-Wan.

She adores him, he's her hero, she thinks he's perfect. She calls him her anchor, keeps her from flying off the handle all the time. To her, the galaxy spins around him. If she had lost him in the first year of the war, she would have fallen to pieces. With the help of others, she would hopefully not fall to the Dark Side, but she would definitely come close. She would run the biggest risk of swinging to the complete opposite of caring about no one, and not letting herself love to avoid feeling that pain again.

She comes close to losing Obi-Wan in the war several times, and through that she also learns to see his weaknesses, that he doesn't know everything, he doesn't get it all right, and he won't always be able to come to save her. But that makes her stronger in the end, both in her ability to love and her ability to let go.

fear: What is your OC's greatest fear? What do they do when confronted with it? Are they open with their fear, or do they hide it away?

Not being enough. Not being able to save someone when they need her. Disappointing Obi-Wan. Not becoming a Jedi Knight by the time she's 18.

As she gets older, she gets better at identifying and dealing with those fears, at doing what she needs to do anyway. The war, and everthing that happens with Vader/Anakin, really puts her through the fire with all those fears, and when it comes down to it, and the pinch, she doesn't Fall, she lets go of those fears when she has to. She trusts Obi-Wan implicitly, and though there's a few years before the war when she's trying to be more independent and cool (which leads to a solid friendship with Depa Bilaba), in the end she always runs to Obi-Wan.

(He's glad she trusts him so much, but sometimes he's afraid of letting her down.)

midnight: What keeps your OC up at night? Do they have nightmares? Fears? Anxieties? What do they do in the small hours of the morning when they should be sleeping?

She sleeps well, most of the time. Not so well the first several months of the war. Sometimes if Obi-Wan is gone, she struggles to fall asleep. She lives with him, and is super used to having him across the room. It isn't easy to sleep when it's too quiet, so then she meditates in the Force until she falls asleep.

Her worst recurring nightmares are the one where all her horns fall out, and the one where she's been kicked out of the Order and she has to get back to her room, but she's naked and Obi-Wan is nowhere to be found and it's awful. The second one she doesn't tell Obi-Wan about until years later, when she can laugh about it.

If she's up early, she usually either meditates, reads something, or slips away to one of the music halls to sing or play a little.

[potatoesandsunshine]

aaaaahhhhh 1) you posting the name of your Dragon Age WIPs made me remember that I forgot to post the name of any of mine damn but 2) because I trust you implicitly and you are the only person who has ever made me question my staunch opinion of NEVER learning anything about Sebastian, I gotta ask about your 'hawkebastian bad ending' AND/OR also...josie...yes, please talk to me about josie....

<3 <3 <3 oh i WILL talk about both

hawkebastian bad ending is also the working document for the potential hawkebastian ‘good’ ending timeline, and also the place I took notes during my most recent DA2 playthrough (Jessalyn Hawke You Are Everything To Me). I won’t try to sell you on Sebastian because I think this might be one of those ‘the version of this character that exists in my head is better than the one in the game’ situations—but the version that exists in my head is incredible. We meet him in act 1 and his family is all dead, foreshadowing how all of Hawke’s family will be dead, and I find him so miserable and tragic and compelling. Playing this save and doing the rivalmance for him also lets Hawke say a bunch of anti-Chantry stuff and I hate the Chantry so it’s a huge win. 

The Jessa/Sebastian dynamic is so so extremely reputation to me. Delicate is their song. Call it what you want is also their song. Also don’t blame me is their song. Basically if it’s on reputation (and I like it) it belongs to them. And I thought it would be so much fun for my aggressive, direct Hawke to fall head over heels at first sight for the Worst Possible Person.

It takes a bold man to shoot a piece of paper out of the Grand Cleric's hand. Jessa's heart gives a tremendous thump.

These two characters are desperate to escape the loneliness vortex inside of themselves and they do that by secretly getting married in the middle of act 2 after killing a bunch of bandits and having life-affirming sex in a barn that they both decide they need to Take Responsibility for, telling literally no one besides the Mother at the provincial Chantry in the middle of the woods around Tantervale, and then talking themselves out of it by the time they return to Kirkwall. This leads to either the ‘bad’ timeline, where Jessa kills Sebastian at the end of the game when he threatens Kirkwall and demands you kill Anders, subsequently going back to do a takeover of Starkhaven and naming herself regent (a weird Loghain parallel which I’m super into?); or the ‘good’ timeline where she kills Anders and they return to Starkhaven to rule together (but she always remembers that he wants her as a weapon before he trusts her as his wife). There’s definitely not a ‘happy’ timeline for them! They are always at their happiest in that barn, alone together.

   "I have this dream," she says, in that odd, soft way of hers. Her fingers card through his hair, more touch in the last day than he's had in the past year. He is hers, utterly, blasphemous as it is.

   Rain is still coming down on the dilapidated barn. The air smells fresh and new, and the wind is cool enough to raise goosebumps all over her skin.

   "Tell me?" he offers—he offers, like it's easy, like he's not starving for any piece of her, like he won't die if she stops touching him.

   "We never came to Kirkwall. We went somewhere else, somewhere kinder. My brother is a knight and my sister is happy and my mother is quietly proud of them." She is so very vulnerable, even with her hand at his neck. So very lost and lonely, a bird with a broken wing, searching for a safe perch.

   He has never—not even when she walked into the Chantry with blood under her nails, proclaiming his justice done—been more drawn to her. He has never felt so hollowed-out with need. He tries to be a virtuous man. He tries to be a good man. But right now, with her hand in his hair and his cheek against her chest, he wants to keep her. And he knows she wants to keep him—Hawke never wants to let anyone go.

   "And you?"

   "Oh, I suppose I marry someone sweet and have a lovely garden." Her nails scratch his scalp gently. A cat would purr. "We choose each other, and we're happy."

   "Jessalyn," he manages, pushing through the comfortable fog she has him in. "Jess-ah." Her grip on his hair tightens.

   "We choose each other," she repeats, more focused, her eyes boring into his. And he knows what she's going to say, as she tilts his face up into hers and catches his mouth in a brief, fierce kiss. And he has never, never wanted anything so badly.

   "I pretend it's you," she whispers, and he cracks clean through.

-------------------------------------

josie.... is actually the document where I write send your letter, i’ll reply (please ignore how that fic has not been updated since 2021, it is not dead I am still tinkering with it!) It’s actually a fic about Josephine witnessing a friendship blossom between Trevelyan and her sister Yvette! I thought Yvette was so much fun during WE&WH, and I love writing about how outsiders see video games happen, so she was a perfect way in to these characters. Josephine deals with her lover becoming best friends with her sister, the dismantling of the Inquisition as an organization, and the realization that she’s done the work and gets to have the happy ending. The first two chapters are finished, but the third is still in the bullet-point outline stage:

Letter from Kirkwall. Josephine has been settling matters in Antiva. Evelyn spent three days in Otswick before leaving, getting a room at the Hanged Man, and becoming a comtesse. Letter from Varric—don’t let her go back to Otswick, Ruffles. She gets all mixed up. Letter from Evelyn—I miss you, I love you, I’ll see you soon.

Trevelyans got kicked out of Orlais for breaking sumptuary laws headcanon here, an ancestor who discovered the right combo of pigment for Mock Imperial Blue and subsequently had to flee the country. Painting connection to Yvette :)

There are whispers in Antiva for months preceding Yvette Montilyet’s inaugural exhibition. They move beyond the circles of artists; three of the merchant princes requested to see the paintings in advance and five others sent spies. All were easily dealt with—the princes regretfully informed by the artist that the work was in no state to be viewed, the spies turned away by a few Friends and one resident assassin with a habit of walking the Montilyet estate at night. There is such a kindness to Evelyn. It is nonexistent when security threats arise.

