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em-writes-stuff-sometimes · 10 months

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darilaros (princess) │ Chapter 1: Sunrise

terms of endearment ‘verse: see my Masterlist for the correct series order!

Chapter 1 │Chapter 2 │Chapter 3 │Chapter 4 │Chapter 5 │Chapter 6 │Chapter 7 │Chapter 8 (COMPLETE!)

Synopsis: Queen Aemma brings a new child into the world—you. As the second daughter of King Viserys, you experience firsthand what it means to belong to the House of the Dragon.

Hello, everyone! Welcome to the very first instalment of this series, featuring baby!Babey and teen-uncle!Daemon! This prologue will be the only Daemon POV of this instalment (or at least that is my current plan), and there will be several time jumps in keeping with canon. Please keep in mind that, as canon diverges around Episode 5/6 in this series, much of what occurs in the show will also occur as-is here, so don’t expect anything particularly innovative in terms of plot, lol. I’m hoping this will be an opportunity to establish Babey as a firm part of the storyline in a manner that is a little less ambiguous, and will also serve to provide more wholesome Babey/Daemon interactions to foreground their later shift. A couple things: there will be NO ROMANCE in this fic, because Babey is a child. Ew. There may be mentions of romance between other characters, but this story will be told firmly through Babey’s eyes and thus events are limited to her own interpretations.

Anyway! Enough from me - on with the show!

TRIGGERS: mentions of miscarriage/stillbirth, mentions of childbirth trauma, blood.

“And so it was that, in the summer of 109 AC, Queen Aemma took once again to her childbed, remaining there for near two days for what would be a difficult and taxing labour. In the early hours of the morning, King Viserys and his lady wife welcomed a living babe—but not the babe they expected. The arrival of a second daughter took both by surprise, for they had come to believe the child in the Queen’s belly had been their longed-for son. It was nonetheless announced that the Queen had been delivered of a healthy girl, and a great relief was struck up across the Realm, the bells of King’s Landing being rung from dawn to dusk and the people gathering on the streets in praise of their new Princess.”

- ‘Fire and Blood: Being a History of the Targaryen Kings of Westeros’ by Archmaester Gyldayn

It's quiet this time, he thinks. No snivelling midwives, no wailing… A good thing, surely.

Still. The silence, in all of its peculiarity, is unnerving. After the last occasion—the frenetic activity bustling up and down the halls, the yelling, the sound of Aemma’s screams, the stench of blood thickening in his nostrils as he stepped forth to take his first and last view of the purple, unmoving babe in the cradle he would never outgrow—the absence of sound seems almost foreboding. Should he not hear the child cry? Should he not be within by now? He would venture to knock on the door, but he dare not risk disturbing this fragile peace—especially if it is not fated to remain so.

Thus, Daemon Targaryen, eighteen summers of age and the King’s very own brother, waits in his seat opposite the entry to the Queen’s chambers as he has done for hours. And, as he sits, he prays.

Well—not pray, exactly. He’d have to believe in gods to do that. But, should a higher power exist, it cannot hurt to lend his own voice to the masses that even now attempt to muster enough mercy to grant the survival of his cousin and the child she has worked so hard to bring forth these past moons. Let them live, he urges, pressing the thought out into the air around him, into the sky far above the Keep. Let them both live.

“Any news?”

Daemon snaps to attention, head tilting automatically to the intruder. He suppresses a sneer. Now is not the time.

“Nothing,” he says, taking care to keep his tone even.

Otto Hightower sighs. “Well”—the Hand of the King moves closer, towering over Daemon with his hands clasped behind his back—“no news is good news, I hope.”

“Hm.” He’ll not dignify that with a response.

Hightower’s eyes narrow in on him. “There is no need to sound quite so downtrodden, Prince Daemon. I am sure the King will find some use for you… now that you are no longer his heir.”

He knows what the man is after. A display of anger, perhaps—maybe even hot-headed insistence on his part that his position stands as it has since Viserys won the throne, that the child is dead, that the Lord has every reason to fear him still. He won’t give him the satisfaction, though. If his brother ventures out to see Daemon once again railing at his most trusted advisor…

Daemon’s desire to meet his nephew outweighs his need to put this upstart in his place.

“Never fear, Otto.” He smiles, lips stretched wide with too much teeth, threatening more than welcoming. “I’ll always have a place by Viserys’s side. I am his brother. And you…” He looks the man up and down. Even now, the pin of the Hand is attached to the cunt’s lapel like a sycophantic badge of honour, gleaming in the golden torchlight. “What are you, exactly?”

Hightower’s jaw clenches. “I am the Hand of the Ki—”

“For now,” Daemon says, a smug half-smirk playing at the very corners of his mouth. “Don’t forget that. For now.”

What he doesn’t say is plain to read upon his face. One day, he’ll understand. One day, he’ll see you for what you really are. A leech, one who latches onto power and drains those who truly wield it dry.

The reminder makes Otto pale. “I—”

The door creaks open, the flushed face of one Viserys Targaryen appearing in the space between wood and frame. “Daemon.”

Daemon rises. “Is—how is—” He cannot get the fucking words out.

His brother grins. “Aemma is well, and the babe is healthy.”

He lets out a relieved breath, surprised to discover exactly how tense he had been since the messenger had roused him from sleep at the hour of the owl. That tension releases itself with the air he pushes from his lungs, his shoulders sagging from the freedom of it. Suddenly, his eyes no longer feel so wide, so fear-bright, and fatigue sets in. He is tired. But first—

“May I see him?” he asks.

