#this is obviously very very far in the future

[gilverrwrites]

AK!Jason who’s inexperienced but far from stupid when it comes to the fairer sex. Once he has you captured with your hands strung up over your head, he knows what he wants to do. His touch is exploratory as he plays with you, noting everything that gets a reaction out of you, like he’s testing some hypothesis. He lets his hands roam your entire body, pausing over your stomach as he marvels over the fact that he could just put a baby in you if he wanted. He fixates on your breasts and slobbers all over them, rubbing his cheek against your nipple before crouching to observe the prize between your legs, the one that no one - not even Batman - can keep him from winning. As he gets more excited, his grip goes from curious to possessive, his observations becoming crude comments, thriving on the fact that he can touch you all he wants but you can’t lay a finger on him, because this Jason can’t stay nice for long.

Anon, dear sweet lovely anon, this will haunt my every waking moment for the forseeable future. What a delight.

Thinking about him incidentally brushing his bare hand across that spot for the first time, whichever one turns you on the most; your neck, your spine, your waist and laughing at how you shiver and whimper for him.

His probing fingers delving between your slit, and something in his brain switches from the aforementioned curiosity to possessiveness when he feels how wet you are. For him. Even chained up and at his mercy, you're body responds to him because it knows you belong to him.

Gently squeezing your clit for the first time and aweing at how your body shudders, at how your folds practically begin to drip, at how soft and warm your inner walls feel when he sinks two fingers in, twisting and scissoring, gaging how well his cock will fit in there, and ooohhh baby, he just knows that tight little cunt was made to fit him just right, and if it doesn’t, he will make it.

I’m just trying to decide logistically which of the following is hotter, cause obviously his helmet has to be off for this. But do you know it’s Jason feeling you up, treating you like an experiment, having his was with your body? Can you see him? See the resemblance to that boy you once knew through all the age progression and scars?

Or are you perhaps blindfolded? Because he’s not ready for you know his identity just yet, because he wants to see if, even on a subconscious level, if you’ll figure it out or if you’re so fucking dirty and desperate you’ll let anyone have at you.

Or maybe it doesn’t matter because you don’t know him at all, he was long dead by the time you came on the scene. Batman’s previous sidekick, a footnote in a story you were never a part of. But he knows you. Joker put your picture on the wall of his cell, his replacement, in his role, wearing his clothes.

He’s been watching you closely ever since he started following Bruce. He knows everything there is to know about the girl who took his place. He knows what shampoo you use, how you take your coffee, where your spare suits are stashed, how you often forget to close your curtains at night when you’re sleeping naked in his old bed. You don’t know him at all, but you’re about to become very well acquainted.  

[inmyheaddd]

just feeling my way back to you - grayson hawthorne x reader

a/n: this was supposed to be a flashback in a grayson series i’m working on but idk if im ever gonna post it 💔 summary: having what was supposed to be a relaxing picnic by the river, took a very unexpected turn when it started raining. heavily. warnings: rain kiss rain kiss rain kiss!! nothing really tho wc: 1.6k masterlist

you and grayson sat by a creek-river hybrid, the sun painting a golden hue over everything as the water beneath you seemed to glitter. 

there wasn’t much noise, apart from the rustling of leaves, the sound of the water, and of course, you and grayson’s non stop quiet chatter and laughter.

the air sent a breeze down your spine, but it did nothing to bother you. you don’t think anything could ever ruin this moment with you and grayson, with your head on his shoulder as you brought your knees to your chest.

well, one thing nearly came close. 

you felt a drop of water on your nose, making you sit up fully as you let out a small gasp. 

“oh my god, is it raining?” you reached your hand to wipe the droplet off your nose, only for more to start dropping on your face, faster, too.

you didn’t see the way grayson’s face turned into a slight frown when you lifted your head off his shoulder, you were too preoccupied with looking at the clouds as more rain started falling down, almost in awe.

grayson then found himself smiling as he watched you look up to the sky and laugh, a sound he’d replay over and over on a record player in his mind. 

his gaze stayed on your face as you tilted your head back down and looked at him, a grin spreading across your face. 

“i have an idea,” you said in a sing-song voice. 

“no.” he deadpanned. 

“i didn’t even tell you!” 

grayson raised his eyebrows at you, a hint of laughter in his voice. “your ideas in situations like these are never good.” 

your jaw fell open in mock offense. “never good? well that’s just a lie.”

his lips threatened to turn up. you would’ve barely noticed if it was anyone else, but you noticed everything about grayson. 

“i apologize, never sensible.” he corrected himself.

it was already raining harder now, but you paid it no mind. looking into grayson’s eyes felt the same as looking up at the stormy skies. 