What is their life together like? The Herald of Andraste resides a very short distance from Antiva City, and is often found in the studio of a novice painter. Yvette has had fine teachers, but she has not made a name for herself yet.

Beyond a brief presentation to the Queen of Antiva, the Herald has attended no formal court events. She has refused to sit for anything more than a sketch, even for the artist most in favor with the Empress of Orlais. 

Her portrait will be the centerpiece of Yvettes first exhibition. 

Josephine hasn’t seen it either.

It is not a portrait of the Herald of Andraste at all. It is Evelyn, only Evelyn, in the solarium. // Dressed simply—quiet blues and greens, no hint of the formal dress from Halamshiral. Her hair is in a cloudy bun, each wisping strand shot through with sunlight. Across her shoulders, poking fun at a chain of office, is a daisy chain. // She faces the viewer, hands resting in her lap. Everything about her posture speaks to regality; her chin is raised and her shoulders are squared. And then there is her expression. // The serious line of her mouth pulls up at one side, lips pressed together. Her eyes are lively, engaged. // Josephine’s breath catches, somewhere around the time she sees the freckles bunched up on Evelyn’s nose. This is—it is— // The opposite of every portrait, every rumor. There is no declaration of divinity or piety, no assertion of power. Not a single overt symbol. It could be any noblewoman. // Josephine reads the title, Lady Trevelyan Discussing Literature. // Yvette has captured the moment before Evelyn laughs. // No, they will not be parting with this painting. Not for anything.

No declarations of love come for Yvette in the wake of the exhibition, which she pouts over for a time. No censure comes from the Chantry for a disrespectful depiction of the Herald of Andraste, which lets Josephine breathe a sigh of relief.

Her mother has the portrait installed in the family gallery. Evelyn takes to haunting there, too.

The Anchor always hurts her, even now. They have separate bedrooms, connected by a door, and it is not uncommon for Evelyn to begin the evening in Josephine’s bed only to vanish in the night. The pain keeps her awake and restless, and Josephine is yet more grateful to Yvette, who is one of the only people capable of distracting Evelyn.

More than once, the two are discovered giggling next to the kitchen hearth by an indulgent cook. 

Basically, They Are In Love and even when things are tough, they work out :)

[idontknowreallywhy]

EEEEEEE our Actual Thunderbird 🥰

Cóic is gorgeous, I want to give her a big feathery cuddle. And that image of the two of them, John with his long hair flowing in her breath and her white and gold colouring… just beautiful.

And she has turquoise eyes too!! They match! I wonder if his always were or if the bond did something and his changed from a more usual human colour to the unique colour we are familiar with?

Ok… so you already know how much I am geeking out about the lore here! I mean ancestral memory is a fantastic mythic concept to play with anyway, especially in a dragon context but to have it as the AU version of Five having access to all the online data ever is genius. GENIUS! The scale thing I am morbidly intrigued by… how’s it stay on? Did they implant it? Did it stick and kinda grow into him?

Anyway, they are holding each other up and talking each other down and it’s everything a dragon and their human should be and I love them.

I adore the image of John sitting on Mom’s lap, perhaps cradling Cóic’s egg, absorbing everything she had to say like a sponge. He definitely understands the responsibility, unlike Gaat who is clearly a ridiculous man - why are you arguing with the Matriarch you absolute boofhead?

His memories of the flight are so vivid and atmospheric - gosh it was a long way. And OH Kyrano and Gaat as Mom’s brother and half-brother…. Ouch. Ouch because he takes her first eventually. Love the reason for their special bond is being far from home together.

A half they could do without is such a fab line 😏 90% chance Lucy used to his face that at some point.

The revelation of dragons took a longer time to settle. 😁 CAN YOU IMAGINE?? I mean obviously you can and do, but ha, bet that would have been quite the moment…

“SON! You yet live! This is a glorious day! ARGH!!! A dark scaly demon had pursued you here!”

Interesting to ponder how Mathair Chriona would have reacted. Was she chilled and immediately taking the change in her stride… of or was she the last to come around? I can see it either way…

Aww the hatching *squeee* and their familiar banter over her newborn appearance even now in a stressful situation.

It’s truly interesting that John still doesn’t Understand the dragons. You’d think that having that knew them all and all their history and secrets essentially living in your head would mean he had a pretty good idea… but what is it about the call he doesn’t understand? The idea that a dragon would give their all to save a stranger? But surely that is not so very different from the O’Treasaighs approach to life? Or was it not at that time? Does their sharing life with dragons give them new perspective?

But that ending Nutty - Cóic is happy and he trusts her implicitly so… why is John so unsure? Why does fear creep in? WHAT ARE THEY WORRIED WILL HAPPEN HERE??

Cethair (Bit 2)

Óen | Cethair - Bit 1 | Bit 2

Glossary (contains backstory spoilers)

Many thanks to @onereyofstarlight, @idontknowreallywhy, @womble1 and @sofasurf for all their amazing support of my writing.

Here we continue with the fic about Gordon, but this bit focusses on Johnny and a little backstory.

Sorry for the delay in writing. I will get there eventually.

I hope you enjoy.

-o-o-o-

John was beside himself. Cóic’s thoughts were a turmoil and her heart anguished.

“It was not your fault, my love.” He reached up, ever so glad of his lanky height to reach her eyebrow feathers and rub her gently. “You know Gordon-“

She snorted, warm breath catching his long hair and tossing it about.

“Yes, he has a history of rapscallion-hood, but you know his heart. He would not have acted any other way, even should he have known this outcome. He did this for us.” He let his forehead rest against her white and gold cheek feathers, soft in their strength. “As did our father.”

That was a raw wound in his heart. Losing their father and king, his strength…all because…

It was Cóic‘s turn to interrupt his train of thought, sour that it was. He reached his fingers to his left temple, closing his eyes as her mind enveloped his.

It truly was magic. To be held like a child in the arms of a giant. Cóic had inherited the memories of the Ages, those who had come before, and the wisdom that entailed. But she was still young, unable to access it all until she was fully grown. Kyrano had spoken of it as a burden and part of John feared his beloved dragon would lose some of herself the day she came into her knowledge.

And feared he wouldn’t be good enough.

His father had spoken to him from a very young age about the importance of the gift he had been given, the honour it was to help guide a Matriarch into adulthood.

His mother’s family had been stewards of the great dragons across the Western Ocean and when the Matriarch of the tribe chose him to be the companion of her unborn child, the O’Treasaigh family had been ever so honoured.

His mother had held him in her lap telling him stories of the old ones and legends of their tribe leading back into the darkness of the past. How the tribe had grown strong and safe with the dragons, the great Thunderbirds. And how, in each generation one was chosen for the next Matriarch, the next great Thunderbird. Chosen for his mental prowess and agility, his strength for love and for kindness.

The Matriarch had chosen John.

And Gaat had not agreed.

John hadn’t been aware of it at first, until one day their father announced they were returning home.

As far as he and his brothers were concerned, they were home. The land of the Matriarch was all they had ever known. They were, of course, aware that their father was from across the ocean, very far away indeed. And they knew the story of how he had entered these lands held in Óen’s claws, a half-dead bedraggled mess - Kyrano’s words, not John’s.

The tales of Ériu, a land of eternal green and bounty, of their grandfather, Flaithri O’Treasaigh, king of their lands, and their grandmother who had trained in the Temple and knew all the medicines and was so kind to their people.

It would have been harder to leave if Gaat hadn’t forced the issue. John was still young when it all happened, but he remembered the fires and the screams. His mother grabbing him and Cóic, still in her egg, and bundling them up in furs so warm.

Of Óen’s bellows and fire, all the family’s dragons taking to the air in the darkness, his mother’s reassuring words as she held him close, his father’s voice firm and strong.

John shook himself. He often drifted when held by Cóic. He suspected she had interest in his memories and his point of view. They were so different, yet together they were one.