At that, Viserys pauses, whatever he had intended to say to Otto left unfinished. He clears his throat, all joy fleeing his face. “Ah… About that.”

“Is the boy… crippled?” The Hand’s voice is hushed, apprehensive.

“No, no!” Viserys insists, shaking his head. “Only… she is small, quiet. Nothing at all like Rhaenyra was.”

“A girl? But Runciter was so certain!” Otto says, mouth parted in shock.

Runciter’s a fucking fool. Anyone who sets stock by his theories ought to be burned alive, Daemon thinks, rolling his eyes. He’d never liked maesters—any of them, least of all the doddering fuckwits appointed to the vaunted station of Grand Maester. That Runciter had gotten this wrong is hardly surprising. None of them seem to know what they are doing.

He pushes around his brother and leaves him to his latest inanity, moving onward to where his newest niece lay.

The Queen’s chambers are stifling, unbearably hot, the windows closed tight and the fires blazing in spite of the warmth already pervading the early hours of the morn. Another ridiculous notion, he suspects, though whether it be Westerosi custom or Targaryen superstition, he knows not. Perhaps dragonbabes can only be born into the fire they are made from.

Last time he was here, Aemma had been gaunt, eyes red-rimmed and near hysterical from the passing of her first, her only son. She’d laid weeping in her bloodied shift still, bedraggled hair sticking to slick skin as she’d mourned the child, insensate to kind words or reason from any who had approached her. Eventually, Viserys had demanded all who were not the blood of the dragon to remove themselves from the room. Together, he and Daemon had borne Aemma from her childbed, had taken her to the bath still waiting, had disposed of the last markers of gloom and tragedy marring the space.

Only those of Valyrian blood should ever bear witness to weakness from one of their own. Only those of Valyrian blood could ever understand the magnitude of such a loss. Their line had been dying out since the Doom—every death since only ever added salt to the wound.

What Daemon walks into this time is different. So very, very different.

Aemma is gaunt still, overcome by weariness, no doubt sapped greatly by the trials of such long labour. Shadows carve deep hollows beneath her eyes, skeletal, made almost sinister by the flicker of dim light, and her mouth is pale and cracked. Yet, there is naught but a buoyant sort of lightness adorning her face, shining more brilliantly than a crown ever could.

The chamber bears none of that ominous atmosphere that pervaded that night, instead filled with the heady scent of frankincense clogging each breath he draws, earthy smoke settling warm in his gut. The sheets are clean. The midwives calm. The Grand Maester, asleep in the chair by the fire.

And, in the Queen’s arms, the smallest wrapped bundle he has ever seen.

“Is that…” He swallows, dazed and speechless.

His cousin beams. “Come,” she says. “Come and meet her.”

Wordlessly, he approaches, taking care to make his footfalls light so as not to disturb the delicate creature enshrined in a mother’s embrace. As he draws close, he sees that the babe is not asleep as he had thought. Instead, open eyes look upward, deep dark indigo with the merest hint of lilac-violet-amethyst, the promise of Old Valyria in that muzzy, unfocused gaze.

This is the moment he meets you.

Aemma graciously accepts his silent question, relinquishing you to your uncle with naught but a gentle sigh and a stroke to the cheek. So little are you that you settle easily into the line of his arm, head to the crook of his elbow and rump to his cupped hand, light enough that it would be easy to forget you are even there. You let out a soft bleat, feet kicking beneath your swaddling—but that is all. For when that blue-nearly-purple stare shifts, locking with his, you fall silent, still. And so does he.

You are beautiful.

Of course you are. Viserys is hardly the handsomest of men, and Aemma comely enough though of no great noteworthiness, but their firstborn is about as lovely as any girl of nine summers can be. Your sister.

Gods, he thinks. Rhaenyra, an elder sister. The very notion of his spoiled little niece playing such a part seems unwittingly hilarious in this moment. She will not like being made to share her mama and papa—her uncle—with you.

Right now, that is irrelevant. His attention returns to the slope of your nose, the rosebud bloom of your lips, the blush of your rounded cheeks, tracking the near ethereal features of your face with a delicate fingertip. Newborns are dreadful looking things, usually, squished and red and misshapen. You look like a painting, or a doll made by the finest artisans, a sculpture rendered by magic rather than mortal hands. He wonders if it is love for you—and it is love, he has no doubt of that, for his love of family is perhaps the one true redeeming quality he possesses—that blinds him to any imperfection, or if you really are as lovely as you seem.

“What will you name her?” he asks, smoothing the cloths off your fragile little head to take the briefest peek at your scalp. Ah—there it is. Targaryen silver. With an Arryn for a mother, one could never be certain.

“Rhaenyra’s insisted on naming her sister Visenya.”

Daemon glances toward the foot of the bed. Viserys has returned, absent of his loyal hound, drawing near without his notice.

He snorts. “How very like her.” ‘Tis true; Rhaenyra has always been fixated on stories of the Conqueror and his wives, in particular forming a fascination for the elder of Aegon’s Queens. It is a powerful name. A warrior’s name. He frowns. “A fine name—but not for this little thing.”

Visenya is anger and retribution; violence and chaos; death and destruction. Daemon can find nothing of the sort in you. Every part of you—from the tips of your fuzzed palewhite hair to the petite softness of your wiggly little feet—seems fit for a destiny of another kind. One of peace, of calm, of joy and goodness.

Aemma hums an agreement, wholly preoccupied with gazing at her newest child. “If she were a son, her name would be Baelon.”