“and when was the last time you had fun doing something sensible?” you retorted, and now grayson’s barely there smile fully cracked. 

it made way for a chuckle as he looked away from you, a light shake of his head before he ran a hand through his hair. 

you knew you’d gotten him with that one, muttering a small, “exactly.” as you turned yourself around, looking through the bag you’d brought with you. 

after flicking through extra clothes, snacks, your phones, and a speaker, you found the item you were looking for. 

“hey, grayson, this is waterproof, right?” you called out to him as you pulled his camera out of its cover. 

obviously grayson hawthorne’s far-too-expensive camera was waterproof, who were you kidding?

he hummed lowly, more in confusion as to answering your question. 

leaning forward with your legs crossed, you you set up the camera against a tree stump beside you, pressing the record button as grayson watched you — still slightly befuddled.

“hey guys, it’s raining!” you spoke into the camera, adjusting it so you and grayson were in frame with the scene behind you.

“—i’m with grayson hawthorne right now, on a sunday, 6:32 pm, and it’s raining!” you reiterated yourself with a laugh, setting the frame for whatever version of yourself would be looking back at this video in the future. you with grayson, you’d silently hoped.

as you talked, grayson looked at you like you were so much more than you actually were, with so much love in his eyes. it stilled you for a moment as you saw it in the camera. 

your attention was no longer on the camera as you sat upright again, looking at grayson with an ever present smile on your face. 

“what?” you laughed quietly.

in all of his hawthorne manner, he answered your question with one of his own. “what are you doing?” he said, his voice low, almost drowned out with the patter of the rain and sounds around you. 

and in all of your “i love annoying grayson” manner, you didn’t answer his question. you simply grabbed the camera and stood up, and his gaze followed you the whole time.

you jogged towards the river, the rain soaking through your clothes as you went, and set the camera up again on a large rock. grayson’s eyes widened slightly as he watched you.

"what are you doing?" he projected his voice over the rain, punctuating each word as he grew concerned. 

you shot him a quick look over your shoulder, your smile growing even wider. "making real memories!” you exclaimed.

before he could protest, you made sure everything was in frame on the camera, then took a few steps back, your bare feet sliding a little on the wet grass.

"you’re not serious," grayson stated as he followed after you, but there was a tiny hint of humour in his tone now.

"oh, i’m so serious!" you shouted back, already running toward the water.

"sweetheart, wait—" grayson reached out as if to stop you, but it was too late.

you launched yourself off the bank and into the river with a squeal, the cold water hitting you like a shock to the system. it wasn’t that deep— coming up to just below your chest. 

grayson stood frozen for a second, shaking his head as he watched you pop up, gasping and laughing, water streaming down your face as you smoothed your hair back.

"come in!" you called, laughing breathlessly, lifting your arms to show him how much fun you were having. "you know you want to!" you added, giggling to no end.

he hesitated, eyes flicking to the camera that was still recording. "i have absolutely no desire to go in. i truly worry for your sanity sometimes.” 

"my sanity may be questionable, but at least i’m having fun!" you countered, the water swirling around your legs as the rain kept falling. "this is all on camera, gray. if you don’t come in, you’ll be known forever as the grumpy blonde who stood on the sidelines, while i had the time of my life." 

grayson davenport hawthorne would forever be known as a lot of things— and you knew you were going to keep this video as a keepsake for just you two. precious, untarnished with the effects from anyone else. just yours.

maybe not everyone would know the real him— which in fact wasn’t the grumpy blonde like you had joked — but you did. and you were endlessly thankful for that.

grayson let out a deep, exasperated sigh, running a hand through his wet hair before speaking. “you’re going to be the death of me, sweetheart.” 

"so are you getting in or not?" you teased, splashing water in his direction.

grayson looked at you for a second longer, hesitant, before pulling his shirt over his head, revealing his toned chest that had you grinning. 

this was always how it went with you two, but you liked — no, you loved it.

it was second nature for you two; you doing something he found reckless, and him following after you anyway. you completed eachother. 

he kicked off his shoes, then without another word, ran towards the water and landed with a massive splash.

you let out a huge squeal, shielding yourself from the wave and laughing uncontrollably as grayson surfaced, shaking the water from his hair.

you threw your head back laughing as grayson approached you. “i can’t believe you got in!” 

he let out a chuckle as he ran a hand through his hair, “you could get me to do just about anything on this planet.” he said softly, his hands finding your waist as the rain continued to pour around you.

you felt your heart skip a beat, but you didn’t let it show. you smiled up at him, the sound of the rain pattering against the water filling your senses. “just about?” you teased.

“anything.” he corrected himself, pulling you even closer against the water. 

"oh, that’s a dangerous amount of power to give someone, isn’t it?” you joked, putting your arms around grayson’s neck. “especially for a hawthorne like you." 

"oh, undoubtedly.” he teased you right back with a barely there smile, as one of his hands trailed up to caress your face. 

“even more so when it’s you." his voice was all low and smooth, it nearly turned you into putty in his arms.

