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hlizr50 · 3 years

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These Scars Paint the Map that Led Me to You

Azriel and Gwyn both have scars, and both are determined to show the other that those scars are just as beautiful as the rest of them.

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Part 1: Azriel

“You’re brooding, Shadowsinger.”

Azriel could feel the Valkyrie’s eyes on him, but he didn’t look up.

“I don’t brood, Berdara.” He kept his gaze firmly on the report in front of him, eyes narrowed. He didn’t understand how there could be so little intelligence. He had personally surveyed every location and made sure that every spy was in the most prime of positions to overhear and intercept information. It had been a time-consuming, harrowing endeavor, and it had taken him too far from home for far too long. It was the first long mission he’d undertaken since he had started spending considerably more time with the copper-haired priestess lounging in the settee across the room – since they had started sharing more than banter and nights running away from nightmares – and every minute away had put him more and more on edge.

Gwyn snorted.

“I love when you lie to yourself.” He heard the dampened clap as she snapped her book closed, but he still refused to meet her gaze. The shadowsinger could feel the intensity of those teal eyes boring into his profile, and he wasn’t prepared to compound his frustration with the questions he would find there – questions that would turn into an ocean of concern. He leaned back into his chair, tilting his head further and sighing in exasperation. His breathing was deep, measured, as he pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. The rustle of fabric was the only indication that Gwyn had moved, but he remained focused on his breathing and the bitter burn of failure in his chest. Where was Koschei? Why couldn’t he find anything at all?

“Azriel.”

Her voice was quiet, the softest of melodies that always seemed to help silence the infernal voices that threatened to tear him apart. He opened his eyes when he felt her hands on his shoulders, graceful fingers feeling for the knots of tension and seeking to soothe them from where she stood nestled neatly between his wings. Azriel grinned half-heartedly, eyes roaming from the silken locks that nearly brushed his forehead to the constellations of freckles that painted her cheeks, to the deep sea of her stare that had darkened with concern, to full pink lips that were pursed. “What terrible lies are you telling yourself this time, Shadowsinger? Tell me, so that I might prove you wrong.” The small smile he had tried to use on her faltered, so he just sighed and reached up to gently wrap his fingers around her forearms.

It never ceased to take him by surprise how thoroughly she understood him. Gwyneth Berdara so easily saw past his practiced mask of indifference and coldness. It had alarmed him at first, but he had found a surprising comfort in her companionship. She had always made it known that she could see right through him, but she would never pry, never push him to share things with her that he wasn’t ready to admit.

He kept his hands on her arms, closing his eyes as he brushed his fingers up and down the soft velvet sleeves the color of the forest at midnight. He loved when she didn’t wear her robes, instead opting for casual gowns (a taste she had likely inherited from Nesta) or the practical tunic and leggings, which were much easier to fight in should the need arise. Gwyn looked beautiful no matter what clothing covered her tall, lean frame, but he could not deny how those dresses made him burn for her.

“Lies, priestess?” He murmured, trying to soothe her worry and direct the conversation away from his internal self-loathing.

“Oh yes, Shadowsinger. You tell many lies.” He felt the brush of lips on his forehead and the subsequent heat that crept up his neck. “But like I said, I love when you do.” And he let his eyes drift open again. She stared back down at him, a wry smile accompanying eyes dancing with stars.

“I’m afraid I’ll need you to elaborate.” His hands had stopped their exploration of her arms and had come to rest back where they had started. He drummed his fingers for emphasis, waiting for her explanation.

“You of all people should know, Azriel, how I strive to prove you wrong,” she snickered. “But in this, especially. I have well-crafted arguments against some of my favorite lies of yours.” Azriel quirked an eyebrow in question and he could have melted at the softness he found looking back at him. Gwyn pulled away from his grasp and circled around to his side, only to reach for a scarred hand again. She tugged at him, willing the Illyrian to abandon his reports. “Come sit with me for a moment.”

He put on a show of being asked to step away from his work even though he knew that he could not refuse her. She knew it, too, but she was still gentle with him and gave him an encouraging smile and a quiet request.

“Please, Az.”

He wound his fingers between hers and moved first, pulling her toward the couch she had been sitting on moments before. The pale blue upholstery was faded, the buttons rubbed bald where they tufted the cushions. Nesta had insisted that the well-worn fabric only served to prove how impossibly comfortable the settee was, and therefore replacing it was out of the question. He sat down without letting go of the pale hand that glowed like moonlight in his tanned grasp, wings draped over the corner where the back and armrest met. He pulled the redhead down between his legs, drawing her sideways into his chest. His free hand found her hip and immediately started massaging easy circles with his mangled fingers. She drew their connected hands up between her chest and his.

“These are my favorite lies that you tell.” Gwyn’s voice was so gentle that he couldn’t even muster the tension he usually felt when he knew someone had noticed the mottled whorls of skin that covered his fingers, hands, and wrists. He had never felt the need to hide them from her – yet another surprise. The list was becoming quite extensive.

“What… what do you mean?” Azriel croaked, unsure of what to expect. From Gwyn, he supposed, he should not have any expectations. They would be shattered by her wit and candor.

“You tell yourself that your hands are disgusting. That they have done terrible things and they make you undeserving of compassion and love. A bald-faced lie if I’ve ever heard one.” He tensed, hand pausing on her hip. He studied her face, mostly hidden by a curtain of fiery chestnut, but found her attention centered on his hand in hers. She used a finger to trace the scars over his knuckles, taking her time to follow each line until it reached the next, an intricate map of flesh. Azriel’s skin pebbled, a tremor rumbling through him at the attention, the awe and adoration in her touch.

“Gwyn…” He breathed, but he couldn’t form the words. The priestess dipped her chin and pressed her lips to each of his long fingers, then to each of his knuckles, then to the scars on the back of his hand. Keeping one hand wound tightly with his she reached her other hand to cup his cheek, finally lifting her lashes to peer up at him. His chest swelled as she smiled widely, eyes glittering with challenge.

“Are you ready for my well-crafted arguments?”

The shadowsinger chuckled, keenly aware of her body against his. He squeezed lightly over her hip and answered, “I’m guessing I don’t have much of a choice in the matter.”

“You are correct.” She tapped the tip of his nose before returning her hand to his cheek and then tracing those cool alabaster fingers down to rest on his neck. She let her thumb stroke idly over his jaw. He felt like he could barely breathe under the gaze that she had fixed on him. Her teal eyes were bright with sincerity and compassion, but her smile was sad. He knew why – he had always been consumed with hatred for himself and the things he had done, and she hated that he felt that way.

“I don’t think I will ever be able to think about what was done to you without being absolutely torn apart, Azriel. It was cruel and it was wrong. You were a child. It breaks my heart. It was a disgusting act, but these hands are the furthest thing from disgusting.” She squeezed the hand she held at her chest and Azriel wrapped his other hand further around her waist, pulling her impossibly closer to him. She had never moved her eyes from his, and he found it difficult not to cower. But she gave him strength – she had emboldened him for awhile now – and so he held her gaze, mesmerized by her words. “These hands are beautiful. And perfect. And strong. They wield weapons and magic that make the whole of Prythian stand back in awe –“

“They have killed people,” he found himself arguing, an automatic response. Her fingers left his neck and pressed against his mouth, and he finally broke the eye contact she had so fervently held to look down shamefully.

“They have killed people. For your family, for your court. For me. You were there on the worst night of my life, Azriel. You may or may not know the details, but you know what happened to me. And yet here I am in your embrace, even when I can barely venture into the life and light of the city below without collapsing into a puddle of tears and panic. Because these hands… I know it’s you that holds me. I know that your hands are the ones touching me. The comfort that I feel, being able to know that it’s you, cannot be overstated.” Her voice was quiet, but fervent. Azriel could barely fathom her admission. He knew that she would feel remorse for the cruelty that he had endured, but this was so much more than that. “These hands belong to a male that I have never feared, even when I watched you slaughter men, cloaked in shadow. These hands are my safety and my sanctuary. They deserve compassion and understanding and adoration – you deserve those things. It hurts that you think otherwise, but I strive to prove you wrong, as always.”

The shadowsinger kept his priestess pressed against him at her waist and carefully pulled his other hand out of hers to cradle her face. He leaned his forehead against hers and let his ragged breathing betray his vulnerability. She was too good, too pure and perfect. But she was here in his arms, just like she had said. He lifted his gaze and found those teal depths for just a moment before slanting his mouth over hers, reveling in the softness of her. He had always been a man of few words, and while Gwyn had cracked him open wider than anyone in his family had ever seen before he still sometimes struggled to form the words he needed to show her just how incredible she was. He didn’t push to deepen the kiss, but after a moment gently pulled away. The lovely face he found nearly sent him over the edge with want – lips swollen slightly, wide glittering eyes, pink-painted cheeks. He was too overwhelmed with emotion to speak yet, so he buried his face into the crook of her neck, clutching her close with both arms. Her arms were trapped between them, but she had managed to slide her hands around his neck. Azriel felt her fingers gently teasing the hair at his nape as he breathed her in, the scent of water lilies and goodness permeating into his soul.

“Gwyn…” He shuddered against her. “Thank you.”

They remained wrapped in each other, for minutes or hours Azriel couldn’t comprehend. But he knew it, in that moment. It had been so easy to fall for her because this was who she was. She had chosen to be kind when the world had not been kind to her. She had chosen to fight back after she had been made helpless. She had chosen to show him light when she had been thrust into darkness. She saw him and did not cower. She challenged him and accepted his challenge in return. She had put her trust in him, and he could not imagine a greater gift.

So he held her against him and breathed her in, relishing in her heat and her light and her trust. And for the first time in his five centuries of life he thanked the Cauldron for the scars that marred his hands, the paths she had traced on the map of his skin – a map that had led his heart to her.

@trashforazriel @tealnymph-writes

#gwynriel #azwyn #gwynriel fanfic #gwyn x azriel #how do tags work #so fluffy #azriel x gwyn #they're so perfect

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postmodernmulticoloredcloak · 3 years

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And now I’ve watched episode 3 of Walker because of reasons. (You guys asked, that’s reasons.) #2

If you guys haven’t seen part 1, go see it immediately. Because of reasons. This time, reasons is Slutty Glitter Cowboy Stripper. No, it’s not a joke.

Yeah, I’m not sure what’s happening either.

I can’t believe they’re airing cowboy strippers in Supernatural’s air slot and Dean Winchester isn’t there. I think this is why they had to kill Dean, because otherwise he would have ripped through the CW’s show layout and appeared in Walker sponteneously, instantly adopting Walker’s entire family and friends as his own and single-handedly implementing the depolicement of the state of Texas, with Castiel rolling his eyes at him in the background while he murders ICE agents at the US-Mexican border.

*slides the CW a twenty euro bill* so I have an idea for season 2 of Walker

Anyway, there’s this lady Walker and Ramirez are doing a stakeout on, a woman called Torreto who is presumably part of some criminal organization since they’re doing a stakeout on her, and who’s bisexual given she was being entertained by a lady and a guy at a strip club. Which is like, fine, not problematic at all, alright.

So the stripper straddles her and is like ~wanna come with me in the back, and she’s like ~maybe another time, and he’s like ~torreto i saw cops outside you probably wanna come to the back with me, and she’s like ~mmm yeah that sounds like a good idea. We were rooting for you, slutty glitter cowboy stripper! We were all rooting for you! Or not.

Meanwhile, Walker has horrible car manners.

Also, he asks her how her parents were to her growing up, which is a question you normally ask to people you’re not close to when you want to do some small talk. For some reason she brings up a friend she had some ~crazy teen years~ with, called Garrison, which doesn’t make me think of angels in Supernatural, no, I am a normal person.

But then people start coming out of the strip club, but not Torreto. So they go in.

Torreto is not there, so Walker just stops the first person he sees and he’s literally like ~excuse me, do you know if there’s someone in the back. The visual is hilarious

“Excuse me, sir, have you seen my brother from another show, I suspect he might be here”

Give me a spinoff about this strip club.

Anyway, the guys answers, “No, why, you two interested?” to which they immediately answer “no!” at the same time, and share a look which makes me think we’re supposed to be like ~~ooh, talking in unison moment! or something...?

Meanwhile their truck gets stolen, and Walker yells that his bobblehead is in there. Cue disgruntled Jared face.

Oh man. We are at the title card. It’s less than 6 minutes. This will never end.

It was night, now it’s day, and Stella and August are walking around Austin. He’s mimicking David Attenborough, describing the teenagers around them as though he was doing a documentary about animals.

Two girls approach them, bringing up a party that’s taking place tomorrow. She says it’s not the best idea with her court date approaching. The girls are like, your dad can figure something out, he’s an elite ranger or something and also owes you for disappearing for a year. She’s like, he’s being kind of cool, I don’t want to ruin this, and the girls “call BS” because this is like “the best party of the year”.

Ruby, the girl August has been hanging out with, appears and August goes from “nah the party is not my thing” to “I’ll totally be there” in like 0.02 seconds.

I cannot overstate how much I am not interested in high schooler drama.

Meanwhile, at the Walker Seniors’ place, Walker’s parents are preparing the table for a family dinner. From their banter we can infer someone’s who ~is like family although he isn’t “blood”~ is coming for dinner and Grandpa Walker doesn’t like him at all and actually expects the guy to steal their china and bourbon. “It’s been years, could you please give him a chance?” Grandma Walker says, and he accepts, although she grabs the fancy bourbon from behind his back.

Meanwhile, at the police station, all the cops are having a briefing about Torreto, the woman at the strip club. She apparently steals weapons all over Texas and sells them over the border at triple the cost. Remember that Torreto escaped from Walker and Ramirez because she stole their truck while they were inside the strip club. Ramirez is worried she’ll already become the laughingstock of the precinct.

Uh. James plays security camera footage from outside the strip club. Walker and Ramirez’ truck was stolen by Torreto and the cowboy stripper himself.

Obviously the other cops laugh when Ramirez admits it was her truck.

James tells them to find Torreto, find the truck, and find out who the naked cowboy is.

I have a bad feeling about this.

Then Walker drives home, and as soon as he gets out of his car, you know how in the Supernatural pilot Dean gets into Sam’s apartment and wrestles him before revealing it’s him to ~test if his fighting skills are rusty and laughs when Sam realizes it’s him? Alright, now think intensely and guess how Walker’s like-a-brother best friend is introduced. Think intensely! It’s really difficult to guess!

Something something about violence and male intimacy except this is too ridiculous to, you know, write something serious about it.

“Oh, man!” the guy laughs, lying on the ground where Walker threw him. “The look on your face!”

“You son of a-”

“Oh, c’mon man, don’t talk bad of a mother I never knew.”

I’m facepalming soooo hard. This is the first thing we learn about him (well, after the fact that he definitely stole something from the Walkers’ house in the past), that he never knew his mother!

HOLY FUCKING SHIT

GUYS

I AM SO SORRY

I am faceblind I didn’t realize

THE GUY IS THE STRIPPER

I REPEAT

THE “DEAN BUT IN JARED PADALECKI’S MIND” CHARACTER IS THE SLUTTY GLITTER COWBOY STRIPPER

THIS IS NOT A DRILL

I SWEAR MY HANDS ARE COLD AND CLAMMY

I AM EXPERIENCING EMOTIONS NO WORDS EXIST IN THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE TO DESCRIBE

Oh my god guys. I am so sorry.

“You did your touchdown victory dance before you stole my partner’s truck!” Walker exclaims. “I should arrest you right here and right now!”

The guy acts like he has no idea what Walker is talking about, and says he’s in town to see his best pal.

Walker keeps accusing him, but then his mother appears, super thrilled to see him, and Walker lets is go.

They’re at dinner (NotDean brought wagyu steaks, which obviously means he does crime for a living) and Walker’s mother tells him to say grace, which he does in a semi-serious, semi-mocking way. Obviously NotDean does not believe in god, but he’s grateful for the people around him.

Stella calls him uncle, in case you missed that this is supposed to be a friend whom Walker loves likeabrother.

He talks about jobs he did here and there, and Walker and his brother tease him asking if he’s been to some prisons around the country. Stella doesn’t get the joke and NotDean explains it to her, adding, “now, from what I hear, I’m not the only outlaw in this family”. Grandpa Walker leaves the room.

NotDean asks Stella if she’s going to the bonfire (the party they were talking about earlier) and tells her that her mother started the thing when they were young. She didn’t know that. This is supposed to be a Meaningful moment.

Meanwhile the stolen truck is found... at Walker’s ranch. Gasp! What a shocking turn of events.

NotDean gives Stella advice on how to act in court to get on the judge’s good graces, “which means acting”. “Please don’t get legal advice from a criminal” walker’s brother Liam says. Is the gay brother also a NotDean of sorts, to be fair? Well, CriminalNotDean tells her to dress her best and cry. ActualbrotherNotDean tells her to use the correct legal arguments. Walker just stops them, quoting something Ramirez said earlier in the episode, “nobody benefits from the easy route”. Stella is like, what does that mean, which, mood, but Grandma Walker interrupts bringing in a plate of different hot chilis. Apparently they have a tradition of a competition. Which we don’t even see. Boo.

Ramirez finds the truck... right outside the Walkers’ house. Grandpa Walker, who’d gone outside, points a rifle to her and she explains what she’s doing there. They introduce themselves and she is like, sir why is the man who stole my truck inside your house? “Wife invited him to dinner.”

She’s like, I need to arrest him. But he’s like, I bet there’s not enough evidence to arrest him, or my son would have done it. Join me for steak and burbon in the bunkhouse! As one does. So they have wagyu and bourbon together, and she asks him what’s the guy’s story.

So NotDean and Walker grew up together, NotDean had a rough life, “my wife has a soft spot for strays, she can’t give up on him”. But Grandpa Walker doesn’t feel the same. He tells her that she cannot arrest him tonight, but it’s only a matter of time before the guy gives her enough rope. He adds that Walker has a blind spot for faces from the past, and needs someone to fix that.

Meanwhile dinner’s over and NotDean calls a uber. He and Walker arrange to meet the next day and hang out like old times. Eventually, Walker tells him that if he is involved in this case, he will have to take him down. “Theoretically, if you catch me.” They do a manly hug with manly pats, and the guy leaves. “Theoretically, go to hell,” Walker says after he’s left.

The next day, NotDean brings Walker to a storage in the middle of nowhere... full of cursed objects, no wait, wrong show. What’s inside the storage is the red Mustang. Walker is shocked that he hasn’t lost it in some bet - which apparently is how he got the car from Walker in the first place. Now NotDean says that, after everything Walker’s been through, he deserves a chance to win it back.

Glowy flashback of Walker and his wife in the car, right after the scene in the beginning of the episode. They bet it during poker night, decision of Emily, because Walker is “starting to get attached to her”. Emily teases him for calling the car a she, and Walker decides to call the car Stella.

They gave their daughter the name of a car they lost at poker.

Oh. She tells him she’s pregnant.

So, apparently, they had their first daughter when they were broke, to the point they had to try and get money at poker for a bigger place and baby things. That’s... kind of irresponsible.

Meamwhile, Ramirez goes to James to tell him about the thing, but James already figured NotDean was involved, because apparently stealing things and returning them is just something he does. “Why are you so calm about this?” she asks. He says because they cannot pin anything on him. Questioning him could scare the big crime lady. So he tells her to just keep an eye on him. “Walker, Torreto or Hoyt [NotDean]” she asks. “Yes” he answers.

Blah blah. I apologize, I’m being too detailed. I’m just bored by this. Ah, a butcher’s truck was stolen right after the strip club thing, guess where NotDean got the wagyu steaks.

Walker and NotDean go to the bar with the bartender who’s their friend, and NotDean flirts with her. They start playing poker, when Ramirez arrives, and has some banter with NotDean and spills some glitter on him that she found in the truck. He buys her a drink and she arrests him for trying to bribe a police officer. Walker is shocked.

At the precinct, he says they cannot prove he’s working with big crime lady. But she brings up he stole the wagyu steaks.

She calls him out for trying to be everyone’s friend even if they do something wrong, also with Stella.

She says she can hold NotDean for 24 hours, long enough to figure out the big crime lady’s plans. Common trope in cop shows. Arrest someone without proof, you have to release them after 24 hours, but the cop finds proof and bam, forgiven for arresting someone without proof.

I know you’re bored, I’m bored too.

Actually, nope, it goes differently and kind of worse. In the interrogation room, Ramirez offers NotDean a deal: he tells her where the big crime lady’s weapon deal is happening, and walks free. He points the location on a map and he compliments her. Walker is watching from the cameras and is shook.