The family had returned to Ériu to great fanfare. The Flaithri was over joyous to have his son not only return, but with a wife and three strong sons.

The revelation of dragons took a longer time to settle, but eventually the O’Treasaigh family settled back into a new comfort, a new home that was as full of history as their previous.

The Kyrano family had travelled with them, their mother’s brother exercising the right to ensure her safety. Scott had once confided in John claiming Kyrano wanted to get away from Gaat as much as any of them. Gaat was a half-brother to both their mother and Kyrano, and a half they could both do without.

But as time passed and they all settled, it was good to have another family from across the Western Sea to share memories with.

Gordon and Alan were born one after the other and the Flaithri doted on both the young children. Five strong sons were cause for as much celebration as three.

The day Cóic hatched, John’s life changed.

He had slept with the egg every night, kept it warm as his mother instructed. It had so long been his companion, it was second nature to keep it safe. Until early in the morning dark, he had been awoken by movement and shattering eggshell.

She had bowled him over in eagerness, landing on his chest, still dripping with egg fluids. He had been bewitched by her beautiful turquoise eyes - to this day, he still was - though it had taken some time for her gold-tipped white feathers to fully come in. As a hatchling she had been rather scrawny, more like a bald bird than a dragon.

The wave of fond mock-offence had him smiling and he suspected that his response was her purpose in sending it.

It also brought him back to the present and separated him a little from her embrace. Today was one of mourning but in it there may be hope.

Cóic rumbled deep in her throat.

John startled. “Have you a response?”

The matriarch had sent out a request, across dragon minds seeking one willing to give everything for a heroic young prince. One willing to make the sacrifice to save him.

How the dragons saw his people, why they served, associated, and loved their human counterparts was not clear. While Cóic never hesitated to share her thoughts with him, there was seeing and feeling, but understanding was not a given. Dragonkind had its mysteries and its purpose and it was other than what humans pursued or recognised. It was also something John could only accept and trust.

But the call out across the seas and the land looking for one willing to give everything for a stranger…only clarified dragon difference. It was a hope, but it was also a terror, an unknown.

Cóic warbled, her heart lifting. She touched her great head gently to John’s.

She had an answer.

Her reassurance was a boon. Gordon could be saved.

As his fingers drifted through her neck feathers and he climbed into her saddle, his hope was joined by fear and his heart ached.

-o-o-o-

Next

[kanotototori]

Chapter 100 Thoughts (Part 1)

(Part 1) (Part 2)

Well.

I wasn’t going to do a Chapter 100 Thoughts, but it has come to my attention that my fave isn’t being talked about enough so it is not only my right but also my sworn duty to talk about Father as the resident #1 Father enjoyer and Father stan, PhD.

Let’s get right into it without much further ado, shall we?

Dated: June 7, 2022 (technically it’s already the 8th but whatever)

Even though this first scene is such a short one, there is a lot to unpack here. I would say that I’m mildly surprised that I haven’t seen it discussed almost at all on either Tumblr or Twitter, but I understand that most people are either just not paying much attention to Father or write it off as Abuser Tantrum #3294 of this arc.

But I feel like it says a lot in very few words.

First of all:

I feel like this dialogue beautifully and subtly conveys a dichotomy in Father’s character that throws a lot of casual readers and non-Father enjoyers for a loop.

“Useless... Why didn’t he strike down Amaterasu while she was within his reach?!”

The first, thinking about things in relation to his own personal goals: he wanted to strike down Amaterasu, and is angry that Yukine didn’t do it despite having the chance to - that small “useless” goes a long way to show Father’s perception of people as tools.

“What about his revenge on his father?! You said that you were absolutely not going to let him get away with it, right, Yuuki?!”

But then, the second... it gets a bit more personal in an indirect way. You can learn a lot about Father from the way he talks to and about other people because he notoriously projects very heavily onto other characters, as I’ve talked about in the past with my other meta and chapter thoughts.

And here, it’s especially important since we canonically know that Father sees himself in Yukine - in his mind, they share those feelings of despair and betrayal.

Chapter 96

So with that it feels less about his goal and more about Father’s perception of Yukine - and his perception of their relationship, in a way. They are two sides of the same coin and Father could never give up his revenge, so why is Yukine thinking of giving up? Wasn’t he going to make them pay, like Father wants to make the ones who had put him through so much pay?

This displays very well how these two sides of Father exist concurrently with each other: on one hand, thinking about the goal, about what other people can do for him; on the other... something wholly more personal. More raw and vulnerable.

And, of course, that “damn traitor!” on the bottom... the “personal, vulnerable, raw” side of Father escalates even further on the next page:

Before we actually talk about this page, I feel like I need to put the timeline of Noragami into perspective here because it can feel elongated due to the slow update schedule:

Father has first talked to Yukine in person maybe a week ago in canon. One week. Hagusa has been Father’s shinki for two days, three days tops. These two barely know each other and Father is having such a visceral reaction to this and calling him a traitor and everything... in my opinion, it very clearly indicates there is more going on here than just “my plan isn’t going my way.” Again, two sides of Father that exist concurrently: one is like, what about the goal, you were going to cut down Amaterasu and you didn’t, and the other is like... you betrayed me, you’re a traitor, what about your revenge? (And, implicitly, I thought you were like me.)

I didn’t think that Father would have quite this much of a reaction but I should have known that it was heading this way from this page, which I’ve talked about a few times previously:

“Poor Hagusa. You thought you had a home, a family waiting for you. But you never did. That’s why you crave them so badly... I can give you what you want. The only home you’ll ever have is with me.” (official trans. because I think it makes it a little more clear)

Chapter 87

This is like, a day into their cooperation as master and shinki. You want a home, you want a family, and I can give you that... knowing what we now know about Father, it is such a self-report.

And probably why Father is having the reaction that he is. Two orphans, without a home, without a family, so wronged by the world... Father can’t comprehend why Yukine is thinking the way he is. Again, Father is so entrenched in his own trauma and being the meanest fish in the pond as a result of that that he gets incredibly narrow-sighted.

But I digress!

Again, that emotional, vulnerable, raw side of Father taking helm here, and you can tell so very easily by the “Forgiveness is how a loser excuses himself.”

I mean, seriously, oof.

Literally 2 chapters ago Father had an entire internal monologue about how the weak die and only the victors survive, how he’ll expose the GGS as many times as it takes to win, and how he did anything to survive - this is the kind of mindset that Father has internalized not only for himself, because he had to survive as a child and later adult in an incredibly hostile environment (as I’ve explained in my previous post, “On Father and Yato”), but it is also the standard that he has for others. Because that’s how he sees the world.

Losing was not an option for Father, because that would have meant death. So, by extension, forgiveness is not an option, either - because that’s an excuse that a loser makes for themselves, which Father cannot be.

And all of this is like, so intrinsically connected to his past, to the whole incident with the monk - his words, “at least try to keep fighting back!”, even brought to mind the imagery of Baby Father wrestling with him on the cliff - where he trusted someone and was subsequently betrayed and, arguably, abandoned, left all alone with no family and no home. It struck an incredibly raw nerve and Father is going into his fight with Yato in that emotionally vulnerable state. This is going to be important.

I was going to say that there’s, again, that recurring theme of betrayal for Father, but he’s more reacting to Nora calling Yukine by Yukine and Yato by Yato, hence why he says “they’re Yaboku and Hagusa”... but then I realized that his rebuttal here is the response to the notion that they had betrayed him.

(Also, I find the need to again reiterate that Hagusa has been Father’s shinki for 2 days. If it was only “Yaboku”, I would have looked at it a little differently - you could argue it could be something similar to the scene with Hiyori back in the hospital arc where he told her that Yato’s name is Yaboku - but Hagusa? They barely know each other. It’s more than just about that.)