“Hm.” Viserys steps forward, palm brushing featherlight across your side as he passes to sit by his wife. “Baelon and Visenya. Those are the names we had prepared. But alas, Baelon was not to be. And Visenya is not… right.”

Daemon stands, bringing you a scant few steps toward the window. Dawn is approaching. The sky has relinquished the darkness of night, and there, on the horizon, the faintest of ambers illuminates the locus where the heavens and the earth meet, silhouetting the city below. As he watches the sun rise, he just barely hears the staff behind him make their final exits, awash in a rustle of equipment and a hush of words offered to their mistress and exultant ruler.

A tiny noise below draws his interest. Your eyelids have drooped, soft lashes framing lavender lids that sweep across the skin of your cheeks. When he dips his finger into the parting of your mouth, you begin to suckle at him, reflex rather than need.

“What would you call her?” Aemma asks after seconds, minutes, hours. He turns, brow arched in surprise. She seems genuinely curious, though she is admittedly not one for mean-spirited japes as it is. His cousin has always valued his opinion more than his brother ever had, even if was she who had forced his bitch of a wife upon him. “If you could,” she adds, “what name would you give her?”

He looks to Viserys, wordlessly asking for permission. A dip of the chin is his response. Letting loose a soft grunt, he peers down at his small charge.

Visenya is too fierce. Gael too glum. Too many fucking ‘Rhae’ names, so no Rhaenys. Daella too bland, Saera too provocative, Alysanne too common.

And then, he thinks upon it. The perfect name. Your name. When he says it aloud, he is met with a shine in Aemma’s eyes, a gleam in Viserys’s grin.

“That is it,” the King says, nodding decisively. “That is what we shall call her.” Rising, he comes forward to clap Daemon on the shoulder lightly, hand warm even through the layers of his shirt and coat. “Thank you, brother.”

“Your Grace,” he murmurs, tipping his head.

There is a tightening in his chest, the sort of feeling that threatens to stop his heart from the depth of his own enduring emotion. As Viserys makes his way to the door to deliver the announcement—to proclaim your birth, to order the ringing of the bells, to declare your name for the entire world to hear and know—Daemon gazes down at you.

“What do you think, sweetling?” He says your name again.

This time, he swears that you smile back at him.

Read on AO3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/48798151/chapters/123097897

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aimasup · 2 months

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Spoilers for The March 2024 Welcome Home Update, LONG post warning:

The Eddie Scene

Let's establish two realities: The Neighbourhood (theirs) and The Show (the humans').

(The third is ours, here, actually real, no black gunk and Welcome Home is just a really cool fictional horror project. Irrelevant, just wanted to bring us down to earth)

I like to believe it's an unaware Wreck-It-Ralph situation: The Neighbourhood exists as The Show because that's how they live and what they were created for.

They have a happy home in the commercials and episodes, interviews with humans and playfully leaning on the fourth wall (via Narrator). And when Playfellow Workshop had a really good influential show, they quite literally brought these puppets to life, perhaps too much.

That's where the trouble comes in; we don't know if the puppets being sentient was ever revealed to the public, or what the black rot even is yet. Personally I can't really even guess how much the other puppets know at the moment, not even Home. All we know is that Wally was the first to 'wake up', likely.

So I'm just gonna say what I think about the Eddie segment at the end of the commercial compilation from his perspective alone (bravo to the voice actors and artists my god).

The Neighbourhood...

The Show.

Here's what I assume: both in the Neighbourhood and The Show, Eddie is being given a break from working so hard. Because I believe the script/special was supposed to end here:

Eddie Dear was happy.

[calm jazz music as the title card fades in] And a Happy Homewarming to one and all! Ho Ho Ho!!

End.

Because it makes no sense why The Show staff would spend extra resources to give the puppet Not Quirky Anxiety and end their Christmas special on a worrying note for general audiences.

I think The Show staff wrapped up that scene and left to go check on the rest of the set or something, and the Eddie puppet was left there, alone in Wally's room set because its job is done. Except it isn't, and Eddie became aware somehow.

He sees Home, his friend, and something isn't right

I don't know what this is: my first thought was that it was Home's hand crank, and Eddie was seeing but not understanding the puppets behind the scenes

"Sources say, however, that this puppet’s (Home's) eyes could move through a hand crank on the other side of the prop facing away from the camera."

-(welcomehomerestorationproject.net)

His friend's eyes look dead but they're moving, I thought. But looking at it again, it looks more like a microphone stand a Show staff is holding? Some sort of set equipment. Speaking of the set

Wally's room is too big and leads to nowhere. Is this a visual representation for Eddie's mental state? Did they literally turn the lights off on set? Or can he not see everything right now because his poor fictional brain can't handle our reality just yet?

His hands are fuzzy but there's something in them. Something was under his skin just now. They don't feel like his hands.

"Eddie was a live-hand puppet who required two puppeteers to operate."

-(welcomehomerestorationproject.net)

I imagine he's in a limbo of awareness, he's seeing so many things and not quite understanding what they are, and he's getting more lost and panicked

Can you imagine how overstimulating it must be to go from a clean, happy children's fantasy reality to a world with the laws of physics?

The clock's ticking doesn't quiet down and it's constant. He's sweating when nothing is wrong (?). Gravy was poured on the tree ornament, he's always helped do that, but now it's dripping onto the floor and it's making a gross mess. Little things like that don't have consequences unless the script calls for it. Eddie doesn't know that, and especially he's freaked out by the breathing and the heartbeat.