Meanwhile the bonfire is happening, and Stella is there with her girl friends. So is August, breakdancing to impress girls. We don’t care.

Meanwhile, a lot of cops in serious cop gear surround the location NotDean pointed at. Nobody’s there, though.

What is there, is the red Mustang with the creepy bobblehead in it and a letter from NotDean that says he gives him the car back because it was always his wife’s.

Walker figures out where the deal is actually happening - the storage where the red Mustang was before.

Meanwhile, at the bonfire, August is drunk on booze he stole from Grandpa Walker and brought to the party. He asks Stella if she’s trying to drive their father away, breaking the law and all, he asks if she wants him to leave again. Then he throws up. She calls Walker but he obviously doesn’t answer. So she calls her uncle, who’s doing shopping with his partner or something. They’re buying cake? Doing cake testing for their wedding? Maybe.

Meanwhile, NotDean calls Grandma Walker to tell her he cannot go mushroom hunting with her tomorrow but needs to leave town, and he’s sorry to let her down again. She tells him that just because his family’s bad, doesn’t mean he is too. “You saved my boy, and I’ll never forget that” she says. Oooh, that’s so intriguing!, nobody says. They share a cute moment and then he hangs up, while the weapon deal goes down around him.

Uncle Liam and his partner pick up the kids, and Stella asks him if he’ll be in court with her tomorrow. He says he can’t, because it’s her father’s decision to make.

August turns up music and they all sing in the car. It’s funny how everyone’s got better chemistry with everyone else except with Walker. I know it’s, like, on purpose for plot reasons, but still, Walker’s interactions with everyone feel so stilted compared to anyone else. And it’s not the other characters are that compelling.

The police arrives at the location of the weapon deal, and NotDean gets arrested trying to steal the truck again. Ramirez gives a speech how that’s hard but it’s the right thing to do. Walker makes a comment about tough love, implying Stella needs to get that too.

The next day, they leave for Stella’s court thing on the red Mustang. It took Walker three episodes, but now they also have a cool classic car to show off! Yay! *eyeroll*

Meanwhile, Grandma Walker and Grandpa Walker have a conversation about their failing marriage or something.

Ramirez goes to the bar to apologize to the bartender for arresting NotDean. They have a drink together and if lesbians were watching this they’d start shipping them, but no lesbians are watching this. They’re wiser than me.

Stella got like a gazillion hours of community service and her license suspended. She’s upset, but since she has her license for one more day he teaches her how to drive the Mustang.

Wait. Americans don’t learn to drive normal cars when they get their license?? They only learn to drive cars with automatic gear?? What the hell??

They drive while August runs after the car to get over his hangover or something.

Would be a cute moment if the entire thing wasn’t so cheesy and weird.

Well. We know NotDean is a recurring role so we’ll see more of him. (Well, I’m not sure I will be there to watch, because this is boring af.)

This episode used all its interest coins in the strip club scene and then became dreadfully boring. I don’t even have some witty line to close this post.

This was a rollercoaster that went my brain go through a blender in the first six minutes or so and then killed the remaining braincells through boredom.

That’s it guys. What can I say. This is the CW’s Walker. Yee.

#marghe watches walker for some darned reason #cw's jared: legit texan

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army-of-mai-lovers · 4 years

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ATLA Fic Recs part 2!

part 1 (consider this link a re-rec of everything I recced in part 1, bc those fics are still amazing and at this point many of them that weren’t complete are finished now which is cool!)

So I’m structuring this fic recs list a little differently than I did the first one. First one was just “fics I like” with no regard to how popular the fics were and a little bit of thought as to balancing gen fics with ship fics and trying to have a diversity of ships listed. This time, I am paying attention to how popular the fics are, and while I’m probably still going to rec popular fics/fic authors, I’m hoping to also expose people to some new authors with this list (as well as exposing people to work from their favorite authors that they may not have read)! Expanding your horizons is a really good thing, it’s how I’ve found basically every fic I love, and I hope y’all will love each of the fics I’m reccing as much as I do! In no particular order:

1. her beauty in the moonlight overthrew you by @aangsblush I said that I was going to rec this a couple days ago and here I am doing it because HOW ON EARTH IS THIS FIC AS BRILLIANT AS IT IS AND NOT LIGHTING THE FANDOM ON FIRE RIGHT NOW. I’ve genuinely never read a fic like this before. Never in my life. It’s a collection of vignettes, mostly dealing with Hakoda and Sokka’s various experiences of grief with Kya and Yue (and there’s a little bit of cute bakoda and sukka sprinkled in there as well). Like I said, the chapters were vignettes, some of them as short as two or three sentences, and yet somehow I was crying after every single chapter???? The author uses language so sparingly and so impactfully and I truly cannot get over how brilliant this is like bruh. who gave you the right. Who. Who. Tbh I could make a whole post about this fic (and I have!) but instead, I’m going to direct you to the fic, bc really, it speaks for itself.

2. laughter lines by @bi-suki To be completely real, I tend not to read sad fics, or seek out sad media in general, but I read this fic and I’m so glad I did. It’s a modern au about Sokka and his family moving to Anchorage, separating him from his childhood best friend, Yue. Make sure you read the tags before you read this fic, please. It’s really sad. I started tearing up while writing out just that quick summary. Keep a box of tissues handy. I’ve read a lot of this author’s fics and they all have a habit of sticking in my head long after I’ve read them, but this one really packs a punch. Sokka’s grief and his friendship with Yue is written in such an intimate and beautiful way, and yes, I literally am crying right now thinking about it. I do think it’s hard to pull off writing yukka, especially in a modern au, while giving appropriate depth to both Sokka and Yue, but this fic really managed it so well. Even though this fic made me sad, I don’t regret reading it one bit.

3. call it fate by @bluberry-spicehead y’all are really converting me into a maiko shipper and honestly I’m so here for it. Mai’s one of my favorite characters in ATLA, and the care that the fic takes in portraying her perspective as well as her relationships with Zuko, Azula, and Ty Lee (despite the fact that Zuko isn’t even there when the fic takes place)--I mean, it’s honestly just incredible work. I’ve seen a lot of joke-y posts about “oh what if x happened with Aunt Wu instead of what happened in canon?” but never with Maiko and never quite the way this fic describes it. It’s really original and really carefully done, with all the complexity and nuance of their relationship infused into the details of the fic. And the way that Mai is written is both in character for her and expands on existing canon in a way that I really believe works for her. The writing is so immediate and really roots you in the world and in Mai’s head and I love it I love it I love it!

4. i am your savior, your last serving daughter by @gays4korra *sokka voice* SUKI! Bruh. BRUH. The amount that I love both Suki and Kyoshi cannot be overstated, they’re both such fascinating and complex characters, and yet some people (*cough* the fandom *cough*) don’t want to see them in their full and complete brilliance. Enter this fic, which shows Suki and Kyoshi meeting, like someone saw my wildest dreams and was like “hey that’s a cool fic idea!” The TEARS I cried reading this fic (yes, I am aware that this is the fourth time I’ve mentioned crying over a fic in just this one post, these fic authors are incredibly talented and I have three planets in Cancer, fight me) Suki and Kyoshi, icons themselves, conversing across time???? iconic. simply iconic. And then the fact that Sokka orchestrated the whole thing because he wanted to make Suki happy? I love them, your honor. And Kyoshi being happy that Suki looks up to her because really Kyoshi’s a fluffy dork with self-esteem issues.... I’m crying again it’s so beautiful I’ve looked at it for five hours now. Gosh. read this fic.

5. Balance My Heart in The Palm of Your Hands by @spookysukki ok while looking for this person’s tumblr I found out that this was their first work in the fandom and can I just say pal you POPPED OFF with this one fic and I hope that you write more because this was. This was awesome. Mailee is def in my top 5 (possibly top 2) ATLA ships but unfortunately I have a hard time finding content for it. Fortunately, every time I do find content for it it’s incredibly cute and this was absolutely no exception. It’s also the rare Mai & Sokka friendship fic which is not something I knew I needed in my life but is a concept that I am completely obsessed with having read this. Basically, Mai’s jealous of Sokka because Ty Lee keeps talking about Sokka being attractive, and shenanigans ensue. And you know me, I love shenanigans. This is also a Mai perspective fic which is awesome because as I said earlier, I love love LOVE Mai, and she’s so sweet and broody in this lsfjskdfjk I love her so much what an icon.

5. earth system history by @pianjeong I have read this fic. So many times. I could honestly probably recite it from memory (jfdksjflsd ok that’s not true but at this rate I probably will be able to soon). It is an absolutely stunning fic. It’s like all my favorite parts of college condensed into one story (running around buildings you probably shouldn’t be in in the middle of the night with the person you have a crush on, coming out to your professor who is also gay, all iconic college moods). I’m simply obsessed with the way each character is written, and it’s so clear that the author knows what she’s talking about when it comes to geology, and that in general this fic was written with a lot of love for the characters of ATLA and also for rocks. It’s that love that keeps me coming back to this one. Cannot recommend it enough.

6. the end is barely beginning by @katarahairloopies gosh I don’t even know where to start with this one other than I cannot believe that it almost wasn’t posted and I’m so glad that it was because you truly can never have enough father/son moments between Hakoda and Sokka and I care them. I care them so much. Also can I just say Hakoda not remembering all of Sokka and Katara’s friends’ names and having to really think about it is such a dad mood. I can’t remember a single time in my life where my dad could remember all of my friends’ names (and there were points in my life where he would have only had to remember one name and yet. and yet.) I really love ATLA fics that are character studies because they tend to really retain the complexity of the characters as they’re depicted in the show (or make them more complex) and this one is no exception. There were so many lines of this that were just really poignant and beautiful. Again, cannot recommend it enough.

#atla fic recs #gosh so many of these are hakoda focused bless #hakoda #sokka #yue #suki #yukka #sukka #mai #maiko #kyoshi #zukka #mailee #ty lee #caps tw

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ninaraise2020 · 3 years

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2020 Book List

For 2020, I made a new years resolution to read 52 books by the end of the year.... which is one of the first new years resolutions I’ve actually kept!! Here are some of my favorites, and my thoughts about everything I read.

As a note: I know audiobooks // ebooks aren’t everyone’s thing, but I read most of these through the Brooklyn Public Library using Libby, and through HOOPLA, the LAPL app. HOOPLA has a ton of stuff, and all you need is to write down an LA address to get a virtual library card. (And just saying, they don’t do anything to confirm that’s your actual address...)

MY LIST with favorites bolded (in the order I read them)

The first bad man, Miranda July

Can’t we talk about something more pleasant, roz chast

Killing and Dying, Adrian Tomine

The Idiot, Elif Batuman

Bad Friends, Ancco

Fully coherent plan: for a better society, David Shrigley

Through a Life, Tom Haugomat

A Body Worth Defending, Ed Cohen

The Hospital Suite, John Porcellini

Excuse Me, Liana Finck

Ongoingness, Sarah Manguso

The Romance of Tristan, Beroul

Two Kinds of Decay, Sarah Manguso

Unfinished Business, Vivian Gornick

300 Arguments, Sarah Manguso

No one belongs here more than you, Miranda July

Anti-Diet, Christy Harrison

Women, Chloe Caldwell

Romance or the End, Elaine Kahn

How to Murder Your Life, Cat Marnell

Rubyfruit Jungle, Rita Mae Brown

A Body Undone, Christina Crosby

Delta of Venus, Anaïs Nin

Sick, Porochista Khakpour

Autobiography of Red, Anne Carson

Eros the Bittersweet, Anne Carson

Norma Jean Baker of Troy, Anne Carson

Hunger, Roxanne Gay

Grief Sequence, Prageeta Sharma

The Undying, Anne Boyer

Illness as Metaphor, Susan Sontag

Gut Feminism, Elizabeth A. Wilson

Come as You Are, Emily Nagoski

Practicalities, Marguerite Duras

The Soft Life, Bridgette Talone

Look at Me, Anita Brookner

The Cancer Diaries, Audre Lorde

Zami, Audre Lorde

Fearing the Black Body, Sabrina Strings

Unbearable lightness, Portia di Rossi

The Art of Cruelty, Maggie Nelson

The Marriage Plot, Jeffrey Eugenides

The Red Parts, Maggie Nelson

Jazz, Toni Morrison

The Virgin Suicides, Jeffrey Eugenides

Motherless Brooklyn, Jonathan Lethem

Pain Studies, Lisa Olstein

The Left Hand of Darkness, Ursula k. Le Guin

Song of Achilles, Madeline Miller

Catalogue of Unabashed Gratitude, Ross Gay

Coeur de Leon, Ariana Reines

On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous, Ocean Vuong

TOP 10 Books (in no order)

The Cancer Diaries, Audre Lorde

Song of Achilles, Madeline Miller

Eros the Bittersweet, Anne Carson

Unfinished Business, Vivian Gornick

The Marriage Plot, Jeffrey Eugenides

Autobiography of Red, Anne Carson

Zami, Audre Lorde

Catalogue of Unabashed Gratitude, Ross Gay

Come as You Are, Emily Nagoski

Coeur de Lion, Ariana Reines

Favorite queer books

Song of Achilles, Madeline Miller

Rubyfruit Jungle, Rita Mae Brown

The Cancer Diaries, Audre Lorde

Zami, Audre Lorde

Autobiography of Red, Anne Carson

On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous, Ocean Vuong

Catalogue of Unabashed Gratitude, Ross Gay

Favorite books about illness

Sick, Porochista Khakpour

A Body Undone, Christina Crosby

The Cancer Diaries, Audre Lorde

The Undying, Anne Boyer

Gut Feminism, Elizabeth A. Wilson

Pain Studies, Lisa Olstein

Two Kinds of Decay, Sarah Manguso

Favorite graphic novels

Through a Life, Tom Haugomat

The Hospital Suite, John Porcellini

Excuse Me, Liana Finck

Can’t we talk about something more pleasant? Roz Chast

Killing and Dying, Adrian Tomin

Favorite nonfiction

Fearing the Black Body, Sabrina Strings

Anti-Diet, Christy Harrison

The Art of Cruelty, Maggie Nelson

Gut-Feminism, Elizabeth A. Wilson

Come as You Are, Emily Nagoski

A Body Worth Defending, Ed Cohen

AND..... if you’re interested in seeing my thoughts on each book.....

A Complete List of Every Book I Read in 2020 and My Thoughts (listed in the order read)

The first bad man, Miranda July

This book is absolutely wild, and I greatly enjoyed it – I don’t think it’s everyone’s cup of tea, but if you’re looking for something very funny, surreal and visceral, I’d recommend. I described it to my friend as like if my psyche wrote a book, or like a very true dream. I enjoyed her collection of short stories, No One Belongs Here More Than You, more - but they’re both excellent.

Killing and Dying, Adrian Tomine

This was the first graphic novel I read this year. Zadie Smith said about this book, “Adrian Tomine has more ideas in twenty panels than novelists have in a lifetime,” so I was very intrigued. It reminds me a lot of Nick Drnaso’s Sabrina which is one of my favorite (if not my favorite) graphic novels. I love the book’s minimalist style, and bits of it felt like getting punched emotionally – so I’d recommend if you’re looking for that!

Can’t we talk about something more pleasant? Roz Chast

Roz Chast’s memoir about her parent’s final years is incredibly funny and beautifully done. I think New York Jews will especially enjoy – but I’d recommend to anyone!

The Idiot, Elif Batuman

For whatever reason, this book really grated on my nerves and I was not a fan. Batuman writes about a freshman at Harvard studying linguistics and writing emails to this man I wanted to punch. A lot of people love this book, so I definitely wouldn’t say not to read it – perhaps it just triggered too much of my anxiety from freshman year of college to be pleasurable. I find it similar to Jeffrey Eugenides’ The Marriage Plot, but I liked The Marriage Plot significantly more.

Bad Friends, Ancco

Content warning for abuse/violence – this graphic novel is really dark, and the violence is quite graphic. But overall, I thought it was beautifully done – and I really love the author’s drawing style.

Fully coherent plan: for a better society, David Shrigley

I love David Shrigley – this book is really silly, and I honestly just picked it up from the library because the outside looks fun. It’s a quick read mostly made up of minimalist drawings – so if you want something not-too-serious that will make you laugh, I’d recommend.

Through a life, Tom Haugomat

I also grabbed this from the library because it looked pretty (oops). I absolutely love this illustrator (he’s worth following on Insta even if you don’t read this book). It’s a series of illustrations of a boy that wants to be an astronaut, and it’s one of the most astoundingly beautiful things I’ve read this year. There are no words, and I nearly cried at the end.

A Body Worth Defending, Ed Cohen

This book discusses the history/construction of autoimmunity, and how the idea of a body “attacking itself” is inherently biopolitical. As someone with an autoimmune disorder, I found this book fascinating, but it’s also really dense so I’d just recommend if you have a particular interest in autoimmunity.

The Hospital Suite, John Porcellini

Done by the author of King Cat, this graphic novel follows the protagonist through a series of different severe medical problems. I thought it was really well done and would recommend if you’re interested in art about chronic illness.

Excuse Me, Liana Finck

I’m obsessed with everything Liana Finck does – if you don’t follow her on Instagram you should! – and this book was no exception. It’s very funny and poignant – if you like her cartoons, you’d definitely enjoy!

Ongoingness, Sarah Manguso

My friend recommended this to me a few years ago, and I recently reread. Sarah Manguso writes about her lifelong pursuit of keeping a hyper-meticulous diary, which fascinated me as someone who used to do this, too. It’s a very quick read and made me think more deeply about the desire to constantly record ones’ life as a protection against passing time.

The Romance of Tristan, Beroul

This book is wild – I read it for a class. It’s a medieval book that doesn’t really make sense and I do not think you should read it unless you are also taking a class on Medieval Drugs.

Two Kinds of Decay, Sarah Manguso

Here, Manguso writes about her autoimmune blood disorder, and her suicidal depression, relating the experience of her first flare when she was in college. Big content warning for graphic depictions of hospitals/illness/needles etc., as well as depression. I found it interesting, but I cannot overstate how graphic and upsetting this book is.

Unfinished Business, Vivian Gornick

Absolutely one of the best books I read this year. I saw Vivian Gornick talk at Pomona and was floored. Here, Gornick writes about being a chronic-re reader, and discusses some of her favorite books and how her relationship changed with them throughout time. I found myself underlining everything, her prose is just so wonderful. I think everyone should read this.

300 Arguments, Sarah Manguso

I like Sarah Manguso, so I ordered this. It’s a set of interconnected aphorisms like “Bad art is from no one to no one.” Manguso is clearly brilliant and this book is very well written – it’s just a bit too minimalist for me. I would definitely recommend Ongoingness if you want to read something by her.

No one belongs here more than you, Miranda July

I am obsessed with this short story collection. Again, don’t think Miranda July is everyone’s cup of tea, but the stories were so viscerally weird in a way that really resonated with me.

Anti-Diet, Christy Harrison

I’ve listened to Christy Harrison’s podcast Food Psych for a while now, so was very excited when her book came out. The book focuses on (in Harrison’s words) “Reclaim[ing] your time, money, health, and happiness from our toxic diet culture.” As someone in ED recovery, this book/Harrison’s work in general have changed my life (which I do not say lightly!) – anyone who struggles with body image/their relationship with food should absolutely read this.

Women, Chloe Caldwell

I read this because a girl on Tinder told me too (lol) – it’s about a woman’s sexual awakening and relationship with this woman, Finn, who reminds me of a lot of hot women I follow on Tik Tok that wear suits and look mean. It takes a minute to get into. I overall enjoyed it, and was touched by the book at the end, but found a lot of the prose to be pretty clunky. So, would I recommend – I don’t know, maybe?

Romance or the End, Elaine Kahn

My friend recommended this book of poetry to me. Elaine Kahn is so talented and writes so beautifully – another book where I found myself underlining everything. Would definitely recommend!

How to Murder Your Life, Cat Marnell

Cat Marnell’s memoir recounts her struggles with bulimia and addiction while working as a beauty editor. I found it enthralling and hard to put down. I recommended it to a friend who had to put it down because it was too stressful. I think it’s a great book, but not for everyone.

Rubyfruit Jungle, Rita Mae Brown

If the meaning of the title intrigues you, I would definitely recommend. This coming-of-age story follows Brown’s childhood, and relationships with women. I thought I liked Women by Chloe Caldwell until I read this book. Very gay, very good!!!! I could not put it down!