"you’re lucky i don’t plan on abusing it," you said quietly, trying to keep things light, but you felt your heart hammering against your chest as his face drew nearer to yours. this would never get old.

he let out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head. "you already have, sweetheart." 

he said those words before finally pressing his lips to yours, and the kiss was perfect. it was everything and more that you could’ve ever hoped for, it was the rain kiss of your dreams. 

and just when you thought it couldn’t get any better, grayson’s hands travelled down to your thighs, signaling for you to wrap your legs around his torso. 

and that you did. 

you fought breaking into a smile as your hands weaved through his wet hair, and as you felt his hands on your body. 

it was nothing you hadn’t felt before, but it still gave you fireworks every damn time. 

—

as you pulled back back, both breathless and panting against eachother, you asked him a question. 

“you think that cameras still recording?” you murmured into the tiny space between you. 

“it can record for up to 48 hours before its battery begins to drain, its—”

you cut him off with a quiet laugh, “gray, a simple yes or no would’ve sufficed.”

he smiled, nodding and somehow putting his lips even closer without kissing you, “yes, then.” he breathed out— but you had a feeling he wasn’t really talking about the camera anymore as he pulled you in for another total mind-numbing, record breaking kiss. 

you didn’t need that camera to know that this moment would never be forgotten between the two of you.

taglist: @charsoamerican @ariabedumb @x-liv25-jamieswife @wish-i-were-heather @thecircularlibrary

@littlemissmentallyunstable @whatsamongus @anintellectualintellectual @bewitchingkisses @maybxlle

@sheisntyou @midiosaamor @emelia07 @sweetreveriee (if you’d like to be added or removed pls lmk! 🤍)

[goodqueenaly]

If Robert had perhaps lived for a few more years, what sort of marital prospects might Edric Storm expect as the king's acknowledged natural son? Obviously he is a bastard, but I imagine some may have been eager to take advantage of his proximity to Renly or the King: How well could he reasonably wed?

I think a few things have to be kept in mind.

Number one, I doubt how much interest Robert would have had in young Edric's marriage. Unlike, say, Aegon IV, who I think was very willing to arrange his son Daemon's marriage to promote Daemon as a would-be King of the Stepstones, Robert seems to have had little input (by his own choice) on the upkeep or future of his only acknowledged bastard son. As Stannis noted, while Robert "played the fond father on his visits to Storm's End" the many gifts ostensibly given by father to son were the choice of Varys rather than Robert, who "would laugh and ask Varys what he'd sent this year". If Robert had been forced to recognize Edric, since his mother was a noblewoman, that recognition may have been all Robert personally really felt he needed to do for Edric (at least, that he could not delegate to someone else). The only marriage Robert was looking to arrange, so far as we can see, was that of the boy he believed to be his elder legitimate son - and speaking of that …

Number two, Edric's closeness to Robert and Renly, as a nobly blooded royal son, would potentially have been severely compromised by the latter's plans. Because Renly absolutely knew about the incest, he, Renly, was actively trying to arrange for Robert's remarriage to Margaery Tyrell (and, of course, the removal of Cersei and her children). With Robert presumably poised in such a scheme to father unquestionably legitimate children with Margaery, Edric’s dynastic value as an undeniable, blue-blooded son of the king would have all but evaporated. Neither Robert nor Renly would have needed, nor indeed necessarily wanted, to cultivate the courtly standing of the king’s bastard son, especially with a high-ranking marriage, especially with the historical memory of the Blackfyre pretenders. If Renly might have found young Edric, with his obviously Baratheon features, useful as a potential pawn in his scheme to reveal Cersei’s infidelity, the Florent-blooded bastard would likely have had no place, including as a potential marriage pawn, in a Tyrell-Baratheon court thereafter.

Number three, IOTL Cersei was not shy about eliminating or trying to eliminate Robert’s bastards where she could. Eager to conceive children outside of her marriage, and thereby deny Robert children, as vengeance against the husband she had been forced to marry, and well aware that any children born to Robert by another mother would have the Baratheon look her own children very clearly did not, Cersei did not hesitate to have Robert’s Casterly Rock twins and baby Barra murdered, and attempted to do the same with Gendry (not to mention the threats she made about Mya Stone). In turn, I doubt that Cersei would simply have sat by and allowed Edric to grow and marry, especially to some high-ranking dynastic partner, without some attempt to interfere and prevent the continuation of Robert’s line.

[dimonds456]

Transfem Stan Thoughtdump

Okay so @/abyssalzones made a pretty good post that sums up a lot of my thoughts as well, but I have a few extra ones I'd like to add to this discussion, as well as elaborating on one of the post's points. I've been thinking about transfem Stan for a couple of weeks now and at this point I'm like "fuck it we ball" and throwing it out there. 