Maybe it's Home's, or his own, or both, idk.

What's curious is that Frank and Sally are fine and talking about the day's events. This means that Eddie should've been fine after the episode too, relaxed like normal, but he didn't get to. He probably didn't even know when they got there or when Sally left.

This image right here? I think it symbolises the scary clash between both realities by now.

2 (Eddie and Wally) or 4 (counting Sally and Home) out of 9 neighbours being aware is too many. Frank wasn't supposed to have to comfort Eddie. The episode was supposed to end and Eddie can see all of it.

(and yeah maybe romance is an additional factor here)

We don't know if people remember seeing this scene on their televisions. Maybe the episode ended as normal for them. The cameras weren't rolling, so currently, we only get to witness the puppets' descent into decay because someone behind the television is Letting The Neighbourhood In, bit by bit.

Maybe we'll get to see all the other puppets go through the same awareness crisis as the website keeps updating. Personally, I don't think there's an ulterior motive for Home, nor do I think any of the puppets are under strict supervision to behave a certain way for filming episodes, like celebrities.

What freaks me out is that they banter with the narrator and do commercials for real products. They're aware of the fourth wall but only because the fourth wall let them be aware. And it even got me thinking about the nature of existing as a concept (they're fictional characters. they don't really exist? Not in the same way individual humans do anyway. They aren't really supposed to belong to themselves.)

Sorry this turned into ramble rubbish, these are just my thoughts, could be entirely wrong about everything. Welcome Home is just super neat and the amount of effort gone into it shows. Lemme know what yall think, kudos if you read this far

For your troubles 🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍯🥛🍵☕🍶

Extra note: I don't think they require the puppeteers to function outside of episodes either. They just live their lives chilling, don't even know there's a Show. Maybe there's an explanation but for now I'm content with 'it's magic'.

That being said I've seen other theories about the peas and the isolation of Eddie specifically those are real neat

#my post #welcome home #welcome home puppet show #welcome home spoilers #eddie dear #derealization #personal stuff #welcome home theory

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hezuart · 7 months

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New helluva boss episode is out, any thoughts?

Season 1 Fizz: Robo Fizz was mean and called children ugly. Real Fizz called his guests “freaks”. Called Moxie an "ugly little bitch". Bragged about his fame and the money made off his robots and was even really pissed off his robot was destroyed at that theme park and wanted to sue

Season 2 Fizz: Extremely insecure, extremely nervous, hates the robots produced in his image, never bad mouths anyone and is really kind and nice to his competition, knows ASL and gives inspiration to children