A Body Undone, Christina Crosby

In this memoir, Crosby writes about queerness/disability through the lens of her experience after a bicycle accident that left her paralyzed. If you want something gay with lots of theory, this book is for you! Fun fact: Crosby is the friend Nelson writes about in The Argonauts. As a heads up, though, the descriptions of pain can be pretty graphic/triggering.

Delta of Venus, Anaïs Nin

I wanted to read something by Anaïs Nin and this is absolutely NOT what I should have read. Nin wrote this erotica for a man who didn’t like romance and wanted her to skip to the sex – the foreword is basically her ranting about the man who commissioned her to write this work. There’s a lot of (unsurprisingly) incest, as well as depictions of rape/assault. I do not recommend.

Sick, Porochista Khakpour

Sick is a memoir about Khakpour’s experience living with lyme disease, and her struggle to attain a diagnosis and proper treatment. I didn’t know anything about lyme, so found this book very enlightening. I’d add it to your list if you’re interested in memoirs of chronic illness.

Eros the Bittersweet, Anne Carson

I read this book because a character in the L Word talked about it (oops….). But wow, this is truly one of the best things I’ve ever read (thanks Marina!). Even Carson’s prose is breathtakingly poetic – she stitches together Sappho’s writing, Greek myths & critical theory so seamlessly. I felt like a different person when I finished.

Autobiography of Red, Anne Carson

I absolutely loved this book. Autobiography of Red is a love story between two men based on a Greek myth. It feels surprisingly epic, despite being a pretty short read. It feels a bit like the long-form-poem version of Song of Achilles. (If you read this book and enjoyed it, absolutely read Song of Achilles).

Norma Jean Baker of Troy, Anne Carson

I love Anne Carson, but I didn’t enjoy this book as much as the others. Maybe it’s because it’s a performance piece and I read it rather than watching it be performed, or maybe I just didn’t get it.

Hunger, Roxanne Gay

In this memoir, Roxanne Gay writes about her rape (so content warning for that, as there are very graphic descriptions), and her relationship with her body. This is one of the most brutally honest books I’ve encountered about food, body image and eating disorders – Gay does not sanitize her self-blame and self-hatred – and it’s an important counternarrative to how fatness is commonly represented in the media. I would not recommend it if you’re in the depths of an ED or early on in ED recovery because it’s pretty triggering. I think it’s an important read, but I wouldn’t feel comfortable just telling anyone to read it off the bat.

Grief Sequence, Prageeta Sharma

Prageeta Sharma is a Pomona professor who is wonderful, so I was very excited to read her book. Grief Sequence is an evocative, moving, and incredibly powerful story of Sharma losing her husband to cancer. It made me even more excited to work with her, and I would definitely recommend especially if you go to the 5cs!

The Undying, Anne Boyer

I’m not sure exactly what to call The Undying – maybe memoir, maybe autofiction? But Boyer combines narrative about her own experience with breast cancer with cultural criticism, drawing on both her experience as a poet and an essayist. This book was definitely one of my favorite works about illness I’ve read this year.

Illness as Metaphor, Susan Sontag

I found this book interesting, but not my favorite of what I’ve read about chronic illness. Sontag writes about how tuberculosis and cancer take on particular cultural symbolism – did you know that tuberculosis was associated with sexual desirability? I did not! Perhaps the piece wasn’t as interesting to me because people don’t tend to get tuberculosis anymore. If you’re particularly interested in TB/cancer, or if you’re writing your thesis about chronic illness I would read, but otherwise, not sure I I’d recommend.

Gut Feminism, Elizabeth A. Wilson

This book discusses depression through the lens of the gut, arguing for feminists to incorporate biological data into their analysis. It’s pretty dense, so I’d only recommend if depression, anti-depressants, and the politics of the gut are particularly interesting to you. But as someone interested in those things, great read!

Come as You Are, Emily Nagoski

Here, Nagoski discusses female sexuality and arousal in a way that made me realize I actually knew nothing about how female arousal works. For example, did you know wetness ≠ arousal? I didn’t! This book truly revolutionized how I think about sex/sexuality. The only caveat is that the book does center on the experiences of cis women (which the author does admit in a disclaimer at the beginning), so I hope that there are future works that touch on the same ideas in more inclusive ways.

Practicalities, Marguerite Duras

I really like Marguerite Duras – The Lover is one of my favorite books – but this book didn’t really do it for me. Duras is brilliant, but parts of it felt a bit mundane/dated. A lot of people love this book, though, so I feel like it’s just me!

The Soft Life, Bridgette Talone

I made a goal for myself to read more poetry this year, since I usually read mostly prose. This is an example of the kind of poetry I struggle reading – l am less drawn to poetry that completely strays away from narrative – and this book was a bit too abstract for me. There’s beautiful imagery, it just felt like it went over my head. But it was recommended by a friend whose taste I greatly respect, so maybe it’s for you and just no for me!

Look at Me, Anita Brookner

This book took me a while to finish. Look at Me follows a librarian and aspiring novelist in her friendship with a glamorous couple. It’s very dry, witty, observant, and brilliantly satirical. I’m very glad I finished it, but it took a while to get pulled in.

The Cancer Diaries, Audre Lorde

Lorde writes about loving women, and her experience with breast cancer. It’s a collection of entries from her journal, combined with meditations on these entries. So, so very beautiful! Also very heartbreaking. This might be my favorite book I’ve read about illness.

Zami, Audre Lorde

Lorde’s wonderful coming-of-age novel covers her life growing up in New York, and her relationships with different women. It took me a bit to get into it, but once I did it was addictive to read. Certain scenes are just so breathtakingly vivid, and I don’t think I’ve read anyone who writes as well as Lorde about loving women. Also, she went to my high school, so that part was very wild to read – definitely recommend in particular to fellow Hunterites!

Fearing the Black Body, Sabrina Strings

I’ve wanted to read this book ever since listening to Strings on one of my favorite podcasts (FoodPsych). This book discusses the historical construction of thinness as an ideal tied to whiteness – it’s very well written and illuminating. I feel like the idealization of thinness is something that is often really tolerated and encouraged in liberal spaces (*cough* Claremont colleges *cough*), so definitely recommend. If you don’t have time for the book, I’d definitely suggest checking out the podcast episode!

Unbearable Lightness, Portia di Rossi

This memoir discusses di Rossi’s experience with anorexia/bulimia, and her relationship with her queerness. I read it in a day, I was so engrossed. However, I wouldn’t recommend to anyone in early stages of ED recovery, or in the thrust of an eating disorder.

The Art of Cruelty, Maggie Nelson

If you have read other works by Maggie Nelson and enjoyed them, and are interested in literature about cruelty, I’d recommend! It’s more theoretical than her other works and it’s pretty dense – I’ll definitely have to read it again to fully ‘get’ it. But Nelson is such a brilliant cultural critic that it’s a pleasure to read anything she writes. Like “truth in art is but a feeling”?? Yes!! Go off!!

The Marriage Plot, Jeffrey Eugenides

This is definitely top five of the books I’ve read this year. I was floored when I was finished. It’s set at Brown, but so many of the descriptions of campus life really resonated and amused me. The end was heart-wrenching. The prose is so evocative. I loved it.

The Red Parts, Maggie Nelson

This book focuses on the trial for the brutal murder of Nelson’s aunt by a stranger – it’s very gruesome but enthralling. I couldn’t put it down.

Jazz, Toni Morrison

I listened to the audiobook which Toni Morrison reads, which is great. Jazz is set in Harlem in the 1920s, and though it’s pretty short, it’s incredibly vivid and haunting. It’s one of the most original and intriguing narratives I’ve encountered (not even including the beauty of the prose), and unlike anything else I’ve read.

The Virgin Suicides, Jeffrey Eugenides

I read this because I loved The Marriage Plot so much. I didn’t like this as much as I liked The Marriage Plot or Middlesex. After I finished, I thought I didn’t like it, and then I listened to this podcast called Sentimental Garbage and decided I did like it after all. I was frustrated throughout the book at how obtuse the women are, but after getting over my sadness that we never figured out why the girls killed themselves, I have more appreciation for Eugenides’ vision.

Motherless Brooklyn, Jonathan Lethem

Motherless Brooklyn is different from what I usually read – it’s the only detective novel on this list – but I loved it. It’s set in my neighborhood in Brooklyn, which is particularly exciting (and why my Dad is a big Lethem stan). It’s one of the most original books I’ve ever read, and the descriptions are astoundingly innovative and vivid. It’s also really funny! And he’s a Pomona professor! My mom is reading it too for the WNYC book club, which I believe you can still join if you want.

Pain Studies, Lisa Olstein

Another illness book! Olstein writes about her experience with migraines, and also theorizes about pain. I haven’t read any book exclusively focused on pain, so this was cool! It didn’t resonate with me as much as other stuff I’ve read, but still very good.

The Left Hand of Darkness, Ursula k. Le Guin

I was very excited for this book, which is a work of sci-fi written in 1969 about a world where everyone is gender-fluid and has no sexual prejudice. I didn’t enjoy it as much as I had expected to – perhaps because the main drama of the book is finding out whether this world is going to trade with another world, and I am just not very interested in trade. Sci-fi is also not really a genre I read often, so I wouldn’t do much with the fact that this book didn’t resonate.

Song of Achilles, Madeline Miller

I’ve cried maybe six times this year and finishing this book was one of them. It’s gay. It’s Greek. It’s epic. If you liked Percy Jackson and now, you’re part of the LGBTQ community you have to read it. This is the kind of book that made me worried it had ruined all other books. I think this is a perfect book, or at least the closest I can imagine.

Catalogue of Unabashed Gratitude, Ross Gay

This book is astoundingly beautiful. A friend recommended it and said it made his writing a lot happier - which was exactly what I needed! – and this description rings true. I definitely have more trouble reading poetry than prose but found this book very powerful and engaging. I read it in one sitting.

Coeur de Leon, Ariana Reines

Absolutely one of my favorite books of poetry! Coeur de Leon embodies the exact kind of poetry I really like – the language is accessible, it’s visceral, it has a narrative – and also made me feel seen. I feel like it’s also one of those books made for people that like to write, especially about love. Very much recommend.

On Earth, We’re Briefly Gorgeous, Ocean Vuong

It took me a while to get into this one, and I felt for a while that everything was too depressing to enjoy it. While I do definitely want to revisit in post-pandemic times, I still was deeply moved. Big content warning though for drug abuse, death, and probably some other stuff I’m forgetting.

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aboveallarescuer · 4 years

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How prophecies, dreams and magical intuition drive Dany’s story

As I was rereading ASOIAF, I made it my goal to compile all* the book passages demonstrating either certain key attributes of Daenerys Targaryen (e.g. that she's compassionate and smart) or aspects of hers that are usually overstated (e.g. that she's ambitious and prophecy-driven). Doing such a task may seem exaggerated, but I'd argue it's not, for many, many misconceptions about Dany have become widespread in light of the show's final season's events (and even before).

It must be acknowledged that it can be tricky to reference, say, ADWD passages to counter-argument how she was depicted in season eight (which allegedly follows ADOS events). Dany will have had plenty of character development in the span of two books. However, whatever happens to Dany in the next two books, I would argue that there is more than enough material to conclude that her show counterpart was made to fall for flaws that she (for the most part) never had and actions that she (for the most part) would never take. (and that's not even considering the double standards and the contradictions with what had been shown from show!Dany up until then, but that's obviously out of the scope of these lists)

Another objection to the purpose of these lists is that Game of Thrones is different from A Song of Ice and Fire and should be analyzed on its own, which is a fair point. However, the show is also an adaptation of these books, which begs the questions: why did they change Dany's character? Why did they overfocus on negative traits of hers or depicted them as negative when they weren't supposed to be or gave her negative traits that were never hers to begin with? Another fact that undermines the show=/=books argument is that most people think that the show's ending will be the books', albeit only in broad strokes and in different circumstances. As a result, people's perception of Dany is inevitably influenced by the show, which is a shame.

I hope these lists can be useful for whoever wants to find book passages to defend (or even simply explore different facets of) Dany's character in metas or conversations.

*Well, at least all the passages that I could find in her chapters, which is no guarantee that the effort was perfectly executed, but I did my best.

Also, people could interpret certain passages differently and then come up with a different collection of passages if they ever attempted to make one, so I'm not saying that this list is completely objective (nor that there could ever be one).

Also, some passages have been cut short according to whether they were, IMO, relevant to the specific topic of the list they're in, so the context surrounding them may not always be clear (always read the books and use asearchoficeandfire). Many of them appear in different lists, sometimes fully referenced, sometimes not.

I listed the passages back to front because I felt doing so highlighted Dany's evolution better.

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To justify the existence of this list, let's see examples of widespread opinions that I feel misrepresent Daenerys Targaryen:

The more absolute power she consolidated, the more she was lauded as a selfless hero. [...] Being hailed as a savior for so long has made her fall for that narrative more than anyone. She’s come to believe she is a goddess among men. So when she slides into doing the wrong thing, it becomes easy for her to justify why -- if she did it -- it must be right. [...] It’s almost impossible to imagine walking through fire and experiencing the intense worship she’s known without coming to think you have superhuman rights to decide the future of the world. (The Take)

The gods flipped a coin for Dany that can — and does — fall either way. But it tends to come up good when the people love her, and bad when the people don’t. She’s repeatedly saying I have a destiny. I will park my ass on the Iron Throne. Here’s how it’s going to work: You’re going to bend the knee, or you’re going to die. I’d prefer if you loved me. I’ll accept that you fear me. A bent knee or your death. (x)

She can and does dehumanize those who stand between her and her (perceived) destiny. (x)

I would argue these claims certainly cannot be made after reading the books (some can't even after watching the show's first 71 episodes, but the show can be all over the place and ... I digress), so take a look at these passages.

NOTE: I didn't include anything from ACOK Dany IV because she's receiving the prophecies rather than reacting to or acting based on them. I preferred to focus on how they influence her characterization and felt that that chapter wouldn't serve for that purpose. The dragon dreams on AGOT, however, are often interwoven with her reactions and the strength and confidence she usually derives from them, so I added them.

A Dance with Dragons

ADWD Daenerys X

“To go north, you must journey south. To reach the west, you must go east. To go forward, you must go back. To touch the light you must pass beneath the shadow.”

“Quaithe?” Dany called. “Where are you, Quaithe?”

Then she saw. Her mask is made of starlight. “Remember who you are, Daenerys,” the stars whispered in a woman’s voice. “The dragons know. Do you?”

Bells, Dany thought, smiling, remembering Khal Drogo, her sun-and-stars, and the bells he braided into his hair. When the sun rises in the west and sets in the east, when the seas go dry and mountains blow in the wind like leaves, when my womb quickens again and I bear a living child, Khal Drogo will return to me.

She called until her voice was hoarse ... and Drogon came, snorting plumes of smoke. The grass bowed down before him. Dany leapt onto his back. She stank of blood and sweat and fear, but none of that mattered. “To go forward I must go back,” she said. Her bare legs tightened around the dragon’s neck. She kicked him, and Drogon threw himself into the sky. Her whip was gone, so she used her hands and feet and turned him north by east, the way the scout had gone.

ADWD Daenerys IX

“Khrazz believes the hearts of brave men make him stronger,” said Hizdahr. Jhiqui murmured her approval. Dany had once eaten a stallion’s heart to give strength to her unborn son … but that had not saved Rhaego when the maegi murdered him in her womb. Three treasons shall you know. She was the first, Jorah was the second, Brown Ben Plumm the third. Was she done with betrayals?

ADWD Daenerys VIII

“The Yunkai’i grow weaker as well. The bloody flux has taken hold amongst the Tolosi, it is said, and spread across the river to the third Ghiscari legion.”

The pale mare. Daenerys sighed. Quaithe warned me of the pale mare’s coming. She told me of the Dornish prince as well, the sun’s son. She told me much and more, but all in riddles. “I cannot rely on plague to save me from my enemies.[”]

Every child knows its mother, Dany thought. When the seas go dry and mountains blow in the wind like leaves … “They call to me. Come.”

Dany slid her arms around him and let him have his way. Drunk as he was, she knew he would not be inside her long.

Nor was he. Afterward he nuzzled at her ear and whispered, “Gods grant that we have made a son tonight.”

The words of Mirri Maz Duur rang in her head. When the sun rises in the west and sets in the east. When the seas go dry and mountains blow in the wind like leaves. When your womb quickens again, and you bear a living child. Then he will return, and not before. The meaning was plain enough; Khal Drogo was as like to return from the dead as she was to bear a living child. But there are some secrets she could not bring herself to share, even with a husband, so she let Hizdahr zo Loraq keep his hopes.

ADWD Daenerys VII

She found herself remembering her nightmare. Sometimes there is truth in dreams. Could Hizdahr zo Loraq be working for the warlocks, was that what the dream had meant? Could the dream have been a sending? Were the gods telling her to put Hizdahr aside and wed this Dornish prince instead? Something tickled at her memory. “Ser Barristan, what are the arms of House Martell?”

“A sun in splendor, transfixed by a spear.”

The sun’s son. A shiver went through her. “Shadows and whispers.” What else had Quaithe said? The pale mare and the sun’s son. There was a lion in it too, and a dragon. Or am I the dragon? “Beware the perfumed seneschal.” That she remembered. “Dreams and prophecies. Why must they always be in riddles? I hate this. Oh, leave me, ser. Tomorrow is my wedding day.”

ADWD Daenerys VI

“Captain, you made mention of four free companies. We know of only three. The Windblown, the Long Lances, and the Company of the Cat.”

“Ser Grandfather knows how to count. The Second Sons have gone over to the Yunkai’i.” Daario turned his head and spat. “That’s for Brown Ben Plumm. When next I see his ugly face I will open him from throat to groin and rip out his black heart.”

Dany tried to speak and found no words. She remembered Ben’s face the last time she had seen it. It was a warm face, a face I trusted. Dark skin and white hair, the broken nose, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. Even the dragons had been fond of old Brown Ben, who liked to boast that he had a drop of dragon blood himself. Three treasons will you know. Once for gold and once for blood and once for love. Was Plumm the third treason, or the second? And what did that make Ser Jorah, her gruff old bear? Would she never have a friend that she could trust? What good are prophecies if you cannot make sense of them? If I marry Hizdahr before the sun comes up, will all these armies melt away like morning dew and let me rule in peace?

��I thought you would be the one to betray me. Once for blood and once for gold and once for love, the warlocks said. I thought … I never thought Brown Ben. Even my dragons seemed to trust him.” She clutched her captain by the shoulders. “Promise me that you will never turn against me. I could not bear that. Promise me.”

ADWD Daenerys V

His bitterness dismayed her, so much so that Dany found herself wondering if the grizzled Pentoshi could be one of her three betrayers. No, he is only an old man, far from home and sick at heart.

“We must pray,” said the Green Grace. “The gods sent this man to us. He comes as a harbinger. He comes as a sign.”

“A sign of what?” asked Dany.

“A sign of wroth and ruin.”

She did not want to believe that. “He was one man. One sick man with an arrow in his leg. A horse brought him here, not a god.” A pale mare. Dany rose abruptly. “I thank you for your counsel and for all that you did for this poor man.”

“Your Worship, I beg you, take the noble Hizdahr for your king at once. He can speak with the Wise Masters, make a peace for us.”

“On what terms?” Beware the perfumed seneschal, Quaithe had said. The masked woman had foretold the coming of the pale mare, was she right about the noble Reznak too?

ADWD Daenerys IV

“...In him the prophecies shall be fulfilled, and your enemies will melt away like snow.”

He shall be the stallion that mounts the world. Dany knew how it went with prophecies. They were made of words, and words were wind. There would be no son for Loraq, no heir to unite dragon and harpy. When the sun rises in the west and sets in the east, when the seas go dry and mountains blow in the wind like leaves. Only then would her womb quicken once again …

Dany folded her hands together. “Words are wind, even words like love and peace. I put more trust in deeds. In my Seven Kingdoms, knights go on quests to prove themselves worthy of the maiden that they love. They seek for magic swords, for chests of gold, for crowns stolen from a dragon’s hoard.”

Beware the perfumed seneschal. Has Reznak made common cause with Hizdahr and the Green Grace and set some trap to snare me?

ADWD Daenerys II

“...Hear me, Daenerys Targaryen. The glass candles are burning. Soon comes the pale mare, and after her the others. Kraken and dark flame, lion and griffin, the sun’s son and the mummer’s dragon. Trust none of them. Remember the Undying. Beware the perfumed seneschal.”