Names are obviously incredibly important in Noragami, not only to shinki, but to gods and humans as well. They embody a person’s entire identity - this is especially true for shinki, whose names were granted by a god (or, in this case, a human-turned-god wielding the Word). Those names are a blessing from their master, and mark the shinki as theirs; and shinki, at least to the gods we see in our main cast, are not just servants but something akin to a family or a clan. They give all members of the group a sense of belonging, as much as they are a sign of “ownership.”

And so it goes with Father and “Hagusa” & “Yaboku” - those names are something he bestowed upon them, they are intrinsically tied to him. I think, in a way, Father is desperate to know that someone is on his side. I think that’s going to have to be something I elaborate on another time because my brain doesn’t want to put my thoughts together in a cohesive and comprehensible format.

(Ironic thing is, Father does have someone who is in his corner unconditionally - Mizuchi. But Father overlooks her so much that he doesn’t really see that. I hope Father will actually get hit with the realization after hearing her say “I love you, Father” to him. Honestly, I think part of why he seems to be so indifferent towards her is because he can’t relate to her like he can to Yukine, and she’s not his child in the way that Yato is; Father said himself while naming her that he wanted someone who knew no good nor evil - that makes her malleable, perfect for progressing his ultimate goal, but that makes her not have much of a sense of identity herself, and certainly no shared experiences with Father (in his perspective).)

Before I get into The Fight (TM), the man himself, the main course of the evening, I gotta say this:

I just realized that Father knew about Yato’s relationship with Kazuma this entire time. That perfectly demonstrates what he says on the next page about being permissive with Yato and letting him hang out with whoever he wanted. Well played, Adachitoka-sensei.

Okay, before I get into the fight... (sorry, wall of text)

I’ve briefly talked about this before on here and on Twitter but I really do think that “Father’s and Yato’s relationship is abusive and toxic and manipulative and Bad” is a genuinely boring lens to read their relationship (and the relationship between Father and Mizuchi & Yato as a family unit) through.

Yes, it is an objectively true take on their relationship, one that literally every single reader (and even non-reader) of Noragami will agree on, including Father “stans” (using the term very loosely here) such as myself. It’s painfully obvious that this is what their relationship objectively is. But looking at a relationship purely through an objective, matter-of-factly lens will often overlook a lot of a relationship’s complexity - or, putting it simply, the emotional dimension of it: what the characters have individually gone through and how that shapes their perceptions of the world and of other people, how they see their relationship individually and as a whole, what they think and feel about the other, etc. Those aspects are as important to understanding the relationship between characters as the more “objective” dimension is.

For example, I don’t think anyone (or, at least, most Noragami readers... unless you’re a Yukine hater) would analyze Yato and Yukine’s relationship through the lens of only their relationship as master and shinki. It is an objective truth of their relationship, and that relationship isn’t exactly wholly functional - Yato keeps keeping things from Yukine, he named another shinki without his knowledge or consent, and Yukine, on the other hand, has stung Yato so severely that he was on death’s doorstep... three separate times, not to mention Yukine also went behind Yato’s back and got named by another master. If you look at it that way, it’s kinda like... yeah. What a mess.

But that’s not the whole story, is it? Because we also know how Yato’s past abuse influences not only his behavior but also his very perception of the world and himself, we know that Yukine has very deep-seated issues with abandonment and his own baggage from abuse at the hands of the father who killed him (although that’s subconscious for most of the series), we know that what Yato did - esp. during this arc - is because he loves and cares for Yukine, was thinking about his well-being and safety when he went out to fight Father, and Yukine reacted the way he did because, in his eyes, Yato naming Kazuma was betrayal. And, as readers, most people understand that and take that into consideration when looking at that relationship.

What I’m trying to get at, basically, is: why is it that all these other relationships in Noragami are afforded the acknowledgement of their emotional complexity, have all these different factors taken into consideration, while Father’s relationship to his children, esp Yato, is... not?

I get it, it’s not a relationship that a lot of people want to analyze due to the subject matter. It’s a sensitive subject, an incredibly complex one. But on the other hand... so often this relationship is boiled down to only its objective truth: Father is manipulative, abusive, toxic, and does use Yato & Mizuchi for his own ends... and then it is made the only aspect of their relationship: everything that Father does must be manipulation, he only uses Yato for his own ends and sees him as a tool, as a “thing” that he owns. It completely fails to take into account how Father perceives this relationship, what Father’s frame of mind even is (hello backstory), how Yato perceives their relationship and understands it (esp in this chapter, because it revealed so much imo).

It’s like onions, yo! It’s got layers! Looking at a whole, unchopped onion and saying “Wow, guess that’s all there is to it” is not some revolutionary take.

If there is one thing I will defend to the death, it’s Father’s complexity as a character.

Why am I bringing this up? Because I left a comment on a Reddit thread that was like “finally we got solid confirmation that Father cares about Yato as a son/family and not just a tool!!” and I got a thousand (not rlly) comments being like “how was it confirmed tho”, “Father was lying actually” and I am incredibly petty and need to defend the complexity of my fave. I’ve been thinking about this for nearly 7 years now, I’ve got files on top of files, do not even start that nonsense with me. :PP

And also, it’s great setup for the discussion ahead - to get everyone in the mindset.

(Continued in Part 2.)

[snakeliciousbaby]

Jump on the Sword Knight: Xander Harris and Suicidal Habits

Two of Xander's most beloved traits are that of his bravery and his loyalty. But I haven't heard anyone talk about another big trait of Xander's. Xander is generally suicidal with no self worth, and his 'white knight' habits are actually just self destructive ones, just badly defined.

I often see his moments in the Zeppo and Grave talked about as "xander at his best" and "very brave actions" but like. They're not particularly healthy moments, and they're not exceptions either. Over the entire course of the show, Xander shows a continued lack of concern for his own safety and life, sometimes shown by him jumping in front of a ray with no idea what it does, or more rarely, with him spelling it out for the audience.

One of the first big times we see him act this way is in Prophecy girl, where he refuses to listen to every adult who tells him going after Buffy is a death wish, and instead forces his way after her anyway.

Angel spells out that it's a suicide mission to him, and Xander ignores him entirely. He's perfectly fine with losing his life, as long as it can be vaguely justifed as benificial for someone he cares about.

Or of course, there's the scene everyone looks at fondly. Xander's little speech in the Zeppo, finished by this statement.

Which. Is just straight up an acceptance of death. As he says earlier to Jack, he knows he can't make it out anymore. Its simply a test with who's more okay with dying. And surprise surprise, it's Xander!

What's especially telling about both these scenes is that,,,xander never tells anyone about them. Xander's immediate instinct to help people is to die for them, but he doesn't go around saying so. And when he does have these moments,,he never talks about them. His conversation in Prophecy girl, and all he events of Zeppo remain a secret.

But are there any times where Xander is explicitly suicidal in a non life or death scenario? In fact, Yes! There's The Replacement.

Xander's bad qualities include clumsiness, low self esteem...and also his complete lack of self worth and consequential suicidal habits. He doesn't know who he's giving this life away to! He thinks it's a demon!!

And yet to him, he thinks that demon deserves it more than him, and that in this case, dying will help his friends. Even if, in this case, that 'help' is replacing him with a better version of himself.

And that's not the end of the suicidal habits in The Replacement! The conflict in the episode comes from him jumping in front of a mystery beam meant for buffy. Jumping in front of a beam to protect your friend with super slayer strength and healing, with your weak human body. Not the smartest decision!

And then, the idea that both his sides hate each other at first sight, and both try and kill each other immedietly?

Not the happiest implications!

Then of course, there's the other famous Xander scene. His speech to dark willow. And yet, while he brags about this speech in Same Time Same place, talking about the yellow crayon...he leaves out the other parts.