Who on earth is this guy???? You’re not Fizz??? By god, she’s done it again! Another male main character has been uwuified!! 😰When will it end???

~~~

Mammon: “You’ll be like the son I never had!” Fizz is elated at this, but Blitz’s dad already treated Fizz like the son he never had? Literally gave him a card saying he wished Fizz was his son. He was treated super well and was the most beloved within his circus. I mean, he did lose that, and him explaining everything he has is because of Mammon, and so I get it, he has an attachment to all this. I like that we are expanding on his character, but I feel like its overdone. The insecurity is a little too much. The panic attacks are a little too much. (Dude lost his arms and legs in a freak fire accident and its a creepy fan that he probably has to deal with on a daily basis that sets him off? I feel like he would be a tad bit mentally and physically stronger to deal with. I mean, he fricken talked back to STRIKER, a serial killer holding him for ransom locked in a cage last episode??? But he freezes up when an annoying fan criticizes him? Just feels inconsistent.)

Mammon saying “If you’re a chick, give up on your dreams, because woman ain’t funny” and then Vivziepop’s name appearing in the corner… there’s so much to unpack there. I think Viv meant it as like “I’m a woman, so I can write that joke!” or “I’m a woman, who wrote this show and is therefore funny so Mammon is wrong and it's ironic!” But it's been established that Viv neglects and mistreats her female characters. They’re either all bitches or cardboard cut outs whose entire existences revolve around a male character. It’s low-key sexist. On top of the fact that, Viv may not actually be funny because most of the actually funny jokes in the show were written by Adam and Brandon, who are both men. So its VERY ironic, but not in the way she believes it to be.

The irony of Mammon hiring an Imp who idolizes him only to exploit him and treat him like garbage… weren’t their exworkers of spindle horse that felt that way?

Some people think that Fizz’s creepy fan is like.. Viv’s poke at her critics but I don’t see a comparison at all. This guy is a super super big fan that wants to work with Fizz, which isn’t what the Viv critics want. I’m pretty sure that’s the whole point- is that they want nothing to do with her? So I’m pretty sure this guy just represents a creepy fan, which everyone gets. Like a Syndrome character.

Also in season 1, Blitz killed imps left and right for Stolas, but when that fan is actually getting close to Fizz and threatening his life, Blitz doesn’t kill him on site. He just hits him with a gun. Thank goodness he kills him later but Blitz has never really been discreet. It was just weird forced timing I guess. Season 1 Blitz would have never hesitated. He would have killed that guy on site.

I will never get over Asmodeus’s weird coat, his anatomy changes with whatever he’s wearing lkdsgjldkfj

Mammon and Fizz are pretty much just Valentino and Angel Dust , but no physical exploitation (other than his robo replicas)

The Glam and Glitz sisters are really cool I’m obsessed with their performance, but we go right back to Viv’s 2 types of women: bitches. They’re bitches to each other too. They’re sisters who have like amazing choreography and on stage chemistry, and yet they constantly fight, like… how do they even function

ALSO THEY GOT TOM HARDY TO SING HE’S NARRATING THE COMPETITION YOU GOT THE INTERNET’S FAMOUS MUSICAL COMEDIAN TO SING A SONG FOR YOUR “COMEDY” SHOW WHERE THE SONG ISN’T EVEN FUNNY It looks like he wrote it himself but… if even Tom can’t make it funny then who can???? I’m mad on his behalf

Also… the ASL imp

…. “I want to be a clown just like you! : D “ Fizz: Exploited for money as a clown ever since he was young, gained a boatload of insecurity because his boss was so pushy, forced to deal with sexual encounters, sold his likeness into a popular sex doll without actually wanting to, lost his arms and legs in a freak fire accident because the circus tents aren’t safe- Also Fizz: “You can do whatever you want to : ) “ This would have been a sweet moment if this wasn’t Helluva Boss!!!!!! This is Hell!!! what on earth are you doing Viv!!!! Kid pls do literally anything else with your life Also how and why does Fiz know ASL

Ozzie and Fizzie getting a love song is cheesy you know, but…. Stolas X Blitz fans wish man… they WISH Oz x FIz is literally just the better Stolas x Blitz. Like this what the Stolitz fans want but its given to the side characters for some reason. Fizz’s end song was nice but All our main characters are just so flat Sad uwu special sweeties that have done nothing wrong... I'm just so sad to see them become former shadows of their badass selves. Our main characters were greedy, selfish, mean, sometimes creepy assholes. Now they're not. It was either an accident, they're hypocrites, or they were abused- and im like... this is Hell, can't we still have our main demon characters be assholes? I'm so curious what the explanation is gonna be for Blitz x Verosika. Is she gonna be framed as the bitch who ruined the relationship? Did Blitz "accidentally" steal her car and credit card because he was drunk? Like what else are we gonna strip away so he's "relatable"?

Nice to see Wally Wackford back I missed him

I like how fiery Ozz’s design gets Ozzie confessing he loves Fizz to an entire crowd so all of Hell knows and everyone is like “OMG I KNEW IT! GOOD FOR THEM!” Being with a low class demon was something to be ashamed of. A power imbalance. Something seen as taboo in Hell. Now we have 3 top sin embodiments dating the lowest of low class in Hell and not only do people not care negatively, they’re happy for them. There’s no stakes. Our main characters can do whatever they want “You’re gonna regret revealing that Ozz!” how who are you gonna tell? the romance police? fricken Now we have Mammon! Add him to the reoccurring villains I guess!!!! yeesh

(Clowns are apparently also like… influencers in this world for some reason???? I still don't understand Vivziepop's clown obsession I think this is just not my jurisdiction )

All things considered, not a bad episode for season 2, but im kinda at the point where I don't think helluva boss is gonna deliver anything outside of abused main characters with cute relationships I don't think they're gonna do anything else

#helluva boss critical #vivziepop critical #text post #ask

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sgiandubh · 6 months

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Lights, camera, shit show

I was just cleaning my OL folders (all those Chinese paintings and scrolls do take a horrendous amount of space, heh) and I just stumbled upon something I completely forgot to share and discuss with you. I found this particular article during my solitaire lurking months and I remember being befuddled by it for a long time, then thought I've lost it for good.

I don't remember ever seeing it shared or discussed in here, either and if, by any slim chance, I am wrong, kindly forgive me. That professional website is now closed, but its content is still available to browse:

Anyway, there goes: https://www.studiodaily.com/2018/06/outlander-dp-stephen-mcnutt-asc-csc-saucy-scottish-show/

We discussed Terry Dresbach and her inebriated rants, Vanessa Woman's devastating impact on set as Intimacy Coordinator, RDM's jealousy and many other aspects of life on the OL set. Rumors likely to have originated there peppered our shipping trail like flickering lights in a sea of darkness. So yes, we dissected these things to death. But not Stephen McNutt's interview to Studio Daily, on June 22, 2018 - please keep in mind the date, it is essential!