“Reznak? Why should I fear him?” Dany rose from the pool. Water trickled down her legs, and gooseflesh covered her arms in the cool night air. “If you have some warning for me, speak plainly. What do you want of me, Quaithe?”

[...] “To show you the way.”

“I remember the way. I go north to go south, east to go west, back to go forward. And to touch the light I have to pass beneath the shadow.” She squeezed the water from her silvery hair. “I am half-sick of riddling. In Qarth I was a beggar, but here I am a queen. I command you—”

“Daenerys. Remember the Undying. Remember who you are.”

“The blood of the dragon.” But my dragons are roaring in the darkness. “I remember the Undying. Child of three, they called me. Three mounts they promised me, three fires, and three treasons. One for blood and one for gold and one for …”

When Reznak and Skahaz appeared, she found herself looking at them askance, mindful of the three treasons. Beware the perfumed seneschal. She sniffed suspiciously at Reznak mo Reznak. I could command the Shavepate to arrest him and put him to the question. Would that forestall the prophecy? Or would some other betrayer take his place? Prophecies are treacherous, she reminded herself, and Reznak may be no more than he appears.

ADWD Daenerys I

There were times when Dany wondered if that razor might not be better saved for Reznak’s throat. He was a useful man, but she liked him little and trusted him less. The Undying of Qarth had told her she would be thrice betrayed. Mirri Maz Duur had been the first, Ser Jorah the second. Would Reznak be the third? The Shavepate? Daario? Or will it be someone I would never suspect, Ser Barristan or Grey Worm or Missandei?

A Storm of Swords

ASOS Daenerys VI

Across the room, Grey Worm wore the plain uniform of the Unsullied, his spiked bronze cap beneath one arm. These at least she could rely on, or so she hoped ... and Brown Ben Plumm as well, solid Ben with his grey-white hair and weathered face, so beloved of her dragons. And Daario beside him, glittering in gold. Daario and Ben Plumm, Grey Worm, Irri, Jhiqui, Missandei ... as she looked at them Dany found herself wondering which of them would betray her next.

The dragon has three heads. There are two men in the world who I can trust, if I can find them. I will not be alone then. We will be three against the world, like Aegon and his sisters.

“Daenerys,” he said, “I have loved you.”

And there it was. Three treasons will you know. Once for blood and once for gold and once for love.

She was Daenerys Stormborn, the Unburnt, khaleesi and queen, Mother of Dragons, slayer of warlocks, breaker of chains, and there was no one in the world that she could trust.

ASOS Daenerys V

“If you were grown,” she told Drogon, scratching him between the horns, “I’d fly you over the walls and melt that harpy down to slag.” But it would be years before her dragons were large enough to ride. And when they are, who shall ride them? The dragon has three heads, but I have only one.

Could I love Daario? What would it mean, if I took him into my bed? Would that make him one of the heads of the dragon? Ser Jorah would be angry, she knew, but he was the one who’d said she had to take two husbands. Perhaps I should marry them both and be done with it.

“Khaleesi, it was only at the start, before I came to know you ... before I came to love ...”

“Do not say that word!” She backed away from him. “How could you? What did the Usurper promise you? Gold, was it gold?” The Undying had said she would be betrayed twice more, once for gold and once for love. “Tell me what you were promised?”

“Varys said ... I might go home.” He bowed his head.

I was going to take you home! [...] Was there no one she could trust, no one to keep her safe?

ASOS Daenerys IV

Dany found herself wondering whether he was right about Daario. She felt very lonely all of a sudden. Mirri Maz Duur had promised that she would never bear a living child. House Targaryen will end with me. That made her sad. “You must be my children,” she told the dragons, “my three fierce children. Arstan says dragons live longer than men, so you will go on after I am dead.”

Ser Jorah urged her to go, but Dany remembered a dream she had dreamed in the House of the Undying. “They will not hurt me,” she told him. “They are my children, Jorah.” She laughed, put her heels into her horse, and rode to them, the bells in her hair ringing sweet victory. She trotted, then cantered, then broke into a gallop, her braid streaming behind. The freed slaves parted before her. “Mother,” they called from a hundred throats, a thousand, ten thousand. “Mother,” they sang, their fingers brushing her legs as she flew by. “Mother, Mother, Mother!”

ASOS Daenerys III

That night she dreamt that she was Rhaegar, riding to the Trident. But she was mounted on a dragon, not a horse. When she saw the Usurper’s rebel host across the river they were armored all in ice, but she bathed them in dragonfire and they melted away like dew and turned the Trident into a torrent. Some small part of her knew that she was dreaming, but another part exulted. This is how it was meant to be. The other was a nightmare, and I have only now awakened.

She woke suddenly in the darkness of her cabin, still flush with triumph. Balerion seemed to wake with her, and she heard the faint creak of wood, water lapping against the hull, a footfall on the deck above her head. And something else.

Someone was in the cabin with her.

“Irri? Jhiqui? Where are you?” Her handmaids did not respond. It was too black to see, but she could hear them breathing. “Jorah, is that you?”

“They sleep,” a woman said. “They all sleep.” The voice was very close. “Even dragons must sleep.”

She is standing over me. “Who’s there?” Dany peered into the darkness. She thought she could see a shadow, the faintest outline of a shape. “What do you want of me?”

“Remember. To go north, you must journey south. To reach the west, you must go east. To go forward you must go back, and to touch the light you must pass beneath the shadow.”

“Quaithe?” Dany sprung from the bed and threw open the door. Pale yellow lantern light flooded the cabin, and Irri and Jhiqui sat up sleepily. “Khaleesi?” murmured Jhiqui, rubbing her eyes. Viserion woke and opened his jaws, and a puff of flame brightened even the darkest corners. There was no sign of a woman in a red lacquer mask. “Khaleesi, are you unwell?” asked Jhiqui.

“A dream.” Dany shook her head. “I dreamed a dream, no more. Go back to sleep. All of us, go back to sleep.” Yet try as she might, sleep would not come again.

ASOS Daenerys I

They are my children, she told herself, and if the maegi spoke truly, they are the only children I am ever like to have.

“Sit, good ser, and tell me what is troubling you.”

“Three things.” Ser Jorah sat. “Strong Belwas. This Arstan Whitebeard. And Illyrio Mopatis, who sent them.”

Again? Dany pulled the coverlet higher and tugged one end over her shoulder. “And why is that?”

“The warlocks in Qarth told you that you would be betrayed three times,” the exile knight reminded her, as Viserion and Rhaegal began to snap and claw at each other.

“Once for blood and once for gold and once for love.” Dany was not like to forget. “Mirri Maz Duur was the first.”

“Which means two traitors yet remain ... and now these two appear. I find that troubling, yes. Never forget, Robert offered a lordship to the man who slays you.”

“My queen,” he said, “and the bravest, sweetest, and most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Daenerys—”

“Your Grace!”

“Your Grace,” he conceded, “the dragon has three heads, remember? You have wondered at that, ever since you heard it from the warlocks in the House of Dust. Well, here’s your meaning: Balerion, Meraxes, and Vhagar, ridden by Aegon, Rhaenys, and Visenya. The three-headed dragon of House Targaryen—three dragons, and three riders.”

“Yes,” said Dany, “but my brothers are dead.”

“Rhaenys and Visenya were Aegon’s wives as well as his sisters. You have no brothers, but you can take husbands. And I tell you truly, Daenerys, there is no man in all the world who will ever be half so true to you as me.”

A Clash of Kings

ACOK Daenerys V

Dany found her thoughts returning to the Palace of Dust once more, as the tongue returns to a space left by a missing tooth. Child of three, they had called her, daughter of death, slayer of lies, bride of fire. So many threes. Three fires, three mounts to ride, three treasons. “The dragon has three heads,” she sighed. “Do you know what that means, Jorah?”

“Your Grace? The sigil of House Targaryen is a three-headed dragon, red on black.”

“I know that. But there are no three-headed dragons.”

“The three heads were Aegon and his sisters.”

“Visenya and Rhaenys,” she recalled. “I am descended from Aegon and Rhaenys through their son Aenys and their grandson Jaehaerys.”

“Blue lips speak only lies, isn’t that what Xaro told you? Why do you care what the warlocks whispered? All they wanted was to suck the life from you, you know that now.”

“Perhaps,” she said reluctantly. “Yet the things I saw ...” “A dead man in the prow of a ship, a blue rose, a banquet of blood ... what does any of it mean, Khaleesi? A mummer’s dragon, you said. What is a mummer’s dragon, pray?” “A cloth dragon on poles,” Dany explained. “Mummers use them in their follies, to give the heroes something to fight.”

Ser Jorah frowned.

Dany could not let it go. “His is the song of ice and fire, my brother said. I’m certain it was my brother. Not Viserys, Rhaegar. He had a harp with silver strings.”

Ser Jorah’s frown deepened until his eyebrows came together. “Prince Rhaegar played such a harp,” he conceded. “You saw him?”

She nodded. “There was a woman in a bed with a babe at her breast. My brother said the babe was the prince that was promised and told her to name him Aegon.”

“Prince Aegon was Rhaegar’s heir by Elia of Dorne,” Ser Jorah said. “But if he was this prince that was promised, the promise was broken along with his skull when the Lannisters dashed his head against a wall.”

“I remember,” Dany said sadly. “They murdered Rhaegar’s daughter as well, the little princess. Rhaenys, she was named, like Aegon’s sister. There was no Visenya, but he said the dragon has three heads. What is the song of ice and fire?”

“It’s no song I’ve ever heard.”

“I went to the warlocks hoping for answers, but instead they’ve left me with a hundred new questions.”

“The great cog Saduleon is berthed at the end of the quay, and the galleys Summer Sun and Joso’s Prank are anchored beyond the breakwater.”

Three heads has the dragon, Dany thought, wondering. “I shall tell my people to make ready to depart at once. But the ships that bring me home must bear different names.”

“As you wish,” said Arstan. “What names would you prefer?”

“Vhagar,” Daenerys told him. “Meraxes. And Balerion. Paint the names on their hulls in golden letters three feet high, Arstan. I want every man who sees them to know the dragons are returned.”

ACOK Daenerys III

“No trick,” a woman said in the Common Tongue.

Dany had not noticed Quaithe in the crowd, yet there she stood, eyes wet and shiny behind the implacable red lacquer mask. “What mean you, my lady?”

“Half a year gone, that man could scarcely wake fire from dragonglass. He had some small skill with powders and wildfire, sufficient to entrance a crowd while his cutpurses did their work. He could walk across hot coals and make burning roses bloom in the air, but he could no more aspire to climb the fiery ladder than a common fisherman could hope to catch a kraken in his nets.”

[...] “And now?”

“And now his powers grow, Khaleesi. And you are the cause of it.”

“Me?” She laughed. “How could that be?”

The woman stepped closer and lay two fingers on Dany’s wrist. “You are the Mother of Dragons, are you not?”

“You must leave this city soon, Daenerys Targaryen, or you will never be permitted to leave it at all.”

Dany’s wrist still tingled where Quaithe had touched her. “Where would you have me go?” she asked.

“To go north, you must journey south. To reach the west, you must go east. To go forward you must go back, and to touch the light you must pass beneath the shadow.”

Asshai, Dany thought. She would have me go to Asshai. “Will the Asshai’i give me an army?” she demanded. “Will there be gold for me in Asshai? Will there be ships? What is there in Asshai that I will not find in Qarth?”

“Truth,” said the woman in the mask. And bowing, she faded back into the crowd.

The comet led me to Qarth for a reason. I had hoped to find my army here, but it seems that will not be. What else remains, I ask myself?” I am afraid, she realized, but I must be brave. “Come the morrow, you must go to Pyat Pree.”

ACOK Daenerys II

Last of the three seekers to depart was Quaithe the shadowbinder. From her Dany received only a warning. “Beware,” the woman in the red lacquer mask said.

“Of whom?”

“Of all. They shall come day and night to see the wonder that has been born again into the world, and when they see they shall lust. For dragons are fire made flesh, and fire is power.”

When Quaithe too was gone, Ser Jorah said, “She speaks truly, my queen ... though I like her no more than the others.”

“I do not understand her.” Pyat and Xaro had showered Dany with promises from the moment they first glimpsed her dragons, declaring themselves her loyal servants in all things, but from Quaithe she had gotten only the rare cryptic word. And it disturbed her that she had never seen the woman’s face. Remember Mirri Maz Duur, she told herself. Remember treachery.

As the handmaids toweled her dry and wrapped her in a sandsilk robe, Dany’s thoughts went to the three who had sought her out in the City of Bones. The Bleeding Star led me to Qarth for a purpose. Here I will find what I need, if I have the strength to take what is offered, and the wisdom to avoid the traps and snares. If the gods mean for me to conquer, they will provide, they will send me a sign, and if not ... if not ...

ACOK Daenerys I

The Dothraki named the comet shierak qiya, the Bleeding Star. The old men muttered that it omened ill, but Daenerys Targaryen had seen it first on the night she had burned Khal Drogo, the night her dragons had awakened. It is the herald of my coming, she told herself as she gazed up into the night sky with wonder in her heart. The gods have sent it to show me the way.

Yet when she put the thought into words, her handmaid Doreah quailed. “That way lies the red lands, Khaleesi. A grim place and terrible, the riders say.”

“The way the comet points is the way we must go,” Dany insisted ... though in truth, it was the only way open to her.

Dany looked at the horizon with despair. They had lost a third of their number, and still the waste stretched before them, bleak and red and endless. The comet mocks my hopes, she thought, lifting her eyes to where it scored the sky. Have I crossed half the world and seen the birth of dragons only to die with them in this hard hot desert? She would not believe it.

“Ghosts,” Irri muttered. “Terrible ghosts. We must not stay here, Khaleesi, this is their place.”

“I fear no ghosts. Dragons are more powerful than ghosts.” And figs are more important. “Go with Jhiqui and find me some clean sand for a bath, and trouble me no more with silly talk.”

Khal Drogo had been her sun-and-stars, her first, and perhaps he must be her last. The maegi Mirri Maz Duur had sworn she should never bear a living child, and what man would want a barren wife? And what man could hope to rival Drogo, who had died with his hair uncut and rode now through the night lands, the stars his khalasar?

A Game of Thrones

AGOT Daenerys X

Bound hand and foot, Mirri Maz Duur watched from the dust with disquiet in her black eyes. “It is not enough to kill a horse,” she told Dany. “By itself, the blood is nothing. You do not have the words to make a spell, nor the wisdom to find them. Do you think bloodmagic is a game for children? You call me maegi as if it were a curse, but all it means is wise. You are a child, with a child’s ignorance. Whatever you mean to do, it will not work. Loose me from these bonds and I will help you.”

“I am tired of the maegi’s braying,” Dany told Jhogo. He took his whip to her, and after that the godswife kept silent.

[“]Please, Khaleesi. I know what you intend. Do not. Do not.”

“I must,” Dany told him. She touched his face, fondly, sadly. “You do not understand.”

“I understand that you loved him,” Ser Jorah said in a voice thick with despair. “I loved my lady wife once, yet I did not die with her. You are my queen, my sword is yours, but do not ask me to stand aside as you climb on Drogo’s pyre. I will not watch you burn.”

“Is that what you fear?” Dany kissed him lightly on his broad forehead. “I am not such a child as that, sweet ser.”

“You do not mean to die with him? You swear it, my queen?”

“I swear it,” she said in the Common Tongue of the Seven Kingdoms that by rights were hers.

The Dothraki were muttering and giving her strange sideways looks from the corners of their dark almond eyes. They thought her mad, Dany realized. Perhaps she was. She would know soon enough. If I look back I am lost.

“Bring my eggs,” Dany commanded her handmaids. Something in her voice made them run.

Ser Jorah took her arm. “My queen, Drogo will have no use for dragon’s eggs in the night lands. Better to sell them in Asshai. Sell one and we can buy a ship to take us back to the Free Cities. Sell all three and you will be a wealthy woman all your days.”

“They were not given to me to sell,” Dany told him.

She climbed the pyre herself to place the eggs around her sun-and-stars. The black beside his heart, under his arm. The green beside his head, his braid coiled around it. The cream-and-gold down between his legs.

As she climbed down off the pyre, she noticed Mirri Maz Duur watching her. “You are mad,” the godswife said hoarsely.

“Is it so far from madness to wisdom?” Dany asked. “Ser Jorah, take this maegi and bind her to the pyre.”

“I thank you, Mirri Maz Duur,” she said, “for the lessons you have taught me.”

“You will not hear me scream,” Mirri responded as the oil dripped from her hair and soaked her clothing.

“I will,” Dany said, “but it is not your screams I want, only your life. I remember what you told me. Only death can pay for life.” Mirri Maz Duur opened her mouth, but made no reply. As she stepped away, Dany saw that the contempt was gone from the maegi’s flat black eyes; in its place was something that might have been fear.

Then there was nothing to be done but watch the sun and look for the first star.

When a horselord dies, his horse is slain with him, so he might ride proud into the night lands. The bodies are burned beneath the open sky, and the khal rises on his fiery steed to take his place among the stars. The more fiercely the man burned in life, the brighter his star will shine in the darkness.

Jhogo spied it first. “There,” he said in a hushed voice. Dany looked and saw it, low in the east. The first star was a comet, burning red. Bloodred; fire red; the dragon’s tail. She could not have asked for a stronger sign.

Dany took the torch from Aggo’s hand and thrust it between the logs. The oil took the fire at once, the brush and dried grass a heartbeat later. Tiny flames went darting up the wood like swift red mice, skating over the oil and leaping from bark to branch to leaf. A rising heat puffed at her face, soft and sudden as a lover’s breath, but in seconds it had grown too hot to bear. Dany stepped backward. The wood crackled, louder and louder.

[...] She could smell the odor of burning flesh, no different than horseflesh roasting in a firepit. The pyre roared in the deepening dusk like some great beast, drowning out the fainter sound of Mirri Maz Duur’s screaming and sending up long tongues of flame to lick at the belly of the night. As the smoke grew thicker, the Dothraki backed away, coughing. Huge orange gouts of fire unfurled their banners in that hellish wind, the logs hissing and cracking, glowing cinders rising on the smoke to float away into the dark like so many newborn fireflies. The heat beat at the air with great red wings, driving the Dothraki back, driving off even Mormont, but Dany stood her ground. She was the blood of the dragon, and the fire was in her.

She had sensed the truth of it long ago, Dany thought as she took a step closer to the conflagration, but the brazier had not been hot enough. The flames writhed before her like the women who had danced at her wedding, whirling and singing and spinning their yellow and orange and crimson veils, fearsome to behold, yet lovely, so lovely, alive with heat. Dany opened her arms to them, her skin flushed and glowing. This is a wedding, too, she thought. Mirri Maz Duur had fallen silent. The godswife thought her a child, but children grow, and children learn.

Another step, and Dany could feel the heat of the sand on the soles of her feet, even through her sandals. Sweat ran down her thighs and between her breasts and in rivulets over her cheeks, where tears had once run. Ser Jorah was shouting behind her, but he did not matter anymore, only the fire mattered. The flames were so beautiful, the loveliest things she had ever seen, each one a sorcerer robed in yellow and orange and scarlet, swirling long smoky cloaks. She saw crimson firelions and great yellow serpents and unicorns made of pale blue flame; she saw fish and foxes and monsters, wolves and bright birds and flowering trees, each more beautiful than the last. She saw a horse, a great grey stallion limned in smoke, its flowing mane a nimbus of blue flame. Yes, my love, my sun-and-stars, yes, mount now, ride now.

Her vest had begun to smolder, so Dany shrugged it off and let it fall to the ground. The painted leather burst into sudden flame as she skipped closer to the fire, her breasts bare to the blaze, streams of milk flowing from her red and swollen nipples. Now, she thought, now, and for an instant she glimpsed Khal Drogo before her, mounted on his smoky stallion, a flaming lash in his hand. He smiled, and the whip snaked down at the pyre, hissing.

She heard a crack, the sound of shattering stone. The platform of wood and brush and grass began to shift and collapse in upon itself. Bits of burning wood slid down at her, and Dany was showered with ash and cinders. And something else came crashing down, bouncing and rolling, to land at her feet; a chunk of curved rock, pale and veined with gold, broken and smoking. The roaring filled the world, yet dimly through the firefall Dany heard women shriek and children cry out in wonder.

Only death can pay for life.