For one, it warms my heart whenever there's an older character who was raised in the mid-1900s/older times who realizes they're queer, or comes to terms with their identity in old age. You're never too old to realize you're part of the community, and never too late. Adding this on top of the many, MANY identities that Stan has had to take to survive in her life, it'd be like really turning over a new leaf for her. She'd get to really step into an identity that she aligns with completely, and not something else given to her or that she took to protect herself. 

Not to mention, everything regarding Ford. The fact that she had to pretend to be Ford for so long, she more than likely never had the chance to even think about taking on any other identities. She had to keep this one as intact as she could. Otherwise, she could risk loosing the Shack, and with it, the portal- her brother. No way that was happening. 

It was briefly touched in the post, but when Stan was watching that one movie and she was like "JUST LIKE ME FR", obviously the writers intended that to just be a joke since this was as far and away from Stan's identity as they could get. But we're gonna ignore that and take it at face value for a second. 

The channel introduces itself (jokingly) as the boring old lady black-and-white channel, clearly something that a manly-man like Stan wouldn't be into, and he reacts like how you'd expect. But once it gets going, he gets fully sucked into it, leading eventually to the scene where the main character, seemingly about to complete a Character Arc™, tells her mother "I'm not just a dutchess, I'm also a woman!" and Stan cheers for her, saying the "just like me fr" line. 

Without any transfem headcanons, again, this is a joke. Or you could interpret this in hindsight as Stan feeling a similar way about his father, since lines like "I'm a woman!" declared like that usually means "I'm free to make my own choices," which is a message resident make-my-father-proud-issues Stanley Pines would relate to pretty hard. Even though this isn't a conclusion Stan comes to in the show, we could easily see him coming to a conclusion like that in the future.

Now let's add the transfem headcanon back in. With that new layer to it, Stan (whose egg hasn't cracked yet) would be confused as to why she relates so hard. After all, she's a man who was raised to shove feelings down and be a manly-man man by Filbrick. She's more than likely gone her entire life trying to conform to that idea of toxic masculinity that her dad pushed on both her and Ford. Stan was always the one who resorted to punching, after all. That's a manly-man trait, so surely this goes no further right

There's a part of Gravity Falls that I feel doesn't get discussed enough, and that's the underlying misogyny of it. There's not a ton of it, but there are quite a few jokes about how men are stronger than women and the like. Stan has quite a few lines like that herself. So she would be subscribing to a similar mental state, the idea that if you like punching, CLEARLY you're a guy. Cuz that's how it works. Obviously. 

Introducing Mabel Pines, someone who is VERY much a girly-girl. She likes pink and unicorns and rainbows and makeup and sleepovers, stuff of the like. Now I could make a whole other post about my headcanons for Mabel and her queer journey, but one thing she can definitely do that "girly-girls" DON'T? Punching.

Mabel can punch. And she punches a lot. 

It's a small thing, and something I think Stan has just kinda accepted without question over the course of the series, but if she were to stop and think about it, she'd be like ".....wait a minute." and it could very well be the first piece that cracks the idea of manly-man masculinity vs just. existing as a person and what that actually means. 

Once Stan finally starts to break away from toxic masculinity and all those lessons she got thrown into her head, then her egg would finally be able to start cracking. 

As for why it even matters, first off, it just makes for an interesting interpretation of the character I haven't really seen before until VERY recently. Like, within the past 2 days recently (and maybe once like a month ago?? idk). 

But secondly, for her character, it would be a good, healthy step into really taking back her identity. Who IS Stan Pines? She's spent so long being other people, either as a form of self-defense or pretending to be her brother so she can help save him from the sideburn hell dimension, that I don't think she's really allowed herself to connect to who Stan is. 

This is true regardless of gender headcanon, but I think the transfem angle makes it so much more interesting. Who is Stan? Not even she knows. And she's starting to feel VERY confused about the whole thing. 

As for Ford, I think he'd be more than willing to support an identity journey for Stan. After all, he's traveled across dimensions and more than likely had all his teachings questioned as well. I am willing to bet money he's encountered trans people before. And, knowing Ford, he'd be open and curious to the idea, not close-minded, no matter what their father tried to teach his kids. Honestly, I could see Ford pestering Stan with questions long into the night regarding the whole thing, and taking up the whole identity mystery for himself as something the two of them can "crack" (heh) together. Just another adventure for the crew of the Stan'o'War II! 

There's SO much more but I don't wanna re-say things that the og post already said, these are just the big ones that stick out to me and what I wanted to elaborate on. 

TL;DR Stan goes on a journey of realizing that toxic masculinity Is Bad Actually and honestly so was his father, and once he accepts that and starts actively challenging his own beliefs about gender, her egg cracks and she realizes that maybe she isn't a guy at all. The rest of the Pines- but Ford especially- are supportive, and although Stan has a LOT of self-reflection to do and I could see her getting frustrated, flustered, or even embarrassed of her newfound realization, ultimately it makes her happier like this. Cuz it's her identity. She's not pretending to be anyone else anymore and she can just wholly be herself.