Stephen McNutt is a well-established professional and a member of the American Society of Cinematographers (ASC) and the Canadian Society of Cinematographers (CSC), as he hails from British Columbia. He also has a consistent track record of previous work with RDM, both on Battlestar Galactica and Caprica (its prequel). Therefore, one has to immediately suppose he was handpicked and brought on set by the same RDM, of course: set a very low bar on your expectations, I am warning you.

By the grace of RDM, he was one of the main Directors of Photography for OL during Seasons Two and Three. IMDb is not the best source for corroborating things, because they credit him with 13 episodes in Season Two (including La Dame Blanche- he is the Blue Room guy!), but only one for Season Three (First Wife), which is completely wrong. I even had to check some opening credits on Netflix (at reduced speed, ugh), because he speaks at length of A. Malcolm, something that would have made little sense otherwise. He was there, of course: and his is a first-hand account, heavily loaded with both innuendo and TPTB bullshit, up to the point of complete incoherence.

We focus on the three final questions:

This is a study in bullshitology, right here. The question asked is very clear and very technical: how did you approach those famous love scenes?

The answer is a mumble jumble of retcon, deflections, slips and overall impossible scramble for a logical explanation. I am doing a line by line, because this is almost too good to be true:

'(...) But as far as Cat and Sammy making love (...)' : um, hello and excuse me, I thought the question was about Jamie and Claire?!? And then we are delusional and can't fucking separate, when your own henchman, the Director of Photography no less, seems to be totally unable to do so, too? Hello? Also: 'Sammy'? 'Sammy'? What. The. Total. Fuck, and I LOLed then and I am still LOLing now. Terms of endearment overheard on set - but no, here comes the 'friendship' shite, hitting the narrative fan with Mach 5 speed. Objective? Explaining in a plausible way the hugging and 'keeping warm'. And I am sorry, but this begs the question: what the hell did this man see on that set? And how many people did see the same, hence the need to release such a gratuitous lie, for pure retconning purposes?

'They are not an item at all - I think she just got married'. Oh, fuck my life, man: you are such a terrible, terrible liar! Remember, that interview was taken in June 2018: after the OZ EFH and just about when C. was gleefully answering 'oh, God forbid!' every time she was prompted by press about her marriage plans. How can somebody with a pretty high trophic level and personal rapport to both S and C be totally unaware about C's marital status at the time? How can a long time acquaintance and coworker of RDM say no both to a friend and to a current boss (same person, the worst case scenario) asking for a favor, in that particular context? It also goes to prove that the shit show plot mainlines never originated with S and C and that the Remarkable Week-end was already planned for quite some time. By TPTB. With the full knowledge of RDM.

Let's suppose Mr. McNutt was so deeply engrossed in his work as not to notice all the people who must have congratulated C on set. I mean, I know who our (spinster) colleague from Accounting is currently banging and that guy is (mercifully) not among our staff (I totally wish them well, btw). Maybe because nobody congratulated C on that fakegagement? Also, you know them well enough to confidently say 'they are not an item', but don't know she was not married at the time and state an enormity with the same confidence? What in the name of the hoo-ha did I just read, here?

'I was always in such amazement of that.' In amazement of exactly what, Mr. McNutt? Surely not a woman holding hands or keeping warm with her gay co-star on set, huh? I mean, I need the best American English dictionary, here:

Again: what the heck did this man see? What comments did he hear? Surely, 'amazement' is a very precise choice of wording, with particularly enlightening synonyms:

Hence the need to end the demonstration with a deflection: 'They would just have fun.' You know, there is no such thing as a virgin whore, Mr. McNutt: you either are in such astonishment or you think your pals, good old S and C, such a funny girl, were having, well... 'fun', what else? You can't logically have both in the same paragraph!

And there we go: 'a very collegial atmosphere on set'. The answer is pure fool's gold, if you ask me: 'Nobody goes to sit in a trailer or says they aren’t showing up that day. '

And I laughed. And I laughed. And I laughed. I really don't know what this man is talking about. I never heard McTavish telling S to get out of that trailer ('nephew'). I never read the 'two very loved-up birdies' in a trailer a-rockin' Anons. I never watched that 2015 Anglophile SDCC interview, when S mentioned listening in their shared trailer to Erasure's Oh, l'Amour and C immediately reacted ('oh, did you just admit to that?'). But unlike me, McNutt must have been legally bound by a big cojones Non-Disclosure Agreement and morally bound by loyalty towards RDM, his friend, boss and benefactor.

This. All of the above. This is the real reason for all the bullshit you've just read: explaining a real, shocking love story by socially progressive regulations, allowing the cast to be 'much more happy'. I would laugh some more, if this was not sinister and cruel, in fact.

It is Love. A deep, strong one. But the seeds of the adverse narrative were planted early and deep, forcing even decent people like this guy to lie and smear himself a bit in the process. What we see and hear now are but better worded and more refined consequences of that fateful January 2016 morning in LA. And since I am allowed the dubious luxury only a healthy distance in time allows, let me remind you a simple, fun fact about this interview who stated they were never an item:

About ten months after McNutt uttered these words, the fandom was hit by the Covfefe Pics.

I rest my case.

#shitshow #fandom

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lias-writings · 1 year

Text

The making of The Last of Us

pairing: bella ramsey x fem!reader

warnings: kissing, established relationship, pet names, fluff, mention of hickeys, little jealousy

summary: just a few cute moments shared between you and your partner bella during the filming TLOU<33

a/n: hi! so sorry I couldn’t pos this sooner but here we are, I had a really hard week and i finally managed to finish this today anyway thanks to everyone who voted it was helpful, I hope you have a nice day/night and im going to sleep, love ya, enjoy!! <3

masterlist

before you two started dating:

you and bella were the only people around your age during most of the filming a spending 3 months together filming and still had like 8 more to go you just grew closer and gained sort of feelings for each other. both of you were too shy to admit something and the fear of making things awkward wasn’t really handy.

when pedro after weeks finally made bella confess to you, you couldn’t be happier, you were about to spend another months with your now partner working on a tv show you’ve grown to love- what a dream, right?