And there came a second crack, loud and sharp as thunder, and the smoke stirred and whirled around her and the pyre shifted, the logs exploding as the fire touched their secret hearts. She heard the screams of frightened horses, and the voices of the Dothraki raised in shouts of fear and terror, and Ser Jorah calling her name and cursing. No, she wanted to shout to him, no, my good knight, do not fear for me. The fire is mine. I am Daenerys Stormborn, daughter of dragons, bride of dragons, mother of dragons, don’t you see? Don’t you SEE? With a belch of flame and smoke that reached thirty feet into the sky, the pyre collapsed and came down around her. Unafraid, Dany stepped forward into the firestorm, calling to her children.

The third crack was as loud and sharp as the breaking of the world.

When the fire died at last and the ground became cool enough to walk upon, Ser Jorah Mormont found her amidst the ashes, surrounded by blackened logs and bits of glowing ember and the burnt bones of man and woman and stallion. She was naked, covered with soot, her clothes turned to ash, her beautiful hair all crisped away ... yet she was unhurt.

The cream-and-gold dragon was suckling at her left breast, the green-and-bronze at the right. Her arms cradled them close. The black-and-scarlet beast was draped across her shoulders, its long sinuous neck coiled under her chin. When it saw Jorah, it raised its head and looked at him with eyes as red as coals.

Wordless, the knight fell to his knees. The men of her khas came up behind him. Jhogo was the first to lay his arakh at her feet. “Blood of my blood,” he murmured, pushing his face to the smoking earth. “Blood of my blood,” she heard Aggo echo. “Blood of my blood,” Rakharo shouted.

And after them came her handmaids, and then the others, all the Dothraki, men and women and children, and Dany had only to look at their eyes to know that they were hers now, today and tomorrow and forever, hers as they had never been Drogo’s.

As Daenerys Targaryen rose to her feet, her black hissed, pale smoke venting from its mouth and nostrils. The other two pulled away from her breasts and added their voices to the call, translucent wings unfolding and stirring the air, and for the first time in hundreds of years, the night came alive with the music of dragons.

AGOT Daenerys IX

Wings shadowed her fever dreams. 

“You don’t want to wake the dragon, do you?”

She was walking down a long hall beneath high stone arches. She could not look behind her, must not look behind her. There was a door ahead of her, tiny with distance, but even from afar, she saw that it was painted red. She walked faster, and her bare feet left bloody footprints on the stone.

“You don’t want to wake the dragon, do you?”

She saw sunlight on the Dothraki sea, the living plain, rich with the smells of earth and death. Wind stirred the grasses, and they rippled like water. Drogo held her in strong arms, and his hand stroked her sex and opened her and woke that sweet wetness that was his alone, and the stars smiled down on them, stars in a daylight sky. “Home,” she whispered as he entered her and filled her with his seed, but suddenly the stars were gone, and across the blue sky swept the great wings, and the world took flame.

“... don’t want to wake the dragon, do you?”

Ser Jorah’s face was drawn and sorrowful. “Rhaegar was the last dragon,” he told her. He warmed translucent hands over a glowing brazier where stone eggs smouldered red as coals. One moment he was there and the next he was fading, his flesh colorless, less substantial than the wind. “The last dragon,” he whispered, thin as a wisp, and was gone. She felt the dark behind her, and the red door seemed farther away than ever.

“... don’t want to wake the dragon, do you?”

Viserys stood before her, screaming. “The dragon does not beg, slut. You do not command the dragon. I am the dragon, and I will be crowned.” The molten gold trickled down his face like wax, burning deep channels in his flesh. “I am the dragon and I will be crowned!” he shrieked, and his fingers snapped like snakes, biting at her nipples, pinching, twisting, even as his eyes burst and ran like jelly down seared and blackened cheeks.

“... don’t want to wake the dragon ... ”

The red door was so far ahead of her, and she could feel the icy breath behind, sweeping up on her. If it caught her she would die a death that was more than death, howling forever alone in the darkness. She began to run.

“... don’t want to wake the dragon ...”

She could feel the heat inside her, a terrible burning in her womb. Her son was tall and proud, with Drogo’s copper skin and her own silver-gold hair, violet eyes shaped like almonds. And he smiled for her and began to lift his hand toward hers, but when he opened his mouth the fire poured out. She saw his heart burning through his chest, and in an instant he was gone, consumed like a moth by a candle, turned to ash. She wept for her child, the promise of a sweet mouth on her breast, but her tears turned to steam as they touched her skin.

“... want to wake the dragon ...”

Ghosts lined the hallway, dressed in the faded raiment of kings. In their hands were swords of pale fire. They had hair of silver and hair of gold and hair of platinum white, and their eyes were opal and amethyst, tourmaline and jade. “Faster,” they cried, “faster, faster.” She raced, her feet melting the stone wherever they touched. “Faster!” the ghosts cried as one, and she screamed and threw herself forward. A great knife of pain ripped down her back, and she felt her skin tear open and smelled the stench of burning blood and saw the shadow of wings. And Daenerys Targaryen flew.

“... wake the dragon ...”

The door loomed before her, the red door, so close, so close, the hall was a blur around her, the cold receding behind. And now the stone was gone and she flew across the Dothraki sea, high and higher, the green rippling beneath, and all that lived and breathed fled in terror from the shadow of her wings. She could smell home, she could see it, there, just beyond that door, green fields and great stone houses and arms to keep her warm, there. She threw open the door.

“... the dragon ...”

And saw her brother Rhaegar, mounted on a stallion as black as his armor. Fire glimmered red through the narrow eye slit of his helm. “The last dragon,” Ser Jorah’s voice whispered faintly. “The last, the last.” Dany lifted his polished black visor. The face within was her own.

Flakes of ash drifted upward from a brazier, and Dany followed them with her eyes through the smoke hole above. Flying, she thought. I had wings, I was flying. But it was only a dream. “Help me,” she whispered, struggling to rise. “Bring me ...” Her voice was raw as a wound, and she could not think what she wanted. Why did she hurt so much? It was as if her body had been torn to pieces and remade from the scraps. “I want ...”

“Yes, Khaleesi.” Quick as that Jhiqui was gone, bolting from the tent, shouting. Dany needed ... something ... someone ... what? It was important, she knew. It was the only thing in the world that mattered. She rolled onto her side and got an elbow under her, fighting the blanket tangled about her legs. It was so hard to move. The world swam dizzily. I have to ...

They found her on the carpet, crawling toward her dragon eggs. [...]

“I must,” she tried to tell them, “I have to ...”

“ ... sleep, Princess,” Ser Jorah said.

“No,” Dany said. “Please. Please.”

“Bring ... I want to hold ...”

“Yes?” the maegi asked. “What is it you wish, Khaleesi?” 

“Bring me ... egg ... dragon’s egg ... please ... ” Her lashes turned to lead, and she was too weary to hold them up.

When she woke the third time, a shaft of golden sunlight was pouring through the smoke hole of the tent, and her arms were wrapped around a dragon’s egg. It was the pale one, its scales the color of butter cream, veined with whorls of gold and bronze, and Dany could feel the heat of it. Beneath her bedsilks, a fine sheen of perspiration covered her bare skin. Dragondew, she thought. Her fingers trailed lightly across the surface of the shell, tracing the wisps of gold, and deep in the stone she felt something twist and stretch in response. It did not frighten her. All her fear was gone, burned away.

My son is dead, she thought as Jhiqui left the tent. She had known somehow. She had known since she woke the first time to Jhiqui’s tears. No, she had known before she woke. Her dream came back to her, sudden and vivid, and she remembered the tall man with the copper skin and long silver-gold braid, bursting into flame.

She should weep, she knew, yet her eyes were dry as ash. She had wept in her dream, and the tears had turned to steam on her cheeks. All the grief has been burned out of me, she told herself. She felt sad, and yet ... she could feel Rhaego receding from her, as if he had never been.

Ser Jorah and Mirri Maz Duur entered a few moments later, and found Dany standing over the other dragon’s eggs, the two still in their chest. It seemed to her that they felt as hot as the one she had slept with, which was passing strange. “Ser Jorah, come here,” she said. She took his hand and placed it on the black egg with the scarlet swirls. “What do you feel?”

“Shell, hard as rock.” The knight was wary. “Scales.”

“Heat?”

“No. Cold stone.”

“When will he be as he was?” Dany demanded.

“When the sun rises in the west and sets in the east,” said Mirri Maz Duur. “When the seas go dry and mountains blow in the wind like leaves. When your womb quickens again, and you bear a living child. Then he will return, and not before.”

“When the sun rises in the west and sets in the east,” she said sadly. “When the seas go dry and mountains blow in the wind like leaves. When my womb quickens again, and I bear a living child. Then you will return, my sun-and-stars, and not before.”

Never, the darkness cried, never never never.

AGOT Daenerys VIII

The Dothraki were shouting, Mirri Maz Duur wailing inside the tent like nothing human, Quaro pleading for water as he died. Dany cried out for help, but no one heard. Rakharo was fighting Haggo, arakh dancing with arakh until Jhogo’s whip cracked, loud as thunder, the lash coiling around Haggo’s throat. A yank, and the bloodrider stumbled backward, losing his feet and his sword. Rakharo sprang forward, howling, swinging his arakh down with both hands through the top of Haggo’s head. The point caught between his eyes, red and quivering. Someone threw a stone, and when Dany looked, her shoulder was torn and bloody. “No,” she wept, “no, please, stop it, it’s too high, the price is too high.” More stones came flying. She tried to crawl toward the tent, but Cohollo caught her. Fingers in her hair, he pulled her head back and she felt the cold touch of his knife at her throat. “My baby,” she screamed, and perhaps the gods heard, for as quick as that, Cohollo was dead. Aggo’s arrow took him under the arm, to pierce his lungs and heart.

[...] The breath went out of her; it was all she could do to gasp. The sound of Mirri Maz Duur’s voice was like a funeral dirge. Inside the tent, the shadows whirled.

“Take her to the maegi.”

No, Dany wanted to say, no, not that, you mustn’t, but when she opened her mouth, a long wail of pain escaped, and the sweat broke over her skin. What was wrong with them, couldn’t they see? Inside the tent the shapes were dancing, circling the brazier and the bloody bath, dark against the sandsilk, and some did not look human. She glimpsed the shadow of a great wolf, and another like a man wreathed in flames.

[...] No, she shouted, or perhaps she only thought it, for no whisper of sound escaped her lips. She was being carried. Her eyes opened to gaze up at a flat dead sky, black and bleak and starless. Please, no. The sound of Mirri Maz Duur’s voice grew louder, until it filled the world. The shapes! she screamed. The dancers!

Ser Jorah carried her inside the tent.

AGOT Daenerys VI

She would not shiver with fear. The Usurper has woken the dragon now, she told herself ... and her eyes went to the dragon’s eggs resting in their nest of dark velvet. The shifting lamplight limned their stony scales, and shimmering motes of jade and scarlet and gold swam in the air around them, like courtiers around a king.

Was it madness that seized her then, born of fear? Or some strange wisdom buried in her blood? Dany could not have said. She heard her own voice saying, “Ser Jorah, light the brazier.” “Khaleesi?” The knight looked at her strangely. “It is so hot. Are you certain?” She had never been so certain. “Yes. I ... I have a chill. Light the brazier.”

He bowed. “As you command.”

When the coals were afire, Dany sent Ser Jorah from her. She had to be alone to do what she must do. This is madness, she told herself as she lifted the black-and-scarlet egg from the velvet. It will only crack and burn, and it’s so beautiful, Ser Jorah will call me a fool if I ruin it, and yet, and yet ...

Cradling the egg with both hands, she carried it to the fire and pushed it down amongst the burning coals. The black scales seemed to glow as they drank the heat. Flames licked against the stone with small red tongues. Dany placed the other two eggs beside the black one in the fire. As she stepped back from the brazier, the breath trembled in her throat.

She watched until the coals had turned to ashes. Drifting sparks floated up and out of the smokehole. Heat shimmered in waves around the dragon’s eggs. And that was all.

Your brother Rhaegar was the last dragon, Ser Jorah had said. Dany gazed at her eggs sadly. What had she expected? A thousand thousand years ago they had been alive, but now they were only pretty rocks. They could not make a dragon. A dragon was air and fire. Living flesh, not dead stone.

AGOT Daenerys V

“What does it mean?” she asked. “What is this stallion? Everyone was shouting it at me, but I don’t understand.”

“The stallion is the khal of khals promised in ancient prophecy, child. He will unite the Dothraki into a single khalasar and ride to the ends of the earth, or so it was promised. All the people of the world will be his herd.”

“Oh,” Dany said in a small voice.

AGOT Daenerys III

Yet when she slept that night, she dreamt the dragon dream again. Viserys was not in it this time. There was only her and the dragon. Its scales were black as night, wet and slick with blood. Her blood, Dany sensed. Its eyes were pools of molten magma, and when it opened its mouth, the flame came roaring out in a hot jet. She could hear it singing to her, She opened her arms to the fire, embraced it, let it swallow her whole, let it cleanse her and temper her and scour her clean. She could feel her flesh sear and blacken and slough away, could feel her blood boil and turn to steam, and yet there was no pain. She felt strong and new and fierce.

And the next day, strangely, she did not seem to hurt quite so much. It was as if the gods had heard her and taken pity. Even her handmaids noticed the change. “Khaleesi,” Jhiqui said, “what is wrong? Are you sick?”

“I was,” she answered, standing over the dragon’s eggs that Illyrio had given her when she wed. She touched one, the largest of the three, running her hand lightly over the shelf. Black-and-scarlet, she thought, like the dragon in my dream. The stone felt strangely warm beneath her fingers ... or was she still dreaming? She pulled her hand back nervously.

From that hour onward, each day was easier than the one before it. Her legs grew stronger; her blisters burst and her hands grew callused; her soft thighs toughened, supple as leather.

As she let the door flap close behind her, Dany saw a finger of dusty red light reach out to touch her dragon’s eggs across the tent. For an instant a thousand droplets of scarlet flame swam before her eyes. She blinked, and they were gone.

Stone, she told herself. They are only stone, even Illyrio said so, the dragons are all dead. She put her palm against the black egg, fingers spread gently across the curve of the shell. The stone was warm. Almost hot. “The sun,” Dany whispered. “The sun warmed them as they rode.” [...] “Have you ever seen a dragon?” she asked as Irri scrubbed her back and Jhiqui sluiced sand from her hair. She had heard that the first dragons had come from the east, from the Shadow Lands beyond Asshai and the islands of the Jade Sea. Perhaps some were still living there, in realms strange and wild.

AGOT Daenerys II

There are no more dragons, Dany thought, staring at her brother, though she did not dare say it aloud.

Yet that night she dreamt of one. Viserys was hitting her, hurting her. She was naked, clumsy with fear. She ran from him, but her body seemed thick and ungainly. He struck her again. She stumbled and fell. “You woke the dragon,” he screamed as he kicked her. “You woke the dragon, you woke the dragon.” Her thighs were slick with blood. She closed her eyes and whimpered. As if in answer, there was a hideous ripping sound and the crackling of some great fire. When she looked again, Viserys was gone, great columns of flame rose all around, and in the midst of them was the dragon. It turned its great head slowly. When its molten eyes found hers, she woke, shaking and covered with a fine sheen of sweat. She had never been so afraid ...

... until the day of her wedding came at last.

#daenerys targaryen #a dance with dragons #a storm of swords #a clash of kings #a game of thrones #dany passages

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skamamoroma · 3 years

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A few fandom related things that have cheered me the heck up in early 2021:

A Tale of 1000 Stars

So the same friend in Japan who recommended ITSAY (and we all know how I feel about that) also recommended me this show and told me it was created by a recognised director for LGBT+ work as he is a member of the community himself and that the story, and I quote, “is so far up your alley, Meg, if you don’t cry at ever episode I’m going to be surprised”. She knows me well so I gave it a go and it may only be on episode 5 but LORD HELP ME. It’s beautiful. My friend told me it was such a focused genuine sweet heartwarming love story and she was so right. The chemistry between the two leads is some of the best I’ve seen in such a long time and I have to laugh because I HAVE cried every Friday. It’s just so damn heartwarming. The way the story is constructed means there is some drama but it’s handled very well and doesnt overshadow the love story. It’s incredibly incredibly warm and full of heart and sweetness. I love that the characters get to express their sexuality without any drama re: their sexuality. It’s kind of a none thing except for a lovely scene in ep5. The focus is on the complexity of the two characters and their unique personalities but how they compliment one another and change each other for the better. They’re both so damn loveable and so are all of the other characters especially Dr Nam who I am so endlessly fond of... and the kid who are stupidly cute especially with Tian. The scenery, the music (oh the music), the time given to sweet moments just because and the genuine heart in every scene has made this show a total treat for me and it has cheered up my heart recently. I can’t overstate how beautiful and touching the story is. I really recommend it! (And I am 100% going to have to post about it here)

Feel Good

Oh this show. I recently had a rewatch because Season 2 is coming and, well, because I am a little bit in love with both Mae Martin and Charlotte Ritchie. I had forgotten how lovely this show is and how much I adore the way these two are together. I love the way the show is shot with this lovely natural chemistry and a touch of humour but it feels so real, like you’re watching through a hole in the wall! It makes some of the sweet moments or the heart wrenching moments a little overwhelming to watch, for me, because it looks and feels very realistic. I tend to shy away from shows that deal with addiction and it’s a topic that’s discussed but I think that’s why I love it so much because it handled it in a way I really enjoyed and learned from and didn’t feel frustrated by. I really love that Mae made this show and that it is such a clear labour of love but that their relationship was shown as so delightfully normal full of bath times and playful moments and just... living. It really made me smile and the second timing watching it was better than the first for me.

Non-English Music

I have not listened to music in English for most of the start of 2021 😂 I have gone from Scandi to K-Pop to Italian to Thai to Spanish...! Honestly, if you have any recommendations then send them to me ❤️ I fell into such a hole and I have discovered so many amazing songs and artists. I’ve always listened to music from other countries kinda consistently since my mum lived all over Asia and used to send me CDs when I was a teenager. I have also had a love of Scandi indie music for a long time (my absolute crush on the lead singer of Those Dancing Days back at Uni... oh when I saw them live they were amazing) but people who don’t venture beyond their own language when it comes to music (and so much else) are missing out big time. Plus, my Italian is helped so much by singing in it!!!! You learn how to roll and R better when it’s sung quickly hahaha. I have turned my kitchen into a mini disco and danced about so much this year by myself just to cheer myself up and it has been mostly to stuff I don’t understand but love all the same 😂 also go listen to Sammy Rae and Friends as she’s a unicorn of a human being as are her band and their music is HAPPINESS

ITSAY part 2 release date

MY HEART IS NOT PREPARED. May 2021, her we come! The delay due to COVID was understandable and I don’t mind waiting at all. I loved the casting announcement and also that they’ve finished filming with, as far as I’m aware, zero filming spoilers being leaked at all. I cannot stress enough how excited I am to see what they do with Part 2. I am beyond excited.

Skam Italia rewatch

So a week ago, I needed some comfort or something to lift my mood so I turned to my little comfort show and LORD I had missed it. I rewatched so much and I was sitting at midnight sobbing into my cuppa. I have seen all the interviews and stuff from Besse and also Netflix IT and I have always kinda been very comfortable with the show not coming back as the ending was so satisfying and lovely but art of my heart just desperately wants more and I am curious to see what happens as clearly nobody has given up yet. But as I’ve said many times and I said this to myself as I rewatched recently - if they come back for a s5 I shall lose my shit. I miss the characters so much and I just want Besse to have a shot at an original storyline, I want to see what he’d do with characters he adores as much as we do. And... I was able to watch it about 60% withoufht subtitles and I could cry at how amazing that was!

OH AND STARDEW VALLEY. Of course. Always.

#no idea why I wanted to write all this down and not expecting someone to read it but we use what we can to get through right?!#personal

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vrenaewrites · 5 years

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My Favorite Books Ever (2019).

In June 2018, I did a video about my all time favorite books. I included 13 books and only a couple were young adult, which is the genre I write in.

Boy how things change in a year. I’ve read probably 20 books since then which isn’t a lot compared to other people, but you’d be surprised how many of those were absolute knockouts for me, quickly moving into my hall of fame favorites. So let’s revisit my top 10 list.