This continues his trend of not ever mentioning these actions to his friends. As if even he's subconsiously aware that they probably wouldn't aprove, and might be concerned for him.

Xander's plan here in Grave can be boiled down to: Well guess I'll die!

Which, as shown in the other examples, is the plan he defaults to. He doesn't care if willow kills him, he'll still love her. He's worth nothing, so if he can help her in anyway through his death, he's ready and willing to do it.

He doesn't think this is gonna work!! He's not playing 4d chess here, that's giles! This is just the admittance that, again, he's fine with her killing him, he's fine with dying.

This isn't the end of it though. Selfless is, justly named, another example of this kind of behavior. Xander runs in to "help" anya, except this helping can be summarised by trying to get between a slayer with a sword, and an immortal demon. And when D'Hoffyrn is threatening to kill anya..

Xander argues that anya is dumb for giving up her life....then immediately volutunteers himself implicitly. Her life is worth something, so it'd be foolish to give it up, while his on the otherhand, is perfect for taking.

This is another episode where in the show, someone compares Xander's actions to those of a knight's, with D'Hoffyrn calling him "gallant". Just as with Angelus, who is the one who first calls him a "white knight" for protecting Buffy's hospital room with his life, both statements come from 'people' who don't know or understand Xander.

These statements cloud the audience's view as well, because it is an attempt to reclassify these actions as "heroic", or even "selfish". Angelus is implying he's doing it to win Buffy, while D'Hoffyrn is implying he has nothing but pure healthy motivations. Both are incorrect.

Xander's motivations are arguably selfless, wanting to help his friends, but are fueled by a lack of self worth, which comes from years of abuse and being talked down to by every adult he encountered. Therefore they manifest in self destructive habits which can barely be defined as Heroic, when really they're a cry for help.

These habits are apparent all throughout the show, in smaller moments as well as the bigger ones.

Xander skates the line between chasing death and simply accepting it passively, depending on what he thinks needs to be done to "help" his friends.

His actions in these episodes, Prophecy Girl, Zeppo, Replacement, Grave, and so on, are not Xander at his best, but Xander at his most clearly unhealthy, and should serve as the red flags needed to go "uh oh, this boy really needs therapy!"

[kenxmatsui]

Ken nodded, understanding that need, "I won't keep you long, promise. I have to get back to Leyla soon too." But in this moment between moments, Rohan's presence was grounding him in ways he couldn't be thankful for. "I could use clarity, need a lot of that." While there were certain things Ken considered a waste of time, Rohan's craft was not one of them. They held a similar outlook on things too, fate and coincidences, the universe and its alignment of moments, for his personality it shouldn't make sense, that he placed faith into such whimsy things, but it made sense to him. "No no," he denied instantly, "You never come in-between, Leyla knows how much you mean to me, she'll be fine. Our friendship cannot diminish, it won't, and I refuse if you wish to see me less." Ken wasn't above standing outside his window glaring till Rohan came out either, he just hoped it'd never come to that.

He gripped the stone tighter and hoped his head would quieten enough to fully taken in what Rohan was saying. The cycle of hate and anger was within him, but how did he go about break that without letting himself break? Maybe Rohan was right, perhaps he just had to live with it and allow his friend to not let himself reach the point of destruction. With a sigh he faced Rohan, "I trust you speaking on such things implicitly of course," he said, "But more so because you've been through this feeling. Stalemate," he repeated with a nod, "I think I can mange that."

He didn't want this to be transactional, not with Rohan. "I know I know… I'm trying not to keep score either but it just can't be helped. You're my first true friend and I could never express the impact you have on me." He knew without a shadow of a doubt that however he seemed to be helping out, it was done in return tenfold. "You're everything that's what you are. Not a has-been or any of that. Career will pick up, you have a talent that lies beyond magic. I understand losing that part of you makes it seems like everything feel through, but it hasn't. I might not have the words to help you through this, so I will use your own words against you. You told me once, when I was in one of moods, to stop calling myself terrible things because I was your friend and you didn't like to hear such things said about your friend. So, don't do me that injustice now then." He placed a hand on his shoulder, "I'm here for you, you know that right? Part of the reason why I continue to live, it's for you too." Then with a shrug, he continued, "Besides I'm insanely stubborn and will argue back if you ever call yourself less than perfect. And you cannot win an argument against me."

Half huff and half of something that resembled a chuckle sounded from Ken as Rohan spoke, "I'd kill for a boring day too." He nodded then, releasing a slow exhale, "Weather one day, cards now. Okay. How much do you want to bet I get the tower."

END.

Rohan smiled, giving a gentle nod. "I know. But I'm rushing to Jonah because I need him. He'll spare me some patience. He's wonderful like that. I'll text him." And really, he did not think Jonah would hold it against him for helping a friend in need; Ken had helped him more times than he could count. "I could do a reading for you. Let's sit down. If nothing else, the cards provide clarity. Encourage you to think in was you might not have," he explained, but he did not elaborate further on his own current state. Despite Ken's earnest assertions, he was not sure he believed him. He had lost something so precious through his own actions. Rohan sighed. "I don't want to come between you and her, you know. If it's ever...too much, we can...cut it back? Hang out less. I really don't want to mess with your relationship. I would never do that. I care about both of you."

Pursing up his lips, Rohan regarded him with a furrowed brow, his gaze unmoving. He listened in silence, allowing Ken to speak, allowing him to spill into this safe room all that needed spilling. "I hate to tell you this, Ken, but I'm going to because I'm your friend. Aeschylus solved this whole problem in the 5th century B.C.E. Clytemnestra kills Agamemnon, so Orestes kills Clytemnestra. And then the Furies hunt him down to exact vengeance. And so the cycle of retaliation continues onward and onward and onward forever. We can't be that way. It's impossible, and no good comes from it." He shook his head. "You are so much more than your parents or the people that turned you, you know. And who am I? I'm in no position to talk because I did the same exact thing. I understand the desire to destroy ourselves. But I won't let you if you won't let me. We'll both just have to live in the stalemate."

He swallowed, watching him but refusing to move, deciding he would be the barricade to the encroaching, frothing dark if that was what Ken required in this moment. "It's not a game, Ken. I'm not keeping score. There are so many things I could never repay you for," he insisted, moving about the sink. "But of course you can. Truly numb people, truly dead people...they do nothing. That's not to say I'm advocating for physical harm here. I'm not. But anger makes you alive as much as anything else. Me? I don't even have that. I'm not angry. I don't know what I am." Rohan shrugged. "And that's the kicker, isn't it? I once was something. Now I don't know what that is. A friend is a great thing to be. But this will...I don't even have a career anymore. Everything's falling through. So here I am. Has-been."

Spinning around, he managed a smile, uncertain but stubborn in its insistence on itself. "So are you. You're absolutely brilliant. More alive than so many people. But fine, then. We'll both just have to commit to propping each other up, okay? Because I won't let you tumble, and I know you won't let me. So. Stalemate." He nodded, giving out a weak sigh. "A lot's happened, Ken. So much has happened, and yet, we both still found our way here. And we're both still standing here. I want for us to...be able to just live. Without all this. I'd kill for a boring day, you know? A dull dinner party. Just a day where nothing happens." He allowed his shoulders to slump. "One day we'll talk about the weather, alright? Let's promise."

"I know," he nodded giving Ken a tight squeeze. "You will be. We will be. All of us. Let's sit. Read cards."

[zuko-always-lies]

So, question, because I see people saying it often that Iroh has the right to feel animosity towards Azula because she made fun of/derided Lu Ten's death (or something like that), but does she actually do that in that scene? Or does she express disdain for Iroh's reaction, which considering the culture could easily be interpreted as Iroh being the one to make light of it? (Pretty sure there's at least one instance in _Romance of the Three Kingdoms_ where one character absolutely annihilates an opposing force because his brother/father/friend dies, if we want a real-world example of the mentality. Or, like, all of _The Hagakure_.)