Thank you and goodnight

[ann-atar]

There were moments during the first season when I really wondered where they were taking Galadriel's character -- I mean we already know her history, obviously, we know where she ends up and it's in a very good place -- but the journey from first season Galadriel to the Lady of Lorien seemed like it might be a bit too OOC. But this season and with moments like the scene with Arondir (and her heartbreaking scene with Celebrimbor!) I see it, her journey makes more sense, and I'm liking it very much.

The scene (in ep. 7) when Galadriel stopped Arondir from throwing his life away was so sweet and tender, and both actors were outstanding.

Every so often we see glimpses of far future Galadriel (the Lady of Lothlórien) because she emits this sort of gentle gravitas that reminds me of (book) LOTR Galadriel.

In that scene with Arondir it's like we can see what's coming for her character, like this prequel series is showing us (as prequels do!) what formed her into the wise and ageless queen who could speak with such gentleness to Frodo and sit on the White Council to keep watch over Middle-earth and repel Sauron and/or keep him from returning.

The way Arondir just crumpled for a moment when she put her hand on his cheek, like she saw and acknowledged his grief and then took the time to make sure he understood that his life was valuable, it really got to me. They were surrounded by orcs but she stopped and really saw him.

She gave him the will to fight, and to try to live through the fight, and I don't think he had that before. Which is why I think Arondir's going to be OK; he won't lose to Adar or give in to hopelessness.

My hope for Arondir is that he survives and rises in the ranks, so to speak, and that we'll see him planning and fighting Sauron alongside Galadriel and Elrond next season. He's grieving, and he's naturally reserved, but Galadriel sees him, his talent and his drive, so I doubt she will let him languish on the sidelines.

[impval]

Modern Κασσάνδρα

Cate Dunlap x Fem!Reader

There were a couple of rules to remember here:

You could see the past and future of different people, but you can't control it. It doesn't depend on touch or emotion. It's completely random.

The future can be changed, but some things were set in stone. Like a fucking fate or something.

For some fucking reason, you keep seeing Cate's future and past in visions.

Your visions of Cate's past and future are equally terrifying. The campus drenched in blood, Cate's face twisted in madness; it's all etched into your mind. Her hand exploding, the deaths...it's endless and horrifying. You know almost too much about Cate, whether you want to or not.

But here's the thing. Yes, you have powers. Yes, you have the opportunity to save someone. But you're not stupid, you know the myths, you remember Kassandra. Her fate... it was never a happy one, doomed to see the horrors of the future and never been believed, never listened to. You choose to be selfish and when another vision of Cate hits you… you choose yourself.

Fate, however, has other plans.

Test after test, the teachers were giving you a tough time, and they weren't cutting you any slack. So, when the chance to let loose came up, you were one of the first ones at the party, with one goal in mind — to get totally wasted.

The party was in some rich bastard's house—one of those mansions that Cate had only been able to catch a glimpse of on campus trips while on some sort of university sanctioned event. It was pretty easy to spot you.

Cate was always a social butterfly, flitting from one party to the next and mingling with practically everyone she could. And, like all social butterflies, what she wanted she took. Usually, that meant a new partner to charm and some form of intoxication. You were pretty, obviously—hell, most people were these days—but there was something in the way you held yourself.

As the night wore on, Cate casually pushed the conversation to more interesting topics, she try made small talk. But in the end she asks the very question that everyone is curious about.

"So," she definitely drunk, "can you see my future? Or my past?"

Alone in a room, weeping. So weak, so vulnerable, a broken little girl. Begging for salvation, begging for comfort. Begging for someone to hold her...

You felt sick.

As you try to make a light joke, trying to deflect from the conversation, Cate is momentarily distracted by other partygoers calling out to her, friends asking for a drink or a dance.

The fear of a new vision full of blood and pain is too much and you leave while Cate is distracted by a conversation.

It would seem that the stars had aligned—maybe it was just bad luck. When the teacher announced the group projects, and your names were paired together, your can feel her eyes on you. Fuck.

"Seems like fate wants us together."

As you begin working on the project together, your initial tension is hard to ignore, especially with the nightmarish visions always haunting you. But despite the danger she poses, you find yourself drawn to her.

Cate is charming when she wants to be, and her interest in you is undeniable. She doesn't bring up the future anymore, but sometimes you catch her looking at you with a thoughtful expression, like she's trying to figure you out.

Of course, Cate still tried to learn more about your powers and your visions, but she was also careful not to push you too far. Cate's queries go deeper this time around, delving into the specifics of your powers in a way no one has done before.

The more time you spent with Cate, the more you learned about her—the more you grew fond of her. She'd bring you coffee in the morning, always remembering your favourite latte, and ask you questions about what you'd watch over the weekend.

Like how she loves cinnamon rolls and hates cooking, how her cold hands are always encased in her iconic gloves, not a single day going by without them.