10. TIE: TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD by Harper Lee and MATILDA by Roald Dahl.

[previously #5 and #10, respectively]

These books have to be included on the basis of how much they meant to me as a child and young teen who was bookish, compassionate, and open-minded in my rural (read: often racist) southern community. Scout Finch and Matilda Wormwood were little girls I needed as a little girl, and while I may not reach for these “favorites” too often anymore, they’ll be some of the first books I share with my kids of reading age. They made me who I am.

9. THE MERCILESS by Danielle Vega Rollins.

[new addition]

Boy, oh, boy. If you didn’t catch the pop culture influences on my new WIP, you don’t even know what kind of impact this book had on me. If The Exorcist and Mean Girls had a baby written by Stephen King, this would be it. Sofia Flores is welcomed by the popular, virtuous girls at the expense of outcast Brooklyn, and the price for inclusion is higher than anyone could have known. This is a brutal, BRUTAL book. Full of intrigue, pulpy dirty laundry, and tons of gore, it’s not for the faint of heart. But it is right up my alley.

8. SHARP OBJECTS by Gillian Flynn.

[previously #8]

This book messed me up so bad I had to let my little sister borrow it so I had someone to talk about it with. It worked. Journalist Camille Preaker returns to her small Midwest town to investigate the disappearance of little girls, she has to reconnect with her toxic, dysfunctional family I’ve mentioned it before: a fucked up family and a strong sister dynamic - good or bad - are two of my favorite elements to read about. SHARP OBJECTS comes through with that in spades, along with questionable allies, mental illness in the protagonist, twist after twist, and the classic Gillian Flynn style of stylistic, highly personal writing.

7. THE EXORCIST by William Peter Blatty.

[previously #6]

I am totally and utterly obsessed with this story. I did see the movie before I read the book because I’m a horror movie junkie and I saw this movie at like, ten years old. Twelve year old Regan MacNeil makes an imaginary friend through a ouija board and things...get...weird from there. But of course, the story isn’t really about Regan. It’s about Father Karras, the titular exorcist who wrestles with the imaginary friend within Regan - the demon Pazuzu - and his own personal demons. The vulgar violence Regan is subjected to during her possession will burn into your brain forever, and the exploration of the relationship between god and man and devil feeds my dogmatic interests like few things really can.

6. THE HAUNTING OF HILL HOUSE by Shirley Jackson.

[previously #7]

I can’t overstate how much I love this book. From the queer coding of Theo and Nellie to the unsteady narration, Hill House has been ridiculously impactful on me since I read it almost two years ago. A parapsychologist invites people with paranormal experiences to spend time with him in the titular home, where he plans to prove the existence of paranormal activity. That’s right, this is the start of the ghost hunting trope, guys. Basically, these people get real fuckin’ haunted. As the sanity of each guest of Hill House is threatened and questioned, we as the reader start to wonder what the truth really is.

5. A HEAD FULL OF GHOSTS by Paul Tremblay.

[previously #4]

Paul Tremblay is a contemporary to Stephen King. I said what I said. The Barrett family is torn apart by the change in Marjorie, the oldest of their two daughters. As signs of acute schizophrenia become more prevalent, the father turns to religion and the mother turns to mental health professionals. As their resources deplete, they are forced to allow a reality tv show to document Marjorie’s affliction for the paycheck, where the reality and sanity of all involved comes unraveled. The narrators. The twists upon twists. The unrelenting tension as you become invested in finding out what is really wrong with Marjorie. It’s a book I wish I wrote.

4. THE FORBIDDEN GAME trilogy by LJ Smith.

[previously #3]

I just don’t know how to explain what this book did for me creatively. It’s 90s pulp horror and it made me realize that I kinda want to write 90s pulp horror...in 2019. It’s engaging, well written, interesting, unique, diverse, and quick. LJ Smith can do no wrong in my book.

3. HARRY POTTER AND THE PRISONER OF AZKABAN by JK Rowling.

[previously #2]

Do I have to get into this? The introduction of Remus Lupin, my literal father. The introduction of Sirius Black, my literal son. The introduction of not so annoying Hermione, literally me. The Draco punch. Buckbeak. Big baddies on the horizon. The first YA entry in the series. Chef’s kiss. Also the best film, I said what I said.

2. CARRIE by Stephen King.

[previously #1]

I know, I’m shook. Carrie has been dethroned. Don’t tell her though - we don’t want a prom repeat. Stephen King’s debut is ridiculously good - gritty, scary, brutal, sad, and believable despite being about a telekinetic teen who’s abused into massacring most of a town. Spoilers? The book is like 40 years old. Too bad.

HONORABLE MENTIONS:

Alice Hoffman’s PRACTICAL MAGIC [previously #9]

Grady Hendrix’s MY BEST FRIEND’S EXORCISM [new]

Dhonielle Clayton’s THE BELLES [new]

1. WE HAVE ALWAYS LIVED IN THE CASTLE by Shirley Jackson.

[new addition]

Oh my God, y’all. I read this book in one day while I was in upstate NY last month. I read it on a dock, on a lake, in 80 degree weather, and I had goosebumps by the end. Mary Katherine Blackwood and her sister Constance live alone in the Blackwood mansion, hated by the villagers, jeered at in the grocery store, and gossiped about - for good reason. Six years prior, their entire family was poisoned and the prime suspect, Constance, was acquitted to the disdain of the public. But when a long lost cousin hungry for the Blackwood fortune comes to visit, secret after secret is unearthed along with little Merricat’s various treasures of protection. Talk about twists. Jackson has a KNACK for the vicious town opinion - The Lottery, anyone? - and how it can ruin a family, a person, and how there can be no sole responsibility for mob mentality. I just cannot overstate how much I love this book.

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bladekindeyewear · 5 years

Text

Boots reads Homestuck Epilogue(s) Part 7 - Meat Page 26

==>

Back on to Jade swimming into the singularity or something. (And trying to stop thinking that maybe Candy ends with a giant polyamorous relationship and/or orgy, because I don’t imagine Rose would have acted so tamely if that’s what she saw.)

Yes, Time is the complement of Space, that was already confirmed in comic if it wasn’t super incredibly obvious all along anyway.

Gah, I’m getting stomach cramps again.

Yeah, too much Space makes Time invisible and vice versa? Or...

Maybe Dave broke her heart a little, and he keeps doing it too, no matter how many different timelines they try out.

God damnit these CRAMPS. Reading further.

Like a garden, where Jade used to spend so much of her time with her hands in the earth and her head in the clouds, dreaming about flowers that bloomed in six colors and grew when she played them a song. Was that real? It’s hard to tell. But it made her happy, didn’t it?

FUCK are you going to start making me doubt the reality of the liFe we saw her living early in-comic????? Cut it out, it’s unsettling!

Alright, alt!Callie is taking the reins from Dirk on this narrative he so smugly thought he could completely consume. That’s good/bad.

slutty adult Jade

FUCKING YIKES!! FUCK YOU DIRK!

FUCK I DIDN’T NEED HER DEATH DESCRIBED IN SUCH DETAIL EITHER. Also alt!Callie’s really embodying Death here.

==>

Pff. Calliope’s writing the story now, in a sense, like she always kind of wanted.

Also pff, this version of her doesn’t know how to describe human stuff colorfully. :)

An adversarial dichotomy between your opposing goals, huh? This might end up as a “none of us can really write the ending” ending that DOES leave it up in the air for everyone else to decide instead.

Fuck, now you’re having THIS Jade suffer by proxy by experiencing the other Jade’s memories. This metatextual ascension’s happening to everyone isn’t it.

Yeah, she’s done it before and stuff--

when jade turns to look at roxy, her eyes are completely black.

FUCK.

my presence shall mitigate, if not altogether subdue, the corrosive effect on reality and the will of its occupants by those who would manipulate the way events are telegraphed for their own megalomaniacal objectives.

Well, fuck. Jade’s been temporarily hijacked for the rest of the story AGAIN, like back in Condesce days, this time as a plot device to keep Dirk from overreaching with his god powers and stepping over everyone’s wills like an Ultimate Riddle style villain. Dirk, I mean. Being the villain. And alt!Callie just doing what she has to to put this back on track. Man I HATE it when Jade’s will doesn’t get to be on full display. Her will is awesome. (Also, alt!Callie just tacitly confirmed that the will of reality’s occupants matters, if that wasn’t obvious already, so ha.)

despite his pretensions to a greater design, the prince of heart cannot be allowed to continue to exert unchecked control over the authoritative recitation of events on this side of my horizon. it cannot be overstated the extent to which he represents a threat to the continued existence of both this world and corporeal life itself.

Yeah, it was indeed looking that way earlier.

Ooh, alt!Callie is really spot-on with her pronoun use.

Alright, Dirk’s voice is shrinking away, and my stomach still feels half-clenched.

Wow, alt!Callie’s really mad at what Dirk’s been doing with this epilogue.

==>

“EPILOGUE FIVE”?????

Did I miss the titles for one, three, and four??? Yeah there were probably there and I just missed them or something.

Pfffff, John looks/smells like shit. :D

...too fresh??

Fuck you John for thinking Monty Python and the Holy Grail isn’t a masterpiece. :P

terezi tips her head to one side, with what john personally regards as a cute expression, one he believes is unique to her. whether he’s correct or not, it’s his belief that there is no one else who emotes in this manner. it’s both quizzical and mocking, two descriptors that he considers to be an apt summation of her personality as well.

Niiiiice. Nice linguistic description of her “>:?” expression.

have no desire to interject thoughts into others’ minds, or to sway intent. nor do i see value in masking the reality of the emotions that i transcribe. this is how he feels. his mind, however, has made a habit of being less clear about his thoughts than i am willing to be.

Oh thank fucking god, I don’t have to question everyone’s thoughts anymore. Until Dirk comes back or something, I dunno.

Oh my fucking god, alt!Callie, you total voyeuristic nerd.

he fears he is in danger of seeming like the type of creepy human male who is likely to collect large pillows bearing the illustrated images of japanese earth females. to me, this idea means nothing. but it is causing him to sweat.

This is one very relatable snippet of text.

Feed Terezi Feed Terezi Feed Terezi

WHY is the gold tooth poisonous??????? ...Wait, Caliborn affixed it to his mouth intentionally. He had every right and motive to make it poisonous for no good reason. Ugh.

Beep beep, let’s find Vriska.

==>

WHAT

WHAT JANE

WHAT THE FLYING FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN DOING

JESUS

Using Trickster Mode as a drug to further one’s political performance. That’s fucking horrifying. No wonder it was on the triggers list.

additionally, it prevents one from dwelling on any given personal problems, or the greater implications of any political statements one might make.

Pff, mhmm.

Problematic, huh? Jane seems like the slightly-old-fashioned sort of person who thinks it’s getting kind of ridiculously silly how much people are caring about stuff being “problematic”. And yet that stuff DOES matter, and ignoring it DOES hurt people, and she not only isn’t seeing that but is drugging herself to see it LESS with that goddamned lollipop. Holy shit.

she turns around promptly, her body jolted by the surprise of her sudden reversal. she bends over, cradles the lollipop reverentially, and situates it carefully in a place signifying respect: atop the mantle, after clearing space for it by shoving several brittle, worthless objects to the floor.

PFFF. Okay, so alt!Callie ISN’T above altering characters slightly from their narrative course when it comes to one of the few things she deems important. Heh.

Having “his control of a shared vehicle fully suppressed”, huh? Does alt!Callie only mean the narrative, or maybe Rose too with whatever weird bullshit he did to her?

Uh, “while the seer both diminishes and ascends”??? D:

--Oh, oh shit. He was planning to NARRATIVE CONTROL Jake into going along with things. D: D:

Yeah, Jake would want to bang all the aliens, really.

Sendificator rifle, or something like that. Got it.

==>

How fucking long is this epilogue, anyway????? I mean, the length is appropriate from an objective point of view, I’m just frustrated because I’m going to have to spend every waking hour liveblog-reading it until I’ve reached the end or I’m likely to fucking explode, and I didn’t want this to be my entire day/weekend/existence again AAGH HOMESTUCK YOU BLACK HOLE

anyway yaay karkat in a suit.

Alluding to assassination attempts? What, is that red rifle going to try and fulfill that old “through the silver screen and straight into my heart” unused foreshadowing-herring from act six, or five, or whenever it was? Five, I believe.

Pff, super pacs, yeah. Dave’s nearly as political as me now or something. Except he actually acts on it here instead of just sitting around talking about it and thinking he’s right all the time, like me.

Wait, JANE ACTUALLY WENT THROUGH with smearing Jake??!??? Holy shit she’s lost touch.

KARKAT: SWEET BRO AND HELLA JEFF IS ABSOLUTELY HORRENDOUS SUBJECT MATTER FOR PRODUCING CAMPAIGN ADS! KARKAT: NOBODY KNOWS WHAT THE FUCK YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT, OR WHAT POINTS YOU’RE TRYING TO MAKE! DAVE: yeah its awesome

Pfffff.

...yeah, Jake isn’t thinking of ANYTHING except Dirk right now, really.

Oh huh, Dirk HAS been as controlling of Jake as he used to be, now that alt!Callie’s pointing it out. Just with an even more insidious mechanism.

Oh cool, Karkat’s version of the policy pitch! :D :D :D Can’t wait can’t wait reading

(dont lie karkat you totally know shes hot)

Pff, stop making it seem obvious that Dirk wanted to assassinate Jake for political purposes. Heck, even if that WAS his plan it’d just be a temporary death that he’d resurrect from and then they’d try to turn it into... what, some media spin on how Karkat might have been responsible? Or a troll?? That latter part would make things MUCH more xenophobic. I’m starting to get seriously into the politics of this.

==>

Pff, now ‘rezi’s eating tobacco.

...okay, is Terezi REALLY going to go for a real conversation with just an honest ask for one? I don’t think so--

--aaand there she goes laughing, as expected. At least at first.

Yep, Terezi’s wearing the shoes. Nice date gift.

--And yep, Terezi remembers all that. She managed to do the nigh-metatextual mind merge with her other selves WITHOUT even needing God-Tier.

Yeah, Vriska always seemed fit to abandon the kismesis you deserved when it suited her, ‘rezi. :(

JOHN: even worse, i might have tried to fix things MYSELF! TEREZI: OH D34R GOD JOHN: yeah!!!

Yeah I cackled out loud at that.

TEREZI: 34RTH C 1S P3RF3CT 1SNT 1T? TEREZI: BUT NOT FOR YOU TEREZI: YOU DONT *F33L* 1T

john swallows a thick breath. he reminds himself that he never wanted perfection, never asked for it. and yet he feels guilty every day for failing to enjoy it as much as he believes he was supposed to.

Holy shit. John’s survivor’s guilt from all the doomed timelines he witnessed and escaped is keeping him from feeling their victory has been real, and making his “squandering” of it gut his self-esteem too. God damnit.

Roxy and John wouldn’t have worked out????? Hey Terezi, quit it! >:[ That’s not fair, just very plausibly and authoritatively dismissing a ship we’d hoped for offscreen like-- Oh, shit, she’s alluding to something that happened in the Candy side I haven’t read isn’t she. She would DEFINITELY have an idea of what happened on the other side of that Choice Split with her hero role. Fuck what am I in for

....pfff, that Callie vs Dirk bit. It’s like revenge against Doc Scratch, which it kind of IS, really.

I didn’t expect this much time to be spent dwelling on really intimate John/Terezi scenes. It’s really refreshing! Making this kind of meaningful no matter whether it’s black or inexplicably red they end up with or whatever, and equally meaningful if they don’t end up in any sort of relationship at all, really.

even without the aid of a juju, he is fortunate enough to be blessed with the only true form of divinity. to be released from the prison of nonsensical inhibitions which so often psychologically hobble the more primitive forms of life.

Alt!Callie, are you causing this? I thought you wanted to be impartial.

Okay, THAT finally brought things suitably closer to the black side of romance like I would have expected.

==>

their finger hovers over dirks number for a moment, but... no. that would not be a good idea. they don’t know why they suddenly think it’s a bad idea. it just is.

Okay, THAT shred of influence is fair. You DID say you were going to countermand his influence, so yeah.

Good excuse to get narration of her thoughts, if flimsy. :)

Lord save me from this fake woke nightmare.

Pfffff. Fuck you, Dirk. ;)

ROXY: guess ill just open the damn curtains and let some light in here

FUCK you’re going to kill JADE aren’t you???? You’re giving Jade a TEMPORARY DEATH just to deny alt!Callie’s proxy?!?? That’s fucking insidious! Fuck you, Dirk!!! That one wasn’t a loveable joke this time, that was an ACTUAL fuck you. This epilogue is really good at making him out to be the villain now that his powers have expanded to the narrative.

Reading reading reading...

...Huh. Is Roxy talking about coming out as non-binary and getting advice on it? Hm!

Alright, and she’s defs a little gay for Callie from what she’s saying if it wasn’t clear before. If “gay” even has any relevance when you’re talking about a pair of non-binary... yeah whatever. :)

Alright, time to hear Dave talk about it all some more I guess.

--Yep, he’s only mostly gay. Called it. There’s a whole spectrum.

...and yeah, I mean... why NOT let it go beyond quadrants with Karkat and never slap an official label on it? You’re just two people who love each other and want to spend time together in any capacity, be it positive or negative. It doesn’t have to result in anything formal unless you want it to, much less boning down or something. Dirk, stop getting creepy with how hard you’re shipping them, that’s the fanbase’s job.

Jade and Roxy are visible from this location, right? Wasn’t it mentioned that they live in a tower in Carapaceville or whatever? Has Dirk successfully conned alt!Callie into having her vessel shot through? Probably.

the ongoing corruption of his cerebrally impaired daughter.

Eewwwwweweewww

Anyway yeah here comes the plot twist or whatever...

Yeah, Callie gets it wrong, and--

......ah, a tranq? That makes more sense and is more than slightly less evil, if still ultimately evil given his eventual presumed goals or whatever.

DIRK: Like the bitch she is.

FUCK YOU

Oh, Jade’s going to be asleep for the rest of the story? AGAIN?!???? FUCK YOU SO MUCH, DIRK.

Jesus christ. How long is this epilogue anyway.

Taken your leave? From this planet??? What the fuck, are you--

Oh. Oh shit.

When Dirk ascended into absorbing the memories of all his various split selves, did he get a heaping helping of DOC SCRATCH in there too??? Was Doc Scratch’s ambition actually for POST-victory ascension in this very manner? FUCK. Either way, him sharing some of those memories puts a pretty unique spin on his descent into goddamn evil, here.

Reading on... oh shit, did Callie write the candy half??

==>

Huh, postcoital; we actually went there. Cool.

Ah, she gives up on Vriska? Better find Vriska really fast, then.

Oh, you’re really going? Or, trying, anyway.

==>

Really committed to this whole ascending to literal godhood schtick, aren’t you, Dirk?

(Hm. Makes me almost think that this situation with Rose is going to end up with someone splitting her essence entirely in two to save her; her raw Seer-ness getting forced into a convenient vessel (cueball, wonk wonk) and herself returning to consciousness a slight bit more mortal than she was before, ie not going completely insane. Hmm.)

Oh, “Vast Fuck” sorta-maybe-confirmed..??

Stop tacitly insulting Jake as you puppet him, Dirk. He’s a dumbass but not THAT much of a dumbass.

beta-bitch

FUCK YOU, DIRK.

She loves you, Jake, more than anything, and you toyed with her heart.

Fuuuuuuck you.

could subsume your entire personality

Shit, he IS trying to pretty much consume them all. Swallow their individuality and take total control of all their actions. All Prince of Heart on the whole world. Dirk you need to fucking DIE.

And to love Dirk is to obey him.

There isn’t a Fuck You large or loud enough to what I feel about the mental violation Dirk is inflicting on Jake right now, and everyone else around him, and I sincerely and selfishly hope this epilogue is almost over because I don’t want too many pages to stand between this one and seeing Dirk fucking PAY.

Jake opens his big, dumb mouth to make the only important contribution to the plot he ever has or ever will make in his whole sad, pointless joke of a life.

FUUUUUUUUUUUUCK YOU

Let’s hope that in your hubris your looking away managed to let him say something different or some such.

==>

You try to remember if you’ve ever been revived by Jane before. You honestly can’t recall. So much shit has happened. Maybe?

Yeah, I don’t recall either really.

The poison needling through you is antithetical to narrative relevance. You’re not dying, John. You’re being erased. Cherubs don’t fuck around. We’ve both been learning that the hard way.

Okay, fuck? How the hell? Is this just because Dirk says it is, or???

I guess it’s tragic, though maybe not in the conventional sense. My view is, the real tragedy with you, John, is that you never mattered all that much.