~~~~~~~

“get a room”

you were sitting on the grass, near the set, enjoying the sun. you haven’t seen much of it while working in canada so you were grateful for every sunny day.

re-reading your lines for scene you were supposed to film next and making sure you remember them correctly you heard footsteps behind you. you didn’t even had to look and you already knew who that is.

feeling two hand wrapping around your waist made it even more obvious to you.

“hi.” bella whispered in your ear gently. you could swear you heard his smile.

“hey.” you said back.

“what are doing love?” they asked while you turned your head to face them

“just reading the lines.” you answered holing eye contact with her and after few seconds of looking at each other with heart eyes and stupid smiles you felt his lips kissing your and you kissed back, almost immediately.

little kisses turned into a make out session but you two still held a little back, knowing anyone could be walking around.

after few seconds you felt bella’s hands back on your waist so instinctively put yours around their neck.

“jesus! seriously, get a room, you two are making single people cry.”

and that was all it took you and bella to open your eyes and almost jump from each other (you would if y’all weren’t sitting ofc).

“pedro, I swear to god, grow up!” you yelled with a smile creeping on your face. bella just chuckled and shook her head in amusement.

“yeah, yeah whatever, now get up we have a work to do, you can make out later.” the man said and started walking towards the set, which was few meters away.

~~~~~~~~~

me? jealous? never!

a/n: lily’s not an actual actress from tlou I completely made her up for the story !! she/her pronouns used for lily :)) oh!! and bcs the 2nd most voted was jealous!bella hear is a short one and longer, better, is on its way !!!

so you and bella have been dating for a few months and everything is great. a few weeks ago you started filming new episode, which means new people on the set. you got friends with a girl named lily, who’s playing a background character and it’s going good so far.

you would never claim yourself as an oblivious person, you always could tell when people tried to hit on you, but this time, you were completely blind.

lily had a crush on you even before you started filming but seeing you in person made her fall for you even more. she knew you were in relationship with bella (I mean you two made it really obvious) and she knew it was wrong from her to like you but she couldn’t help herself.

she started with just small talks with you during the breaks or between each takes, she would even became friends with bella.

after few days she asked you to hang out, you being a perfect gf obviously told bella, who didn’t really mind because lily seemed nice to them as well.

after few weeks of your friendship with lily bella finally figured out what’s all this about but he didn’t want to seem possessive so she haven’t said anything.

they even wouldn’t if you weren’t completely oblivious and didn’t keep on hanging out with lily.

you of course noticed that bella has been more affectionate when people were around and that they haven’t been as nice to lily as they used to. (not that lily was nice to bella, she sort of ignored them whenever you were around)

“don’t you see that? she’s totally into you!” bella said not really calmly after you confronted her about her behaviour.

“what are you talking about? bella, she’s my friend.” you answered confused.

“she doesn’t wants to be friends with you, the way she looks at you, touches your arms whenever you’re around, or when she’s flirting with you? in front of me? that’s not friendship.” bella says back as if it was completely obvious. (it was)

“bella i-wait, are you jealous?”

“me? jealous? never.”

and that’s when it hit you. bella might be an amazing actor but they can’t lie (at least not to you). you also realised that he was right the whole time. looking back you couldn’t believe you were so blind, maybe you wanted to believe that she’s your friend so bad, you didn’t see the rest of it.

in the upcoming time you made sure that lily gets the hint that you are not interested in her and that you would never choose anyone over bella. (i mean who would, it’s bella)

bella also made sure that lily gets the hint by covering your neck (not just the neck but mainly) in blue and purple bruises, not that it was handy while filming ( your makeup artist wasn’t happy and you better believe that) but it fulfilled its purpose.

a/n: btw!! I might do something like this in future again, i had fun writing it!!

#bella ramsey x reader #bella ramsey #beldro ramscal #bella ramsey fanfic #ellie williams x reader #bella ramsey fluff #fluff #hbo the last of us #part two maybe?#lia writes 🌷🛍️

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genericpuff · 8 months

Text

saw this pop up on /r/UnpopularLoreOlympus and I-

Full analysis post that inspired this post can be read here, it's a good read, go check it out!

Now my natural reaction to not assume the worst (shocking, I know) is that what Rachel's actual intention behind making Leto a sun god was due to her being Apollo's mother and her clearly having a stronger relationship with him rather than Artemis. I'm abiding by Occam's Razor here, it's the simplest answer and it keeps my brain from getting too riled up right off the bat LMAO

There's a lot of emphasis put on Apollo being the god of the sun in LO, despite the fact that Apollo is one of the MOST prolific gods in the Greek pantheon, Rachel only ever really focuses on him being god of the sun with some loose references to him also being the god of music (as we see with him playing his lyre). There's really no real referencing to him being the god of medicine though (aside from that scene of him condom-bandaging Persephone's hand in Episode 22 ?? which is silly now in hindsight because she's a fertility goddess who can heal herself but ok lmao and the fact that Rachel established him as a LITERAL DAD with his doctor son Asclepius which ... just feels weird to have in LO tbh) and there's absolutely no referencing (from what I can find or recall) of him being a protector of the young, god of prophecy (for some reason he just magically gives Kassandra the ability to read prophecies... just so she can read his prophecy ??) or archery. Like, he's shown doing a lot of these things but they come across more as just side hobbies or extensions of him being Artemis' brother (like his archery) rather than aspects of his godliness or domains that he presides over. It's just like yeah, Apollo can shoot arrows and bandage people's hands I guess LMAO

All that said, I can see Rachel deciding to make him primarily the god of the sun and then going "oh! let's make his mom a sun god! then she could be a common enemy for both Persephone and Hades!" because Hades doesn't like sun gods yadda yadda.

But... we know Rachel has used front page Google sourcing in her comic before.