Despite your inner struggle and the visions of her future, you find yourself liking her, even enjoying her company. And you decide to try.

As you start warning Cate about the little things, the future seems to shift and change in subtle ways. She doesn’t trip on the sidewalk, her coffee cup stays intact, and she starts remembering her phone more often.

Each small change seems like a victory, a reminder that the future can be malleable. But you can't help but wonder, with a guilt and fear, if all of these small changes are just delaying the inevitable.

You know about Cate's power and how she fears it. You know her need for touch and her deep-rooted fear of it. You find yourself naturally wanting to touch her, seeking physical contact with her. And each time you do, you notice how she tenses up, but tries to mask it with a laugh or a casual comment.

And then there are those moments of touch, so soft and shy. Her fingers barely making contact with your arm, as if she's still surprised that you allow her this small intimacy. You are doomed in your own way.

Your visions about Cate's future are still troubling, and now you see Indira more often—saving Cate from loneliness, smiling, but somehow it feels wrong. Then there's the Woods, a place where terrible things seem to happen.

You were quietly thankful that Indira didn't seem to pay much attention to you, considering your 'weak' power, sparing you the intensity of her interest in Cate. You had seen visions of her and Cate together multiple times, and the dynamic between them was hard to ignore.

You notice a change in Cate's behavior, as she starts going to parties more frequently and ignoring your texts, which only increases the worry gnawing at your heart. Cate is walking on the edge, a breakdown waiting to happen, and you're the only one who notices it because you knew what was coming, even before you had ever met her.

Each vision you've had suddenly seems more and more connected. Before, it all seemed like a confusing puzzle, but now the pieces are slowly forming an ominous picture. You feel as if you're drowning, like the future is closing in around you. Time is slipping away, and you can't shake the feeling that you knew all of this would happen from the very beginning.

You tried to change things, warning her about small details, tried to talk with Jordan Li and Marie, but it all ended in failure.

Marie runs, frantic and terrified, trying to escape Luke. Sam moves with a terrible grace, breaking people as if they were nothing more than dolls. Fear in Indira's eyes.

As Cate extends her ungloved hand to you amidst the carnage, your mind flashes back to the rare moments when her smile reached her eyes.

With a deep breath and a pounding heart, you take her hand.

[mihrsuri]

“No one could live up to your parents - the world knows that, your majesty. Be you, cousin - do not try to live up to that which only comes in rare millennia.”

“Cousin? You haven’t been so formal with me in an age, Nanette - shall I persuade you to use my first name at least?”

Nanette mimed throwing a pebble at him, as though they were children again - not the King living in the shadow of legendary parents and his spymaster cousin.

“Turhan then. I will tell you something like I tell Marianne, only more so for you, because it would be impossible to be your parents and they would tell you the same - it is not a failure to merely be a good king when you are following a legendary one who was all his legend and more besides.”

Turhan/Thomas II who is Mihrimah Sultan and Prince/King Thomas I (aka my fictional oldest son of Anne Boleyn in my OT3 verse) and who struggles with living up to the fact that his parents were in fact genuinely perfect progressive rulers of legend and more (and loving and good parents) and Nanette (Anne) Tudor-Dudley-Cecil aka Elizabeth Tudor and Robert Dudleys oldest daughter and her cousins spymaster/advisor.

(Marianne/Marian is Nanettes much younger sister who struggles with living up to her parents as well)

[hauntingofhouses]

Very interesting to me that a certain subset of the BES fandom's favourite iterations of Mizu and Akemi are seemingly rooted in the facades they have projected towards the world, and are not accurate representations of their true selves.

And I see this is especially the case with Mizu, where fanon likes to paint her as this dominant, hyper-masculine, smirking Cool GuyTM who's going to give you her strap. And this idea of Mizu is often based on the image of her wearing her glasses, and optionally, with her cloak and big, wide-brimmed kasa.

And what's interesting about this, to me, is that fanon is seemingly falling for her deliberate disguise. Because the glasses (with the optional combination of cloak and hat) represent Mizu's suppression of her true self. She is playing a role.

Take this scene of Mizu in the brothel in Episode 4 for example. Here, not only is Mizu wearing her glasses to symbolise the mask she is wearing, but she is purposely acting like some suave and cocky gentleman, intimidating, calm, in control. Her voice is even deeper than usual, like what we hear in her first scene while facing off with Hachiman the Flesh-Trader in Episode 1.

This act that Mizu puts on is an embodiment of masculine showboating, which is highly effective against weak and insecure men like Hachi, but also against women like those who tried to seduce her at the Shindo House.

And that brings me to how Mizu's mask is actually a direct parallel to Akemi's mask in this very same scene.

Here, Akemi is also putting up an act, playing up her naivety and demure girlishness, using her high-pitched lilted voice, complimenting Mizu and trying to make small talk, all so she can seduce and lure Mizu in to drink the drugged cup of sake.