Yeah, Dirk’s first fucking rant when he took over the narrative officially was about John being a you-insert nobody average guy, and the DISDAIN he shows to everything about who John is is pretty goddamn insulting. He has NO concept of how John managed to bring everyone together or... UGH!

even though you knew both then and now that it was the only choice you possibly could have made.

Dammit, so it probably WASN’T a full timeline-bisecting Mind split. Just a side branch that wasn’t as likely, because just like with his Denizen, John’s will was tilted toward this part of the choice. D:

I see how some of this seems to be going, or at least think I do... Dirk thinks that John needs to die heroically “for the good of the story”, and something’s potentially going to come in and say “no”? That the whole reason they WON was to essentially be free of that cruel logic once and for all, and that Dirk is gonna get one hell of a smackdown for trying futilely to enforce it in their new post-victory domain??

She listens to him bleed while she smells him die.

--That, and fulfilling bits of foreshadowing for shits and giggles. >:(

Huh, “friable”, didn’t even know that was a word. Just looked it up; you learn something new every day.

Okay what is Dirk planning with the fucking body.

==>

Jane swept the election, of course. I told you I was going to win. After Jake’s incoherent and scandalous heel-turn at Karkat’s ill-fated rally, no amount of esoteric, three-dimensional jpeg artefacts could have salvaged the Vantas campaign.

Ah, but is that what REALLY happened, or what you’re saying happened, about to be overwritten?

Mainly that their BFF Jade has been in a coma for an entire month. They’ve been in and out of the hospital handling her affairs. Her next of kin is listed as John Egbert, and no one’s seen him in ages. It’s like he just disappeared suddenly. Like some great hand came out of the sky and crossed his name off the big list of guys we ever need to give a shit about anymore.

F U C K Y O U

Roxy, after all, and since her big heart-to-heart about the personal politics of queer onion metaphors, and ten stages of galaxy-braining through the many vicissitudes of the phrase “no homo,” Roxy has decided to really step up her gender experimentation. I guess at this point she’s gone beyond Stage Ten. Which I imagine is somewhat like reaching Super Saiyan 2 of gender, and then going even further beyond.

Holy crap, she’s going full Dave Lalonde. That’s pretty sweet.

...Isn’t Terezi like obviously covered in blood and stuff?

ROXY: they stay home all day with the blinds drawn paintin some weird ass shit on the walls

Oh my fucking GOD real!Callie please save the plot. Nuke this self-indulgent Dirkshit.

ROXY: like lotsa nasty purple blood and um ROXY: nudity???? TEREZI: >:? ROXY: yeah yikes ROXY: but MOST of it is cute stuff like... various combos of all of us being happy and gettin married and shit ROXY: anyway thats kept callie kinda busy

...This is an allusion to the Candy side I haven’t read, isn’t it? Maybe THAT’s part of what she supplants this bullshit with. Or since it mentions “various combinations”, she’s restoring the possibility to everything that the ending was supposed to have?

This is potentially a real fucking indictment of the idea of a narrative-driven ending when what actually mattered was the characters’ escape from said narrative. :)

ROXY: its like theyre traumatized ROXY: and they think ill drag whatever possessed jade back into our home with me

Okay fuck maybe Callie ISN’T helping. Maybe she’s just so worried about the alternate history she could have lead that she’s retreating into every Candy-like fanfic she can think of. :(

What’s with the phone buzz? The intervention we’ve been hoping for, since Dirk’s making her ignore it?

Oh cool, figures Terezi’s been hearing the narrative all along and just politely not acknowledging the fact that she hears it! Maybe SHE’LL help unfuck this mess. (And according to her, Roxy’s gone full “him” too!)

Fuck fuck fuck Terezi don’t listen to him go against his bullshit instead

Where, canon? Is that where you’re planning to escape back to or some such, with yourself as the author? Is that orange Andrew actually you or some BS?

Dammit.

==>

FUCK, “new body”????

The new body I’ve made for her won’t have much use for her usual ensembles. That’s all I was saying.

FUCK FUCK FUCK it IS the cueball isn’t it. Holy shit. That’s even worse than a robot. FZUCZK

Okay calm down. The Rose part of Rose can be cut away and rescued from this fate somehow, if she isn’t just whole-hog rescued entirely which would also be good. FUCK DIRK

...look purple? What?

DIRK: What’s happening here is the best thing for everybody.

Yeah, go fuck yourself. This shit had better be undone soon.

To finally face the truth. If Rose has been spending more time with me than you, if she’s realizing she resonates more with me due to our natural similarities and finds my presence more rewarding than yours, then what does that say about YOU, Kanaya?

PFFFF. YOU’RE GONNA BREAK UP THE PAIRING JUST SO YOU CAN STEAL HER? HAHAHAHAHAHA NO.

Okay, after THAT page’s last bit of horrid manipulation, this can’t end in any way that doesn’t involve ages of existential and literal torment for Dirk, forever.

==>

Epilogue Seven, huh. One last thing he wants to take care of before getting out of dodge, huh. I see Karkat and Dave’s text colors on screen. Is he going to try to force them to finally bone down or confess? This would be the perfect place for his plan to get fucking stopped.

Homestuck, stop making my fucking stomach clench so hard.

That’s a hell of a disaster Dirk thought up for these guys on that stage.

Part of this whole shitshow might be to tell us that this ending, this “fanfic” of dubious authenticity of an epilogue that Dirk is giving us is how DIRK believes it would end best for everyone involved, but not how everyone else would, ignoring their wills... while also discarding the idea of the epilogue that any individual reader of Homestuck would want in favor of the possibilities he meant to leave open with the ending.

Alright, here comes Dirk NOT forcing them to bone down but rather trying to persuade-brainwash them into a relationship talk.

DAVE: so what youre saying is you believe in me who believes in you

Dave. Please.

Hey, the Gurren Lagaan reference went WAY too long unsaid. Even if Andrew literally didn’t know a thing about said anime when he made the character designs.

I look Dave right in his mind’s eye and tell him to cut it the fuck out. He wants it, you want it, so just go for it, my man. It’s now or never.

DAVE: oh DAVE: same

I feel every brain cell in my immortal body begin to perish in real time.

BAAHAHAHAAHHhahahha FUCK YOU Dirk.

I mean, I want Dave and Karkat together as much as the next guy but FUUUUUUUCK YOU DIRK!!! I want everything you ever wanted to go wrong and shit on you. Their equivocating soft-nearly-mance is strong enough to go even against you, who thinks yourself the narrative fucking Sun.

Oh this is fantastic

I’ve literally been decapitated and that was less unbearable than this.

YES KEEP FALLING APART

You see that twinkle? That’s devotion, you unbelievably dense neutron star of a dumbshit.

Nice callback to... what was it, Dave’s first rant at Tavros to troll him back or whatever?

radially effervescing kaleidoscope of more hot boy peckers than you could ever imagine.

Yep, DEFINITELY a callback to that. I’ll never forget the sick flow of that metaphor.

DAVE: i just keep having thoughts i know id never think

SAVE US DAVE

Dammit, near miss.

The privilege of a Strider Eye Moment is about the most earth-shattering experience a young man will ever have in his life.

Pfff

DAVE: GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HEAD AND JUST LET ME DO THIS MYSELF!!!

yaaaaaayyy

I mean we didn’t save the whole story yet but at least Dirk got fucked over and we still get Davekat intimacy.

That’s pretty classy actually, not getting into detail and just sounding blown the fuck away by it even though he’s Dirk. That’s pretty good.

==>

Something about the height of Rose, roughly Rose-shaped, and wrapped in a cloth. I know she’s gonna love it the first time she sees it.

Oh so it IS a robot body. Well, fuck you a little less than it potentially being the magic cueball, but STILL fuck you.

I may have already mentioned, but I’m a bit too deft at this for my own good. Doing the thing where I tug at the part of someone’s latent thought process that already knows they adore me. That if someone would just pull the stops from their sense of inhibition, they’d realize they would do anything for me.

It’s called killing their soul with your role abilities you ASSHOLE

I hope this crush you filled him with bites you in the fucking ass now that he’s here.

DIRK: I won’t be coming back, Jake.

Oh, so you’re just going to drop the truth on him like that? Let’s see how that works out for you, asshole.

DIRK: Jane needs you now more than ever.

Oh fuck you. This is “best for everyone”, huh?????

DIRK: You’ll just be, you know. DIRK: Her candy boy? JAKE: CANDY BOY??? DIRK: Yeah. Being on call. DIRK: Serving a multimillion-year term of giving her the right kind of “presidential action” she needs to keep going. To keep her morale up and such. DIRK: To provide her with many heirs. DIRK: Doesn’t that sound cool? JAKE: HEIRS??

Um. What the fuck? Is this even Dirk anymore? It’s not Condesce intervention, I’m not going to try and suspect that just from the callback or anythiiiii-----

Fuck, we DID just get an alive Meenah dropped into a universe somewhere.

Maybe this IS Condesce intervention. Just a different Condesce. o_O

Two ticks longer than he ever deserved.

Gah???

DIRK: But I’ll never let you break my heart again.

So this was all just revenge for dumping him??????????????

==>

Guh, back to Kanaya-- wait, why does Dirk want Terezi around, anyway?

Jade wakes up and then-- Okay. Okay my eyes flitted down to the green halfway down the page and I saw this phrase before I actually got to it.

JADE: DIRK STRIDER HAS TO BE STOPPED!!!!!!!!!!

Thank FUCK.

Anyway reading the in-between...

The scope of her awareness, she now understands, is truly staggering. Memories are suddenly accessible that are almost impossible to believe. Some of them are unspeakably marvelous to her. Others, deeply disturbing.

FUCKING COOL she got Ultimate-Selved! Now she knows too much about what’s going on to stop her! Get fucked, Dirk!!!!

No, more than just disturbing. She lingers in the dark recesses of her consciousness. There were things she saw, things she was told... Her mouth twists into a silent snarl. She’s been angry plenty of times before. But never so angry that she stopped being cute. She’s not cute this time.

YEAAAAAHHH JADE GET ANGRY

This had better not be Dirk intentionally riling her up since he still has control of the narrative though.

Next post.

#Homestuck #Homestuck Epilogue #upd8 #Homestuck Liveblog #bladekindeyewear #BlastYoBoots

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komatsunana · 5 years

Text

Chronicles of Exandria: The Legend of Vox Machina II

I did this for the first volume, so I bought this artbook right away just to do it again. <3 My Winter’s Crest gift to all the critters.

The art. Once again I cannot overstate the stunning artwork of the critter community. I know some fans balk at the price, but all the artists are paid to have their art in the book - and I think the big price tag is well worth artist getting some compensation for their work (do correct me if I’m wrong). I won’t be sharing any photos of of the art, but most of it is available online already.

However, I will share this photo of the print on the box the book came in:

Excerpt of the Foreward:

“The memories in this book are real. They were created with love and laughter around a table with friends, and let loose on the wind to find what ears would listen. The joys and pains of every winding turn still occupy our minds daily and if you are reading this, I suspect they live on in yours as well. We were there. We witnessed it unfold.”

Vox Machina was only able to scry on Scanlan once, as seen in the episode Jugs and Rods, but some time after Scanlan warded himself against arcane sight.

The Mantle of the Tempest is described as “eternal autumn leaves.”

Keyleth goes on to rule with wisdom and grace.

Usually the Cobalt Soul has problems researching historical figures for whom there is little written word about...... With Taryon they had the opposite problem: there was too much! lmao. And 90% of it is believed to be embellished or flat out lies.

Nicknames that Taryon gave himself and were never used by anyone ever: “The Winsome Winner of Wildemount,” “Talented Tary,” “Golden-Maned Guardian of Good,” and “The Vindicator.”

Uvenda, the gnome in Vesrah, is still alive!! She’s stepped down as leader now and is the tale-teller of Vesrah.

The Ashari call the kraken that VM fought for Keyleth’s Aremente “Ulugrah the Requisite.”

Uvenda claims that Ulugrah, upon learning that the creatures it had trounced were legendary heroes (I’m assuming they mean Vox Machina), it boasts about it’s victory against them to anyone who will listen any who come to its lair in the Plane of Water.

Tova went by different epithets including: “The Bear,” “Little Half-Ear,” “The Bloody-Handed,” and “The Skin Changer.” After surviving the Hells thanks to Vax’s ring of invisibility, she gained the name “The Unseen Death.” Little else can be verified about Tova, but none of her friends she went to with Dis survived.

Grey Hunt Lore

Lord Wolf de Rolo and Lady Melanie van Musel de Rolo were the leaders of the 4th reign of Whitestone. It was a political marriage and Melanie was particularly unhappy. She had a garden filled with flora and fauna from her home in Wildemont. The garden is now known as the Widow’s Garden and many of the plants were poisons that she used to slowly assassinate Lord Wolf with.

After being injured in the Great Whitestone Fire, he couldn’t recover because of the poison and he died leaving Melanie the ruler. She decided to redraw the lines of the city walls, pushing into the Parchwood Timberlands which didn’t go well. Construction was plagued by accidents, animal attacks, and phantoms were reported (such as of Lord Wolf) - though the construction of a Temple of the Dawnfather went unhindered.

Lady Melanie’s cousin was Ivan van Musel, a cleric, and he declared that Melanie had pissed off the Dawnfather by expanding without showing reverence. Ivan went into the forest after much mediation and was later found battered but alive atop a felled Direwolf. Ivan had a vision in which the Lawbearer agreed to the expansion no further than where Ivan had felled the Direwolf and that from here on, a citizen of Whitestone must venture into the Parchwood when called to do so and be tested.

Melanie created the title Grand Master of the Grey Hunt, the third ruling house of Whitestone, for Ivan. The third house has since forth been in change of the Grey Hunt and managing the city’s relationship with the world beyond the city walls.

Hundreds of gold in property damage during Vox Machina’s stay at Dalen’s Closet while VM “relentlessly pranked” each other.

Whitestone became a thriving metropolis during VM’s year off - in part because of Allura keeping it safe during Thordak’s reign while everywhere else was ravaged.

K’yrrn - the dark elf that kidnapped Taryon - is from Xhorhas!

Though Tary could be called a fool, a braggart, a coward... in the moment he stood against his father’s selfishness and bigotry and forgave and reconciled with him is described as being more valiant than slaying.

Lionel Gayheart had “an unusual case of amnesia.”

JB Trickfoot continued to work in Whitestone’s library and it’s thanks to many of her notes that the Cobalt Soul has as much as they do on Vox Machina.

“Uh, yes, the very first thing I remember about meeting Vox Machina was when the red-haired lady jumped off a mountain. It was grisly. But what I’ll remember forever is what happened afterward. The coin that Lady Vex’ahlia used, the glow of light, the power. It brought her back to life. They really were like gods.”

Taryon’s autobiography’s dedication: “This book is dedicated to Lawrence. But it is for my family.”

Taryon thinks his father was actually proud of Tary’s Darrington Brigade.

Tary never liked his father, but after returning home Tary began to love him.

Mariya, Tary’s mom, was part of the Brigade and took care of the injured warriors.

Maryanne, Tary’s sister, became the driving force behind the Darrington Fund charity and even gave up her home for those less fortunate than herself. When she called Tary “brother” it was no longer an insult.

Tary is most proud that his mother finally has a united family, one to be proud of.

Kaylie Shorthalt talks a bit about Lionel - says he was a goofy son of a bitch. He kept talking to her about ducks though. He once tried to show her his house, but he just took her to an oasis in the middle of desert that was full of ducks.

The Cobalt Soul doesn’t like to spread rumors but they do have theories of Lionel’s Marquesian mallard heritage.

Aes Adan, aka the Meat Man, rise to power coincided with the disappearance of several low to mid level criminals.

A scholar once went to visit Scanlan to interview him to see if the rumors were true that Scanlan had been the Meat Man. The Scribe returned, unable to remember anything from his visit. In his notebook were only crude drawings of ducks. Scanlan still using that Modify Memory...

The fucking Cobalt Soul knows that Scanlan sacrificed the 9th level spell he was saving for Vax to stop Vecna from leaving. It’s history folks.

For the folks out there who love the Briarwoods’ love for each other, some of an excerpt of Delilah’s journal: “No matter the cost, my love, I will do it. I care not how many must die, or how grave the sins must be that I commit. I broke the world once for you, Sylas. I shall do it again, and again, and again, for you. For us. Forever.”

Vecna envied the Raven Queen, as her followers did so not just because they feared her, but because they loved and respected her too.

Vecna threatened the assembled protectors of Vasselheim, saying that it would be the perfect place for ambush, but that’s no fun when there are many less-protected loved ones. People he threatened include Earthbreaker Groon’s daughter (Desir), Vord’s family, J’mon’s concubines, all of Whitestone and particularly Cassandra. And Young Velora Vessar, “playing alone in her room.”

The Everlight: Redeemer of All

“Comprehension is the only true measure of dominion.”

Pelor, The Dawnfather: The Primordial Light

“Faith is defined by the darkness we have not conquered.”

Ethrid Brokenbranch AKA Sprigg the Obnoxious gets his own book of history by the Cobalt Soul. Autobiographical writings were found in the wreckage of his house

The Goddess Ioun: Our Knowing Mistress

“Comprehension is the only true measure of dominion.” (This is the same quote as for the Everlight - idk which one is the error.)

The Raven Queen: The Matron of Ravens

“By my grace, all are rendered equal.”

It is forbidden to study Arkhan the Cruel.

Vox Machina lived out the rest of their days in relative happiness and peace.

Percy’s magnum opus is the Clock Tower of Whitestone - a national treasure of Tal’Dorei.

Vex continued to rule as Baroness for a time after Percy’s passing. Vex saw her bother’s spirit after the birth of her first child. She reconciled somewhat with her father and showered Velora with love and blessings.

Kaylie went to school at the Alabaster Lyceum in Emon on Scanlan’s dime.

Pike and Scanlan had a lengthy courtship.

Tary’s book The Daring Trials and Tribulations of Ser Taryon Darrington contained an accurate account of his time with Vox Machina, even if nothing else is accurate.

Grog helped Earthbreaker Groon restore the Temple to the Stormlord while staying Vasselheim, defending his title in the Crucible.

The final, actual words of the book that aren’t a dedication or part of an image: “And as the story is told: ‘Everyday that raven comes to visit.’” ;’(

There is a stunning four page fold-out page of Percy’s clock tower. I cannot emphasize enough how lovely it is. The end of it dedicates it to Vex and is quoted with, “I couldn’t have asked for a better dream.”

On the other side of the fold-out are some... sketches of Percy’s notes? It seems that Diplomacy is now powered up by Cabal’s Ruin.

As part of “Cobalt Souls” thank you page: “Within a book, a story can only sleep. It requires a reader to give it life.”