Does Azula call Lu Ten a coward for dying? Or does she say that Iroh is for not "getting justice" or revenge for his son's death? For not finishing the task and abandoning the cause Lu Ten died for?

Because one of these means Iroh's dislike could be justified (nevermind the fact that he wasn't present for this conversation, so if he knew about it, he would have only heard about it from Zuko). But the other is an angry/disappointed/disgusted child calling an adult out.

Good question! I think I should start by talking about what Zuko and Azula actually say about Iroh.

"The Western Air Temple"(featuring 13 year old Zuko!):

Iroh: (Iroh looks on, concerned) Prince Zuko, it's only been a week since your banishment. (Cut to a far back view shot of the 2) You should take some time to heal and rest. Zuko: (turns around and raises his voice) What else would I expect to hear from the laziest man in the Fire Nation? (Cut to a close up of Iroh's slightly appalled face as he looks down and sighs) The only way (Cut back to a frontal shot of uncle and nephew) to regain my honor is to find the Avatar. So I will.

"The Headband":

Zuko: (standing at the bars) You brought this on yourself, you know. We could have returned together. You could have been a hero! (Iroh turns a shade further away from Zuko.) You have no right to judge me Uncle. I did what I had to do in Ba Sing Se, and you're a fool for not joining me. (Iroh is silent.) You're not gonna say anything? (Enraged, he kicks a stool and bends a blast of fire at the wall.) Argh! You're a crazy old man! You're crazy, and if you weren't in jail, you'd be sleeping in a gutter!

Zuko says some pretty negative things about Iroh, right to Iroh's face!

Now, what negative things does 14 year old Azula say about Iroh? Surprisingly little, even though she clearly doesn't like him. She implicitly calls him a traitor a couple times(during times when he is, in fact, a traitor by all reasonable definitions), but never really explicitly does so. Beyond that, there's very little. This is the only thing I can think of:

Azula: So...I hear you've been to visit your Uncle Fatso in the prison tower. Zuko: (standing, incensed) That guard told you.

Which is actually way less harsh than what Zuko says about Iroh! If anything, Azula's behavior in the present suggests that she only rarely criticized, much less mocked Iroh's behavior to his face when she was younger.

Now let's turn to the meat of your question, "Zuko Alone." There are two scenes in that episode where Azula criticizes Iroh. The first comes before Lu Ten's death:

Ursa: "And for Azula, a new friend. She wears the latest fashion for Earth Kingdom girls." (As Ursa speaks, Azula picks up a doll wearing Earth Kingdom green. The Princess makes a face of disgust.) Azula: If Uncle doesn't make it back from war, then dad would be next in line to be Fire Lord, wouldn't he? (In the background, Zuko runs around practicing with his new dagger.) Ursa: (disappointed) Azula, we don't speak that way. It would be awful if Uncle Iroh didn't return. And besides, Fire Lord Azulon is a picture of health. Zuko: How would you like it if cousin Lu Ten wanted dad to die? Azula: I still think our dad would make a much better Fire Lord than (looking at the doll with disdain) his royal tea loving kookiness. (She holds out the doll and makes its head burst into flame. The screen flashes white and the flashback ends.

There are several things which seem to be driving Azula's actions here. The first is a reaction to the massive favoritism Iroh just showed toward Zuko. The second is a belief, no doubt inspired by Ozai's poisonous statements about his brother, that Ozai, who Azula idolizes, would make a better Firelord than Iroh. Finally, Azula is a confused child who is asking inappropriate questions because she's too young to understand proper boundaries. Nothing she says here is actually that serious, and I would expect a responsible adult(i.e. not Ursa) to either shrug it off, or to carefully reason with Azula in order to explain why what she is saying is problematic.

Now we turn to the other main scene, the one right after Lu Ten's death, and the one you probably actually wanted me to talk about:

Azula: (getting up and walking over to him) By the way, Uncle's coming home. Zuko: Does that mean we won the war? Azula: No. It mean's Uncle's a quitter and a loser. Zuko: What are you talking about? Uncle's not a quitter. Azula: Oh yes, he is. He found out his son died and he just fell apart. (leaning against a nearby pillar) A real general would stay and burn Ba Sing Se to the ground, not lose the battle and come home crying. Zuko: (angry) How do you know what he should do? (looking down, sadly) He's probably just sad his only kid is gone... forever.

You might note that, again, Azula doesn't say anything negative about Lu Ten. You've already noted that Iroh is thousands of miles away at the moment, so having him be "justified" in his hatred of Azula by a conversation he didn't hear doesn't make sense.

Azula is also very angry in this scene, quite possibly the angriest we ever see her at any point. That does suggest that she's taking what's happened, either Lu Ten's death or the abandonment of the siege, very personally. I don't know enough to comment specifically on this, but you are right in that there might be cultural background which specifically proscribes the achievement of vengeance as being of particular importance, and Azula is thus outraged that Iroh failed to fulfill his duty to his son.

But that not at the core of Azula's critique here. What Azula is attacking Iroh for is that he responded to a personal loss by abandoning his duty in the heat of battle, and she is 100% right on this, not only by the standards of Fire Nation cultural but also by the standards of modern western culture. Fun fact: Abraham Lincoln, Jefferson Davis, and Robert E. Lee(screw the latter two, but that's another story) all suffered the loss of children they dearly loved in the middle of the American Civil War, yet none of them abandoned their duty. Archibald Roosevelt(another problematic figure) had two brothers die in WWII, yet he continued fighting on the front line. John W. Geary literally had his son die in his arms in the middle of battle, yet he continued commanding his unit well enough to prevail. Hell, we can even turn to Joseph Stalin here, to some extent.

Again, the core of what Azula says here is absolutely correct. Iroh is a "quitter" because he responded to Lu Ten's death by falling apart and abandoning the siege when it seemed on the brink of success, rather than continue the operation until victory. I don't think we need to go further than that to establish that Azula is entirely justified calling Iroh out here. And again, she doesn't criticize or mock Lu Ten at all, instead only attacking Iroh's reaction to Lu Ten's death.

[the-infamous-coat-of-baron-zemo]

Missed Opportunities | Helmut Zemo x Reader

Here's a little something I cooked up. Not sure what I want to do with it, but it was bugging me to be written. For better or worse.

This is a little Helmut Zemo/Female Reader moment. It has Sam and Bucky too. It's not fully developed, but hopefully you all can enjoy it for what it is.

OOOOO

You were in Germany when you got the call from Sam. He needed help locating the Flag-Smashers, and was hoping you could offer some assistance.

He just happened to call at the perfect time, because as it turns out, the person you went to visit was no longer around. So, since you had essentially made a trip across the ocean for nothing; you figured, why not? Might as well make something of your travels abroad and not make it a total loss.

Sam gave instructions to meet him at a residence in Riga, Latvia. He mentioned very little other than that. Technically though, that wasn't entirely his fault. You're pretty sure he intended to provide more information, but Bucky was shouting, "Hellos.", "You've been missed!", and her personal favorite, an exasperated, "Please save me from my tormentor."

After Bucky's outburst, Sam had seemed to have forgotten about you on the phone; so you were just listening to constant bickering in the background. All you could do was shake your head and laugh at this point. Truly, Earth's greatest defenders were simply children at times.

It was good to hear their laughs. It had been too long and the world was still recovering.

We all were.

Bucky, Sam, and you all disappeared when Thanos snapped his fingers, wiping out half the universe. When you all returned, there was love and there was loss all around, but it bonded the three of you in a friendship deeper than any of you could imagine.

Okay, perhaps, that's a slight exaggeration. You became extremely good friends with both James and Sam; however, the two of them are a different story altogether. They won't admit to their friendship, but you know they'll both come around one day. They're just being stubborn idiots. God, she missed those two guys. It's been months since she had laid eyes either one of them.