So what I find so interesting and funny about this scene, characters within it, and the subsequent fandom interpretations of both, is that everyone seems to literally be falling for the mask that Mizu and Akemi are putting up to conceal their identities, guard themselves from the world, and get what they want.

It's also a little frustrating because the fanon seems to twist what actually makes Mizu and Akemi's dynamic so interesting by flattening it completely. Because both here and throughout the story, Mizu and Akemi's entire relationship and treatment of each other is solely built off of masks, assumptions, and misconceptions.

Akemi believes Mizu is a selfish, cocky male samurai who destroyed her ex-fiance's career and life, and who abandoned her to let her get dragged away by her father's guards and forcibly married off to a man she didn't know. on the other hand, Mizu believes Akemi is bratty, naive princess who constantly needs saving and who can't make her own decisions.

These misconceptions are even evident in the framing of their first impressions of each other, both of which unfold in these slow-motion POV shots.

Mizu's first impression of Akemi is that of a beautiful, untouchable princess in a cage. Swirling string music in the background.

Akemi's first impression of Mizu is of a mysterious, stoic "demon" samurai who stole her fiance's scarf. Tense music and the sound of ocean waves in the background.

And then, going back to that scene of them together in Episode 4, both Mizu and Akemi continue to fool each other and hold these assumptions of each other, and they both feed into it, as both are purposely acting within the suppressive roles society binds them to in order to achieve their goals within the means they are allowed (Akemi playing the part of a subservient woman; Mizu playing the part of a dominant man).

But then, for once in both their lives, neither of their usual tactics work.

Akemi is trying to use flattery and seduction on Mizu, but Mizu sees right through it, knowing that Akemi is just trying to manipulate and harm her. Rather than give in to Akemi's tactics, Mizu plays with Akemi's emotions by alluding to Taigen's death, before pinning her down, and then when she starts crying, Mizu just rolls her eyes and tells her to shut up.

On the opposite end, when Mizu tries to use brute force and intimidation, Akemi also sees right through it, not falling for it, and instead says this:

"Under your mask, you're not the killer you pretend to be."

Nonetheless, despite the fact that they see a little bit through each other's masks, they both still hold their presumptions of each other until the very end of the season, with Akemi seeing Mizu as an obnoxious samurai swooping in to save the day, and Mizu seeing Akemi as a damsel in distress.

And what I find a bit irksome is that the fandom also resorts to flattening them to these tropes as well.

Because Mizu is not some cool, smooth-talking samurai with a big dick sword as Akemi (and the fandom) might believe. All of that is the facade she puts up and nothing more. In reality, Mizu is an angry, confused and lonely child, and a masterful artist, who is struggling against her own self-hatred. Master Eiji, her father figure who knows her best, knows this.

And Akemi, on the other hand, is not some girly, sweet, vain and spoiled princess as Mizu might believe. Instead she has never cared for frivolous things like fashion, love or looks, instead favouring poetry and strategy games instead, and has always only cared about her own independence. Seki, her father figure who knows her best, knows this.

But neither is she some authoritative dominatrix, though this is part of her new persona that she is trying to project to get what she wants. Because while Akemi is willful, outspoken, intelligent and authoritative, she can still be naive! She is still often unsure and needs to have her hand held through things, as she is still learning and growing into her full potential. Her new parental/guardian figure, Madame Kaji, knows this as well.

So with all that being said, now that we know that Mizu and Akemi are essentially wearing masks and putting up fronts throughout the show, what would a representation of Mizu's and Akemi's true selves actually look like? Easy. It's in their hair.

This shot on the left is the only time we see Mizu with her hair completely down. In this scene, she's being berated by Mama, and her guard is completely down, she has no weapon, and is no longer wearing any mask, as this is after she showed Mikio "all of herself" and tried to take off the mask of a subservient housewife. Thus, here, she is sad, vulnerable, and feeling small (emphasised further by the framing of the scene). This is a perfect encapsulation of what Mizu is on the inside, underneath all the layers of revenge-obsession and the walls she's put around herself.

In contrast, the only time we Akemi with her hair fully down, she is completely alone in the bath, and this scene takes place after being scorned by her father and left weeping at his feet. But despite all that, Akemi is headstrong, determined, taking the reigns of her life as she makes the choice to run away, but even that choice is reflective of her youthful naivety. She even gets scolded by Seki shortly after this in the next scene, because though she wants to be independent, she still hasn't completely learned to be. Not yet. Regardless, her decisiveness and moment of self-empowerment is emphasised by the framing of the scene, where her face takes up the majority of the shot, and she stares seriously into the middle distance.

To conclude, I wish popular fanon would stop mischaracterising these two, and flattening them into tropes and stereotypes (ie. masculine badass swordsman Mizu and feminine alluring queen but also girly swooning damsel Akemi), all of which just seems... reductive. It also irks me when Akemi is merely upheld as a love interest and romantic device for Mizu and nothing more, when she is literally Mizu's narrative foil (takes far more narrative precedence over romantic interest) and the deuteragonist of this show. She is her own person. That is literally the theme of her entire character and arc.