#critical role #cr art book #vox machina #the legend of vox machina #the legend of vox machina ii #the chronicles of exandria #cr #critical role: vox machina campaign #cr spoilers #critical role spoilers #i scream #my crit role feels

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thelowlysatsuma · 5 years

Note

Ramble in whatever form you choose. I won’t be able to be active all the time so if you want to be able to do it whenever you want I’d say text posts but I’ll also try to occasionally ask you about them so there’s some variety

!!! okay! well i think i’ll choose a couple from the list that i haven’t made many posts about before (aka no ts or go) and ramble on here!

oof under the cut bc idk how long this will get

steven universe

oh hon don’t even get me STARTED on su like that shit? that shit is so good? okay first of all i love the cast so much? gosh they’re just all so sweet and cool and sometimes they collab w/ thomas sanders and i love rebecca sugar and im gonna cry they’re so sweet im so soft

okay SECONDLY the show itself oof

okay okay im just? god im so soft?? like the music is so good, i can (and do) watch it w/ my parents, GOD do i wanna cosplay pearl’s new outfit (and rainbow 2.0, if i can pull it off), im in love with the concept and all the fusions and the story and the worldbuilding and god, this made me realize my utter love and adoration of COLOURS like they’re so PRETTY im in LOVE oh my gOD and just

god it has such a good message and such a good plot and such good characters i wanna be steven’s friend i wanna be all of their friends oh man i just can’t wait until my baby cousins are old enough for me to show this to them because i’m going to enjoy that experience so much

ducktales

oh jfc where the fuck do i even start with ducktales okay david tennant as scrooge mcduck makes my fucking life literally he’sthe best goddamn charaacter in the show – well, best besides the triplets (my BOYS), webby (!!! my KID), f e n t o n (god i love that nerd), mark beaks (what an asshole), mrs beakley (i wanna be her when i grow up), launchpad (!!! he!!), and so many others??? this is like serious every character in the show erasure but hot damn duck tales says gay rights and it does so in style (oh yeah also i love lena della donald oh webby’s new friend whose name i forget uhhh herules oh the inventor guy fenton’s boss that dipshit love him uhhh gandra dee who’s voiced by jameela jamil if im not mistaken??????) and yeah it’s a hilarious show but it’s also just a really good one for me to watch whenever i start to like. feel empty inside?? but then like i’ll put on ducktales and i’ll feel better

gravity falls

this show. this show RUINED ME. i started watching it like four years late (aka last year lmao) but GOD, im so in love with it. def another one i wanna show my cousins.

like?? just??? the ciphers and mysteries appeal so much to me and my love of mystery and crime novels, the characters are all amazing, alex hirsch himself is just such a g?? and like. it’s so good. it hurts me so much but then it’s all okay in the end and it’s just. it’s so good.

yeah i sobbed my eyes out when i watched that series finale.

camp camp, which somehow i forgot on my other list

god, is this show hilarious. like, fuck is it funny. it’s so good. it’s so fucking good. i was a little shocked when i saw the first episode but i’m so into it now, and i’m so attatched to all the characters bc they’re just dumbasses trying their best (or worst, in a few cases) and i love them for it. that’s peak fool energy right there and it speaks to me

orphan black

okay okay okay veering now into a much darker type of television, orphan black is??? phenominal???

okay so my best friend @fuck-me-gently-with-a-slurpee got me into it when i was like 14 or 15 i think and i honestly cannot thank her enough because this show is incredible. the plot’s super engaging, i literally cannot say anything about it without giving away spoilers, and the main character has quite possibly the best actor i’ve ever seen playing her

like. you think thomas sanders is good? he ain’t got SHIT on tatianna maslany

mythbusters

you guys. you guys. mythbusters was my childhood. like seriously, i watched that show religiously.

it’s what first got me into science, and it’s what kept me interested in explosions. it’s light and funny and ridiculous and scientifically accurate in the dumbest ways possible. i swear to god the main cast nearly dies once an episode

these guys are my idols. like, i seriously cannot overstate how much i love the mythbusters. adam and jamie, tori, kari, and grant.

when i was a kid, i wanted to be a mythbuster when i grew up, and god damnit, i still do. they mean that much to me

bill nye

fun fact! i actually had no fuckin clue who bill nye was until seventh grade, when i had to watch an episode of his show for homework because i missed a day of class. it was the episode on static electricity, and i remember sitting at my dining room table in the dim winter afternoon light, squinting at my computer, and thinking “what the FUCK am i WATCHING?”

needless to say, i’ve seen more since then, but that initial what the fuckery is still present and i love it.

not only is bill nye the science guy a flippin fantstic show, but bill nye himself? the coolest guy alive. god, i love him. what a g.

various comedians including but not limited to john mulaney,john oliver, and hasan minhaj

okay, as a gay, i am legally required to love john mulaney, but seriously that guy is so. fuckin. funny that i can’t help myself. his timing is priceless, the way he moves onstage is hysterical, just. god i love his stuff.

literally his comedic timing and style is half the reason people find me funny. i just phrase my sentences the way he would because, you know, i’m good at stealing things, and people laugh, and i go “hey. that actually worked”. and then i keep doing it

next, john oliver. okay, so while i don’t watch his show religiously, i do watch it when my parents do every now and again, and fuck is his stuff funny. like. just. shit.

finally, hasan minhaj’s patriot act is just. one of my favourite current events comedy shows out there. it’s in a similar vein to john oliver’s stuff, just more international, and shit, is he good at what he does. i lvoe it.

hoodwinked the movie (i am dead serious)

okay, while i haven’t seen it in over four years, this is still my favourite movie of all time. it also has one of my favourite villain songs of all times, and some of the best character exchanges just. ever. especially with wolf and twitchy

...god, i love twitchy. also the goat. i’m probably gonna be the goat when i grow up, let’s be honest

one day at a time

i just.

there’s so much to say about odaat. like. it’s so funny. it makes me nearly cry every episode (and makes my mother actually cry every episode). the characters, god, the characters

like. alex is such a cute dumb kid (who’s smarter than he looks), penelope is so salty constantly and i love her but she’s genuinely so cool and such a good mom and i cry??? elena is so amazing like god she’s such a fuckin nerd but she’s also so salty (takes after her mom) and is literally the best????

and then there’s abuelita, whom i adore. like, god, rita moreno is SO cool and SUCH a great actress and has SUCH an amazing sense of comedic timing and GOD, i LOVE HER

can’t forget about syd and doc berkowitz, which like. okay first off the good doc. just. god i love the doc. he’s so sweet and such a genuinely good dude and he’s a bit of a coward at heart but that’s okay because he genuinely cares and does his best and god he’s just such an amazing character im !!!!! and then syd is such a dork and i love them and elena and god, it made me so happy to see not only an actual enby character on a big sitcom, but also just?? like??? it’s not forced but it’s still there??? like there’s one episode where one of the plots is just syd and elena trying to figure out what elena should call them, since neither of them are comfy using “girlfriend” for syd since they’re not a girl, and they finally agree on “significant other” and schneider imMEDIATELY says “dont you mean, SYDnificant other?” and then they use that for the REST OF THE SHOW IT”S SO CUTE OKAY

and finally, schneider. he might be my favourite character in the entire show (which is a damn hard list to pick from!!!), but he’s just. he’s so sweet, he and penelope have one of the absolute best male/female friendships i’ve ever seen (which! never! turns! romantic! ever!!!), he’s actually got surprising depths but he’s also like such a nice goofball that when they get revealed, it hurts, and he’s just this canadian dumbass (heyyyyy repreSENT) with the worst goddamn canadian accent sometimes and he’s a hipster and The Dumb Friend and the weird uncle all rolled into one and GOD, i love him so much

the good place and brooklyn 99

okay, i love these two both so, so much, but i’m lumping them together because a) they’re both mike schur shows with a similar sense of humour, that say gay rights, and with characters who’d definitely love each other if they met and b) my hand is getting tired from all this typing but i still have so much love to go around!!!!

okay so so SO! they’re both so good. they’re so fucking funny and amazing and i was immediately hooked on both of their pilots. their characters are all so genuine and flawed and fucking hysterical to watch, and the ships and friendships are all so amazing and pure and good and soft and they have their problems and they WORK THEM OUT HEALTHILY AND IT MAKES ME SO HAPPY OKAY!!!

god, i literally cannot overstate how much i adore these two shows. mike schur, you’re a wonderful, wonderful dude. thank you so much

many musicals (top faves include BOM, hamilton, legally blonde, chicago, matilda, and more!)

i’m putting the musicals together because while i do adore each and every one of them individually, i also just have great big deep-seated love of the art of musical theatre itself in general, ya feel?

like, as someone who’s been both performing and viewing them from a very young age, the sheer sense of utter joy they bring is almost unparalleled

not to be That Bitch who quotes musicals, but “and that hop in our hearts as the overture starts lets us know how lucky we are” might be the closest i’ve ever gotten to finding words to fit the feeling when the lights go down and the show begins. it’s simply phenomenal

the others series by anne bishop

okay, OKAY, if you haven’t read this series (first book called written in red – they have terrible titles but god, they’re worth it), then what are you doing with your life? like, not only is there the perfect logicality au to them (just sayin’), but god, it’s such an incredible series

the worldbbuilding is so cool and the characters are all great and god the ships are the damn hill i die on it’s got literally such a good “sort of enemies mostly just dislike each other to reluctant acquaintances to friends to lovers” ship and it deals with some serious issues rlly well and it’s got baby puppies!!!

like, they’re wolf puppies, but still, they are b a b e y

and finally (for now, at least), the mysterious benedict society, by trenton lee stewart

this book series was my childhood. i mean, there are so many other books i could be talking about right now that i utterly adore (the artemis fowl series springs to mind), but gosh, MBS just brings me such absolute joy to read that i just had to have it on here.

i’m not thinking straight at this point in the evening, but i just wanna say that i will never, not ever forget about reynie. about kate. about sticky. about constance. about rhonda and number two and milligan and miss perumal and my absolute son sq pedalian and, of course, i will never, never forget about mr benedict

it’s bright, and it’s bittersweet, and it’s beautiful.

and it’s good. simply, utterly, wonderfully good.

thank you for the ask, anon.

thank you.

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tcswritings · 5 years

Text

Messages. (WIP/unpolished)

:: updated on 07/18/2019 ::

The day after the party. Orla is thinking many thoughts.

*****

It had been a bit more than six hours since he left and when she closed her eyes, she could still feel his hands on her body as well as his unsteady breath against the skin of her neck and how strands of blonde hair had tickled her face every now and then.

What truly made her stomach flutter though was thinking back to all the brief moments when his eyes had met hers, when they shared sweet looks, to make sure the other one was feeling just fine, comfy and secure.

Biting her lip, she couldn’t help but smile to herself for the dozenth time that afternoon. Sleeping with someone wasn’t new to Orla and while she wouldn’t call herself an expert in the field, she had more than a basic idea of how these things worked and how to make them enjoyable for both parts. Last night, however, she had found out that sleeping with a friend was in no way comparable to anything she had experienced before and she also had to realise that the things she knew weren’t exactly helpful in that matter - she had felt like a clueless, giggling idiot anyway.

It hasn’t been bad, though, not at all. Quite the opposite, actually, but Orla couldn’t stop asking herself if people writing books and movies about friends falling in love had ever fallen in love with a friend themselves - there were usually big talks about how knowing each other inside out makes these things oh-so-much easier and friends would just switch to being lovers as if it was the most natural and uncomplicated thing ever and Orla couldn’t comprehend it at all. What happened last night was probably the most exciting and amazing moment of her young life so far and nothing made perfect sense just yet - it had all happened so fast after all.

That was not the only thing on her mind, though. There was something else, something far more essential.

She lay flat on her bed and stared at the ceiling and she had been doing that for the entire day, more or less. Ever since Mick had left the house she had been wondering. Wondering if what they did was right, if they should have waited until they had figured out at least SOME details (considering the well-known fact that sex had also great potential to mess things up), if they would do it again, when they would do it again and, most importantly, what they even were now, because if there was one thing certain it was that they had left their strictly platonic friendship behind.

Before he left, Mick had kissed her goodbye and he had also promised that they would meet up tonight but there hadn’t been any sign of life from him ever since and Orla had long started wondering if he had given it a second thought and maybe - she cringed at the mere thought - even changed his mind.

She reached for her phone for the umpteenth time (the last time was about five minutes ago) and unlocked it, only to feel the familiar little sting as she couldn’t spot the highly anticipated red little bubble that alerted her any time she had new messages.

Instead, she got the impression that her messenger merely laughed at her now:

No new message, girl.

Nope.

Not a single one.

Stop waiting.

He doesn’t care.

Just accept it already.

Orla sighed and tried to shake the weird thoughts off as she snuggled into her pillow a little more. She was being silly and she knew it. Those might be legit worries if it was any other guy she had just met the other night but the guy in question was Mick and Mick wasn’t like that. He was always true to his word and as she knew that he had some things to do today - and she knew that way before that unexpected and pleasant turn of events last night - she figured that she would just have to be patient.

How about you just text him, Dummy? her messenger now suggested, probably as a little gesture of reconciliation for sparking her mopey thoughts a minute ago. Or maybe just call him? It’s 2013, gals no longer sit around waiting for a man to make a move, we make shit happen!

Orla pursed her lips as she opened the messenger again. She didn’t even have to scroll; Mick was the first to show up in her chats as they had send each other a few texts at the party last night while they were wandering around apart from each other, trying to find a private spot where it would just be the two of them but they hadn’t been very successful.

She chuckled as she read his last few lines again.

SAT, 03-16-2013

1:17: kitchen again?

1:18: NO DONTCOME hERE someone puked in here

1:19: Im gonna go upstairs

1:25: where are you

1:25: WHERE

1:25: are

1:25: YOU

1:26: thou shalt answer

1:27: Im desperate

1:29: IM LOST 😂

1:30: this house is HUGE

1:30: almost LIKE oUS

1:30: OURS

1:32: oRLAA

‘Adorable’, Orla thought, smiling. They had found each other just a bit after that last message and they had managed to share at least one more passionate kiss before they had to jump apart once more as they got disturbed by a little group of drunk idiots - she couldn’t even remember who - staggering into the room.

She chuckled as she began typing.

Hey handsome 😘 I was just wondering whether we could

She stopped. Too casual. This wasn’t asking for getting a snack during lunch break after all. Orla hit the delete button and pressed her lips into a thin line. ‘Maybe I should google for some reference’, she thought. ‘How to properly address your childhood friend with whom you had sex last night.’

Or, well, maybe not.

I just saw this ad for porch swings and I thought I could get one so we can

God, no.

You like big butts and you cannot lie… 😜

NO! (She could very well imagine the face he would make if he read that one, though.)

If choosing what to wear is what’s taking you so long to get back to me I’m happy to inform you that I fancy the kind of activity which doesn’t require any apparel at all so stop making a damn fuss 👀 💋

Smart. Playful. Sexy.

But no.

Please don’t change your mind about us and come back here, I miss you!

Woah. Needy, much?

“Aaaaah!” Orla cried out in frustration as she tossed her phone to the side, slumping back into the pillows. “This sucks.”

Only a few moments later she had another thought. Couldn’t it be that Mick was going through the very same thing right now? That he was sitting on his bed or his couch, or maybe in his kitchen just in this moment, long legs up on the other chair, chainsmoking, like he did so often when he felt lost, typing some words into his phone every few moments, only to delete them again because nothing he came up with felt appropriate?

Maybe Mick was just dying to hear from her all the time. Maybe he was just as insecure as she was and when she thought back to the party as well as to what happened after it, right here, she suddenly felt very silly for even thinking that he might want to back out. The way he had looked at her as well as his body language had spoken volumes after all.

Orla swiftly reached back for her phone and opened the messenger once more. Sometimes the best way to overcome awkward situations was to be honest and straightforward. Once she was done typing, Orla hit the send button and closed her eyes as she took a deep breath.

*****

“I can very well remember the last words Ethel said to me and they were sure words to live by.”

Terry Irvine, a stocky, balding man in his fifties, made a pause, heavy with meaning, as he looked around the tastefully decorated room, feeling deep satisfaction as he saw that everyone was listening to his words with rapt attention.

“She said ‘Lives are like rivers, Terry:” he went on, “Eventually they go where they must. Not where we want them to.’(*)“

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s what she said.” Connor O’Loughlin scoffed quietly. “A mean old bitch will suddenly start crackin’ wise proverbs after she spent her lifetime just spattering shit at any given occasion.”

Mick bit his lip as he tried not to laugh at his younger cousin’s remark and he wondered whether anyone in his room actually liked ‘Aunt’ Ethel as the few memories he had of her certainly weren’t the best. She had sometimes looked after him when he was still a kid and as far as he could remember, she never allowed him to do anything besides sitting still while reading bible verses together and she also made him eat the worst, greasiest porridge that the world has ever tasted and the mere memory of it made his guts turn.

Friends and family were gathered together today, mourning Ethel’s recent death, but Mick felt rather indifferent about her passing; he was merely here to do his parents a favour who claimed that they had always been particularly fond of the old hag and while that might even be true, he couldn’t help but feel that they also wanted to represent the family business which, considering the estimated average age of the majority of people in the room, was actually a clever stroke.

“... and I’m sure that Ethel is smiling down upon us just now, as she sees all her friends and family joined together in love and harmony, thinking of her and the wonderful things she has done for each and everyone of us...”

Not only was he not listening, Mick also still had other things on his mind. Far more important and definitely nicer things. (No offense, Ethel.) He made a little step back and once he was sure that no one was watching, he reached behind his back and grabbed a handful of bread cubes from one of the bowls on the buffet table, still looking at Terry addressing his audience with his pompous speech as well as his grossly overstated gestures and expressions. That speech would last for an eternity, Mick just knew it, and he didn’t feel like starving, especially not now that his life had seemingly taken a really great turn.

“... I ask you now to observe one minute's silence as a token of our respect and sympathy for our sweet Ethel...”

Mick pushed the image of Ethel’s wrinkled and actually not-so-sweet face aside. Happily munching his bread cubes, he now recalled the memory of a pair of pale blue eyes looking at him from under the longest lashes he had ever seen. Orla O’Connell’s gorgeous, freckled face became clearer and her red-tinted lips smiled sweetly at him as Mick’s mind once again drifted off to last night, to their very first kiss on the porch swing and the ones that followed, to the moment when he had brought Orla home and when she had insisted on him staying and when she had started undressing him in the hallway and how they had barely made it to her room where they would eventually-

“Oy, creep, what are you grinning at?!” Connor’s sister, Delilah, now hissed at him, interrupting his pleasant thoughts and nudging him with her elbow a little harder than necessary. “Stop eating!”

“Ow! I’m hungry, fuck off.” Mick spat back. “Terry’s at the top o’ his game, it’ll take ages until they open up the buffet.”

“Disrespectful freak.” Delilah muttered, shaking her head and crossing her arms. She was usually all bark and no bite, Mick knew, but very irritating nonetheless.

Terry now directly looked into Mick’s direction and cleared his throat. Mick stared back at him, swallowing down his bread crumbs, suddenly seeing the many irritated faces staring at him, among them the horrified expressions of his parents.

Oh.

It was actually the second time that day someone had caught him with food and he usually would have laughed at the coincidence but considering that he was at a memorial service, he decided against it.

“Sorry!” he called.

Terry closed his eyes and sighed. “Now, one minute’s silence, please.”

Mick bit his lip. Thanks, Delilah. While he usually hated being made look silly, nothing could ruin his mood today, not even his uptight cousin. Granted, it probably was a little inappropriate to think of the things he had just thought of again at a memorial service but then again, no one could read his thoughts and wasn’t death also about celebrating life, after all?

Just as Mick’s mind wandered back to all the moments he had celebrated life with Orla last night he could feel his phone buzzing in the pocket of his suit jacket. Making sure that everyone else was still busy remembering Ethel, Mick stuffed the last few bread cubes in his mouth, pulled the cell phone out of his pocket and when he saw that the new message was from the person he hoped it would be from, a stupid-but-blissful smile spread across his face. He unlocked the screen.

I want dinner and I want to see you. Not necessarily in that order. And yes, this is me asking you out on a first real date. 💖

Swiftly scanning the room for possible watchers again and seeing that everyone was still caught up in one minute’s silence, Mick eventually looked back down on his phone, hit the reply button and started typing.

hi gorgeous

kinda in the middle of sth here but Im gonna call ya once I get out

He pressed the ‘send’ button. Not keen on provoking another awkward situation like the one that had just happened, Mick wanted to put his phone back but as he felt another buzz, he was too curious.

What kinda thing? Was that a ‘yes’, by the way?

ethels memorial service

What, Ethel died??? 😱 😱 😱

yeah last monday

You could have mentioned that at some point?!?! 😨

its fine no one actually liked her and she was old

OMG MICK WTF!!!

Torn between the excitement about meeting Orla later and the fear of getting another weird look from Terry who had just picked up his speech again, Mick eventually decided to put his phone away for now.

what

its true

talk to you later

It just occured to him that he still hadn’t let Orla know what he thought of her suggestion. Rolling his eyes at himself, he dug out his phone once more.

and yeah

that was a yes

😘

*****

Some miles away, Orla frowned at her phone’s screen, feeling mild irritation but, above all, a great rush of joy. She would call Mick out later for merely casually mentioning that he was going to be at the memorial service of a family friend that day (and also for that rather insensitive remark about no one liking said family friend, no matter how much of a truth it was) but joy had overwhelmed her. He said yes. He wanted the date.

*****

(to be continued…!)

(*) A proverb by Richard Russo, author and screenwriter.

#orla #mick #orla x mick #just a little silly drabble before bed #don't mind me I'm trash for these two lol #will polish and edit when I feel like it #*tossing out the WIPS like nothing else*#one day I will update and finish all the crap I have here #as well as all the crap I still have flying around in my drafts haha #but now off to bed!#mick sucks at texting btw #he's the annoying kind of person who writes sixteen half sentences in a row instead of writing a proper text #orla finds it adorable though #especially now that she has heart eyes for him #annoying stuff becomes endearing in that phase after all haha #ANYHOO BED #GOOD NIGHT #looking forward to writing more about my idiots SOON

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