So, here you are, standing right out front the door Sam gave instructions to meet at.

You fiddled with the arm of the backpack strapped across your chest. You didn't think you'd be this nervous, but a combination of excitement and adrenaline had caused you to be a bit jumpy. You tried to shrug it off as you raised your hand to knock on the door.

Not even 10 seconds after you knocked on the door you heard the shuffle of footsteps, accompanied with the ever present response of, "I got it."

Only the footsteps halted abruptly and muffled discussions were faintly heard through the door. You couldn't make out what was being said, only that no further movement had been made to answer the door.

I swear to God, if they are simply having an argument about who gets to open the door, I am going to murder them both on the spot.

You were about to knock on the door again a bit more insistently, but you never got the chance as the door abruptly swung open to reveal Bucky.

As you stared back at one another, you couldn't help but noticed his tense appearance, which is not all that unusual for him, but it was a more strained posture. You assumed it had something to do with whatever was being talked about just moments prior to answering the door.

It couldn't have been too serious because seconds later he dropped all pretense and gave you a heartfelt smile before sweeping you up in his arms for a hug.

He all but dragged you inside, it only caused you to chuckle at his enthusiasm. Yeah, you had missed him a lot.

The hug continued to linger on, and you could hear the door behind you close. You were about to motion to Bucky to release you from his hold when you heard Sam pipe in highly amused, "Buck, give her some room to breath."

You could feel the glare James was giving Sam, but he did let you go eventually.

Upon the release from your hug, the sleeves of your blue hoodie had drifted past your hands; you pushed them up a bit where you could grab James's hand and squeeze it in silent thanks.

After letting go of Bucky, you turned around to face Sam, shaking your head and grinning at him with delight, "Never a dull moment around here is there?"

"Never," Sam replied. "It's my turn, now," holding his arms out, he smiled pulling you into a softer embrace, but no less enthusiastic.

You huffed out a laugh and hugged him back with equal fervor.

A few moments had passed, and you reluctantly untangled yourself from Sam. More pleasantries had been exchanged and small talk had filled up the space as you walked fully into open living space.

You did a turn about the room as you headed towards the kitchen area with the guys trailing behind you. You had grabbed the strap of your backpack and had lifted it over your head.

You were about to place your stuff on the kitchen island when you heard soft footfalls make their way from the outer hallway towards you.

The unexpected noise caused you to hesitate; you turned your head towards Sam and James with a puzzled expression on your face. You had opened your mouth with the intention to ask them who else was in the safe house with you, when you saw him.

The backpack you were holding had fallen out of your hands and onto the floor with a thud, but you couldn't tear your eyes off the man standing across the room from you now. Your face had gone completely slack jaw and eyes had widen in shock leaving you speechless.

You would normally have said something quippy in this moment, but your brain had stopped functioning.

The silence was finally broken from Sam's response to the situation.

"Okay, I know what this looks like. We can explain him," Sam cautiously said. "Actually, Bucky should be the one to share this story, since it was his idea."

You could hear the words Sam was saying, but they never really registered. You assumed he thought you were shocked because the man who stood in front of you once tore your friends a part. Because he was supposed to be in a prison in Germany. Any other number of reasons could potentially be listed. What Sam didn't realize, was that the man standing before you was the last person you saw before you disintegrated before his eyes, and this was the first time since that chaos you had seen him again.

Other than Sam's calm reply, it was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Perhaps it was because the same look of shock and awe was reflected on Zemo's face.

You tried to form a response, something, anything to say.

Neither Sam or Bucky knew you used to visit Zemo after he was imprisoned. Whenever you travelled to Germany, you would tell them you had a contact that only agreed to provide information face to face. They never put two and two together, but they also trusted you implicitly; so they had no reason to ever question your motives or who exactly you were going to see. You actually saw Zemo a fair amount of time. More often than not, it was always to learn about the inner workings of Hydra. While they may be diminished in capacity; they still had not been completely eradicated. And you were determined to locate and destroy every remaining Hydra base, and dismantle them once and for all. They took your parents from you, and you were going to make sure they couldn't hurt anyone ever again. So, Zemo had been the obvious choice to help gain as much information as possible in your quest.

So, over the course of 2 years, you had made several trips to see him. You could almost say you were on friendly terms, but mostly, you believed his kindness and willingness to provide information was a benefit to him. To interact with someone on the outside to remind him he's not completely alone in the world.

The last time you saw each other was a day like any other you would come to visit. You'd lean outside his glass cell and just talk. The prison only allotted an hour's visit. So you always had to make your time worth while.

This particular day was colder than usual for the time of year. And being left outside the prison hallway where Zemo's cell was located only caused the draft to further lower the temperature with the concrete walls. You had involuntarily shivered as a cold draft had blasted in from one of hallways. Zemo had taken notice and unzipped his hoodie, passing it off to the guard to hand over to you. In that moment, the realization came that things were no longer black and white between the two of you. When you asked him why, he simply shrugged and said it's what any gentleman should do. His expression had softened though and was no longer outwardly indifferent. You had put on the blue garment and zipped it up; tugging at the sleeves as the hoodie was much larger on your frame than his.

There was only about 30 minutes left of your visit when alarm bells started going off. Zemo had pushed himself against the glass to look down the closest hallway to try and see what was going on. You had tried to remain calm, but when the guard standing nearby had disappeared right in front of you both, you knew something was dreadfully wrong.

With visible panic on your face, you had whispered out the word Thanos to Zemo. You'll never forget what happened next or the expression on his face. There was a hitch in your lungs and a strong tugging sensation drifting through your chest. You stumbled into the glass and fell to your knees in front of Zemo. You had slumped onto your side trying to concentrate on what was happening to you. You peered up at Zemo as he had slid himself down the glass to your level gazing at you in concern. You could hear him shouting for help, but there was no one around. You placed your hand on the glass to get his attention, and only then did you realize, you had tears in your eyes.

He brought his hand up on the other side of the glass and placed it against where yours was. Funny how an instance can change everything between two people. You saw his eyes widen and that's when you noticed the right side of your body started to turn to dust. All you had time to say was, "I'm sorry," before you completely disintegrated before him, leaving him, no doubt, alone once again.

You would have laughed at the expression on his face now if you knew it hadn't been the first time he's seen you since....what happened. But there was nothing really funny about the situation.

You weren't quite sure what to do, but your feet made the decision for you as you slowly made your way to stand directly in front of Zemo.

It's the first time you've stood together without any glass between you both. He's a bit taller than you, but not by miles; you're chin roughly comes up to his shoulder.

You see him swallow as if he's also thinking of something to say, but instead you see him raise his hand up and start to reach out to touch you, but stops before actually doing it. Internally, you make your choice for him and reach up with your hand and grab the one he's left hanging in the air. It's just a light touch, almost as if you're both worried the other might not be real.

Zemo glanced down at you holding onto his hand and back at you briefly. He squeezed your hand gently and then you heard him release a harsh breath before gripping your hand tighter and yanking you into his arms.

You barely had time to think about what was happening before you were enveloped into the most emotional hug you've ever felt.

The reaction was unexpected, but then so were the circumstances you were in, so nothing should really surprise you, but you were. Your arms were slightly hovering over his back, not entirely sure at that moment what you wanted to do, as you were still in shock. But, after a brief pause you brought your arms firmly around his body and hugged Zemo back with just as much care and buried your face in the crook of his shoulder. You heard him mumbling words into the side of your head, but couldn't understand what he was really saying.

Time could have been standing still for the infinite period we were latched onto one another. It wasn't until the clearing of Bucky's throat that jarred us out of the moment. The noise wasn't loud, but the room had been so silent until then; it sounded like a freight train.