[thevegetablewhichnoonedaresname]

[sammygender]

so many people can’t conceptualise emotional neglect as anything other than ‘my parents were cold and distant and never talked about feelings with me’, and this, while being just a general awful problem of course, is also what leads to so much john winchester mischaracterisation. in this essay i will

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

sharing one of my all-time fave poems totally not because I spent the last hour crying uncontrollably over graduating <3 LMAO

LISTEN I LOVE YOU JOY IS COMING!!!

Text version here.

[karda]

oooooo

Did you like a quiet place day one? Sam was my favorite

i actually cant watch horror movies because of the illness™ i just like men

[californiaquail]

one of my pipe dreams is to get a nz working holiday visa but us citizens are only eligible if you're under 30 and now i have reese and the cost of importing animals to nz is.....prohibitive. i mean obviously the cost of basically anything is prohibitive to me rn but in a pretend world where i wasn't getting extorted for a place to live and had a job with better pay that didn't make me want to kill myself so i could save some money i could maybe do it for myself but at this rate.

[theshotsheardacrossworlds]

FFXIV Write: Telling

In which Ser Hamignant Varlineau questions a certain someone about a secret. SFW.

“There’s something you’re not telling me.” Ser Hamignant Varlineau’s eyes narrowed. At six fulms eight ilms and very large, he cut the imposing aura of his father Ser Estinien with the we’ll call it “fluffy” body type of his mother the Warrior of Light. “What is it?”

“I…It’s nothing…”

The Temple Knight rolled his eyes. “You can lie to everyone else, but you can’t lie to me.”

I’m your twin, Marc.

We’re identical.

I know you, mate.

Marcelin threw his hands in the air and groaned. “Fine! I’m going to ask Ebegei to marry me, and—HAMI!”

I FUCKING KNEW IT!!!!!

Sylv owes me fifty gil.

Hamignant let out a cheer and hugged his twin. “Oh Marc, that’s wonderful news. Truly wonderful.”

Like Mummy, Marcelin blushed and smiled. “Aye.”

“Have you told anyone else?”

He shook his head. “No. I do have an idea of when and where but not how yet. I was thinking…” Uh oh. “Fuck it, should I do what you did when you proposed to Daisuke?”

Hamignant loved his twin dearly.

He’s a master of woodworking. An artist of renown. Has as big a heart as Mummy and Bapa put together.

He’s also a bit of a dumbass sometimes.

“Marc. Marc. Marc.” Hamignant drawled, dragging Marcelin by the arm to the bed in one of Uncle Aymeric’s many guest rooms. Marc’s in Ishgard for a job, and then off to propose I suppose! Heh. “In the moment, I trust you’ll find the right words.”

As they had done since they were small children, the twins sat side by side on the bed---Hamignant on the right, Marcelin on the left.

Spreading his thighs and resting his hands at the top of his belly, Marcelin heaved a sigh. “I hope so.”

“Oh Marc,” Hamignant threw an arm around his brother’s broad shoulders. “Remember what Granddad said to Mum: trust your heart because it’ll never lead you astray.” He grinned. “You’ll do great. I know it.” He then laughed. “After all, you can’t possibly be worse than when Laure proposed to Fry.” The two laughed heartily.

Poor bastard was so nervous he lost his lunch.

Even Bapa didn’t do that!

Once the laughter died down, the two stared into identical brown eyes.

Marcelin smiled like the cutest fucking dope. Wait, that means I do the same thing. Shit. “Thanks, Hami.”

“For you, dear brother, anything.” Anything and everything, Marc. We came into the world together. We’ll go into the lifestream together. And when you say “I do” to Ebegei and cry as much as Bapa, I’ll be by your side. He squeezed Marcelin’s shoulder. “Now, tell me what you’ve planned so far…”

[nidstiniens]

FFXIV Write 2024 - Day 06

Prompt: Halcyon Rating: G. Genre: Fluff (Domestic) Pairing: Estinien x WoL

Preview:

As he'd begun to crash headfirst into adolescence, Ronan had become more and more the spitting image of his father, and Estinien wasn't quite sure what to make of that just yet.

read on ao3 | ffxivwrite2024 masterpost

[suncaptor]

there's something specifically inside my head that is closing up that makes trusting anything so hard. i have to manually keep my mind open to the potential of anything being significant. i am so used to things being bad and things hurting and things not working and being powerless that it takes an exorbitant amount of mental energy to make sure I don't let myself shut down possibility. and I do it because I never want a certainty inside of me besides love to rule anything. but I want my brain elastic again. i want it open like breathing. it doesn't erase the unfairness or the critique or any of the bitter-built philosophy.