Realization must have hit us both at the same time that we weren't alone in the room, and we jumped apart as if lightning had struck us both.

At this point, you were looking at anything in room, but Zemo. You started playing with the ends of your sleeves in nervousness when Sam spoke up in a very slow and deliberate manner, "Would you care to explain to us, what is going on?"

"I thought you were going to have Bucky explain to me, why Zemo's not in prison!" you say back, not ready at all to try and explain things. You still needed to wrap your own head around it, before attempting to share your brief history with Zemo.

"Oh, no doll. This can wait," James answered. You could tell he was not happy, but maybe more confused than anything by how he responded.

Both were assessing Zemo to try and figure out if this is some sort of game to him. Bucky had reached out to grab your arm and pulled you gently away from the criminal mastermind and closer to them to instinctually protect you from him.

You outwardly sighed, knowing there was a long conversation about to happen.

Zemo took a step forward and James took a step back bringing you with him. Sam seemed perturbed over the entire situation, but Zemo spoke up first.

"Is that, what I think it is?" he said. Zemo cocked his head to the side and eyed you with amusement.

You silently shook off the hold Bucky has on you and raise an eyebrow at him to not try that again. You swiveled back to Zemo, placing your hands on your hips. Confusion was written clearly on your face as you answered him back, "Could you be a little less vague?" A small smile graced your face in reply.

Zemo pointed at your midsection and a smug expression appeared on his face.

"I must say, you look quite fetching in my clothes."

You were physically startled by his comment. You had forgotten you were wearing his hoodie. It's why you went to Germany. To return it to him, but when you found out he was no longer there, you realized you were going to have to either keep it permanently or track him down. Sam's call came in before you could make that decision. Fate really is something else.

Your hands grabbed the fabric of the hoodie as you closed your eyes and ducked your head. You could feel the embarrassment threatening to turn your whole face red.

You started to shuffled away knowing an immediate outburst was coming from both of her friends. What Zemo just said, implied so many different things. So, of course Sam and Bucky would start shouting without having any context to the situation of how you acquired a piece of his clothing.

If the floor could have opened up at that moment, you would have appreciated it.

Sam and Bucky were both visibly upset and clearly about to start a fight with Zemo, but thankfully Sam, being the more even tempered of the group, stopped Bucky from doing anything. He had shrugged off Sam and stared at you with hurt on his face.

You exhaled shakily as things started to calm down. You dared to catch a glimpse of Zemo, and of course, out of everyone here, he seemed to thoroughly enjoy causing the chaos he wrought with his sly comment.

If looks could kill, he would have been flayed alive.

"Enough," you said to everyone. It was time to clear the air. "Let's all just take a seat."

You had gotten exasperated by the entire situation and turned to Bucky and Sam, "Do you automatically have to jump to conclusions? Do you not think there is a perfectly logical explanation, somewhere?" You had slapped your hands down by your sides and turned to Zemo. He looked as if he were about to say something, but you cut him off pointing a finger at him.

"And you. Big trouble. Don't even get me started."

As you stared at Zemo; he at least had the decency to appear somewhat contrite at your scolding. You could still tell he was mildly amused about the whole situation.

You saw Sam had taken a seat and started to wave you over to where he and Bucky were.

"Start talking," he said.

"I'm not sure where to start," you answered, pacing back and forth.

"How about the beginning?" Bucky parroted out arms crossed in front of him, he was clearly still a bit defensive.

"The beginning. Right. Sure. I can do that," you stopped to think about how to start, but everything just seemed to be as if you were actually hiding something from them, when you weren't. It just never came up, and The Blip was emotional for everyone.

Truth be told, you would like to avoid this conversation at all costs. For many reasons, some you're not ready to deal with.

Zemo had spoke up while you were deciding how to broach the subject at hand.

"If I may," he spoke.

The three of us had answered him simultaneously, "No!"

Yeah, it was going to be a long day.

OOOOO

[tommyssupercoolblog]

omg u missed so much,,,

WORDS

rizz - charisma

pog/poggers - positive adjetive. can also be used as a thing you say in excitement, like "yipee!!!!".

pogchamp - same as above, but also a noun.

"coded"- used to say that something is implicitly or "between the lines" implied to be something else. a character that is "child coded" then would be a character that in universe is a canonical adult, but reads as a child due to appearance or behaviour. unfortunately this is usually used to harass people, because "if you ship these two characters you're supporting IRL incest because these characters have the same hair colour and are sibling coded, and the only reason you'd ship them is because you're an IRL incest-comitting person." sighhh

Based - two defenitions here. 1. True 2. Valid, understandable, etc

culture stuff

FNAF has a movie now

THE QUEEN OF ENGLAND FUCKING DIED

Destiel became canon when Castiel confessed his love only to immediately be sent to an in-universe super hell.

Good Omens, a show with currently two seasons, is top teir television, not gonna lie. The first season blew up in popularity, and the second season that dropped somewhat recently made all current fans cry. a third (final?) season is in the works.

a multiplayer minecraft roleplay series called "Dream SMP" blew up during the pandemic and the large fandom has made it the new homestuck of "oh fuck the fandom people are here eww cringe aaugh" Poppy Playtime, a horror game series, is massively popular despite being nowhere near finished

disney and pixar are failing to put out good movies now and sony is quickly giving them a run for their money with certified bangers (really good stuff).

Speaking of which, Puss In Boots 2 is the biggest fucking deal. Like, such a big deal. it sounds crazy but believe me.

Also, SPIDERVERSE. The first two films in a trilogy about Spiderman Miles Morales have been released and are....god, so good. They're basically the biggest movies in the world right now?? definitely watch those if you can.

There was a thing called Barbenhiemer where The Barbie Movie (a colorful semi-musical live action movie about barbie) and Oppenheimer (a gritty drama about the nucular bomb) were released at the same time and everyone inexplicably drew crossover fanart and saw them both back to back on the same day.

There's a new Avatar (the blue alien one set in pandora) movie.

Everything is "core" now, which...okay so basically you know how different "aesthetics" (things like colors, clothing styles, filters on photographs, movies, music, even places or hobbies) have certain vibes? like something might feel edgy or cozy? well now people are seperating those out into Aesthetics or Cores. I think the best way to understand this is to either use the aesthetic wiki or look up the big three- Cottagecore, Dark Academia, Kidcore- and browse each tag on it's own for a while to get a feeling for what they're talking about.

Will Wood (sometimes Will Wood And The Tapeworms), a Dark Cabaret music artist, became an icon for neurodivergent gays semi-against his will (he didn't want to be typecast as only music for one group of people) and is now deliberately releasing music that's outside of his usual style now and then to try and break association.

Twitter was bought by elon musk who renamed it X but no one is fucking calling it that because it's a stupid name.

SSSniperwolf, a reaction youtube channel, showed up outside Jacksfilms house after he critisized her content model and tried to lure him outside with a food delivery order...supposedly, she says, to "talk". She posted a photo of his house as well.

E3 (the game awards show) died. no more E3 ever again.

There's also been a lot of violence, war (both civil and normal war), and transphobia going on, but a quick glance at the news should tell you that,,,

AI art, photos, chatbots, videos, etc are here and sometimes convincing enough to end up on the actual news, and companies and movie studios are starting to use it to do the creative work for them instead of paying real people. there's been writers' strikes over this. these AI are also stealing samples from the web without permission- fanfic sites like ao3, tumblr artist blogs, etc all being scanned and condensed as data for the machine. This is generally considered theft among artists, because we didn't give permission for our creative works to be stolen, and it's very upsetting overall!!!!!

I HOPE THIS COVERS EVERYTHING. dances

So apparently it's not 2018.....

Hi I just got out of dormancy(?)

I was gone ever since 2018

Anyone wanna catch me up on internet culture??

Mark is helping me catch up on personal life stuff but wtf is a rizz