(literally the 'source' was copy pasted from a 2004 study guide for Princeton.edu. And we KNOW this was taken right from the first result because it just says 'www.princeton.edu' with no slug attached, which is what showed up back when we first looked into this, the princeton version was deadass the first result with this definition word for word. She didn't even remove the typo where there's no space between Xenios:"Zeus !!!).

And while a bit more into sus territory rather than outright confirmed like the xenia thing above, there's the whole Metis / Métis theory, that has us wondering if Rachel seriously googled "Metis" on its own and accidentally used Indigenous Métis cultural depictions in her version of Metis, the Greek God.

The fringe in her outfit, finger wings, and dark orange/red color really got my attention the first time I saw her design years ago, because she set off so many, "Wait a minute, is that an Indigenous woman???" bells in my Mi'kmaq/Cree brain LMAO And not even in a bad way, but now it feels a little :/ because of how much her character has been assassinated and how clearly accidental it was for her to look like that.

Of course, there's still a more likely explanation that her design was based on this vase:

But IDK y'all. That vase is very distinctly orange while the character itself is depicted in dark garbs and with light skin, so Metis being distinctly red-toned with finger wings and fringe?

While the Xenia thing is definitively copy pasted from the first search result on Google (literally there's no denying that at this point, Rachel's REALLY bad at doing research and then pretending like she was being smart by sourcing it from a university website... completely ignoring the fact that that website literally hasn't been updated since Rachel was working on The Doctor Pepper Show) the Metis and Leto depictions are definitely a lot more up for debate as to what 'research' Rachel did and whether or not they got confused with something else during her searching.

And really, the whole thing with Leto being a "sun god" doesn't make sense really when you think about it. Why is Leto a sun god? It's not even like you could argue there are "some versions" of the myths where she's a god of the sun, or other translations out there, or whatever vague source that could be used like what has been used for other gods like Hades and Persephone. Leto is not affiliated with the sun in any shape or form. Remove Apollo, her eventual son, who didn't exist when she was born and given the title of 'sun god', and it quickly falls apart as to why she would be a sun god in the first place.

She is a goddess of motherhood though, and that's NEVER mentioned in LO. If anything, Rachel makes her a terrible mom on purpose. Because god knows we can't have anyone in this comic be a good mom except for Persephone and Rhea (who are literally just carbon copies of one another). Basically the only thing Rachel gets right with Leto is the fact that she's a Titan and that she had Apollo and Artemis after sleeping with Zeus. That's it.

Unfortunately, unlike the xenia thing, there's no outright proof of what Rachel's reasoning was behind these designs or sources. So I'm not gonna accuse or outright state it as fact that Rachel confused Metis for Métis or ripped the idea for Leto being a sun god from an anime, because the odds of that being true in any way are fairly low.

But they're never zero.

#lore olympus critical #lo critical #anti lore olympus #antiloreolympus

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syrma-sensei · 2 years

Text

→ A Dragon's Glory.

gif credit

pairing: daemon targaryen x lannister!reader.

rating: fluff, smut.

word count: 4.5k

warning: polygamy, established relationship, sub/dom dynamics, pregnancy sex, god complications, oral (female receiving), body worship, daemon being silly, extremely cocky, and absolutely smitten with you...

a/n: this is a sequel to my "a true victory". However, you need not to read the prequel, but it's preferable, though. the events of this fic take place in episode five, but the plot doesn't necessarily follow the canon agendas.

masterlist | ao3

IT'S PRINCESS RHAENYRA'S BETROTHAL DAY. You look at yourself in the mirror as your handmaid is sprucing your hair up with shinning rubies and golden accessories, and another is decorating your hands with jewelleries. Red and gold, the colours of your house; Lannister. The gown hugging your frame ever so delicately is crimson of colour, its velvet touch is so smooth on your skin. Two rounded, golden earrings adorning your ears; the right one is lion-shaped, and the other takes the form of the three-headed dragon of your husband's royal house; Targaryen. And both sigil are ruby-eyed.

You take pride in belonging to both houses; the lion you inherited, and the dragon you're married to. In occasions as such, you don't waste the opportunity of flaunting your post off; your glory.

When you're done, you study your appearance in the mirror. Satisfied by the results, you hum approvingly and praise your handmaidens' good work. Then, one of your ladies-in-waiting steps into your dressing chamber, dipping her head in courtesy. “The Prince is waiting for you, my lady.”

You find your prince husband waiting for you in your shared corridor, the one links your chambers to his. Daemon grins the instant his eyes fall upon you.

“Oh, my lioness...” He takes your hand and kisses your knuckles softly, “You look ravishing, love.”

“Why, thank you...” You kiss his both cheeks, giggling when he tries to plunder your freshly-painted lips into a kiss, “You look gorgeous yourself, my dragon.”

You do indulge him in a peck on his lips, but of course such teasing gesture doesn't rise to his contentment as he presses his lips to yours in a gentle kiss. His rough fingers caressing your stomach in circles. He draws out, kissing the tip of your nose, then stares at the bump in your belly.

It's been months since Daemon's back at court, and you can't be any happier. He's now a lot more behaved. Perhaps the fact he's going to be a father soon eased his usual wildness. Nevertheless, you cannot say the same thing about his appetite for you, especially after you stomach started to swell. It drives him mad knowing that you're carrying his child within your womb. He takes you almost every night if you're not tired.

“Gods,” He grumbles in a low voice, “You're growing prettier each day...”

“My toes do not agree with you, though, darling. They're disappearing,” You hum jocularly, “They look hideous.”

“Nonesense.” He asserts, cupping your cheek, “I like your toes, they're the second-best thing about you.”

Your eyelashes blink coquettishly. “Might I know what's the best thing?”

“The best thing...” Daemon looks aside for a moment, pondering, then he gazes back at you with a mischievous grin, “Two things, actually.”

A strong red colour flushes across your cheeks, “Daemon!” You chide him, throwing your eyes in a quick scan in fear of someone lurking around while your husband savouring your embarrassment.

Accepting his offered elbow, you shake your head a tad, murmuring, “You're incorrigible.”

“I'm afraid I am.” He chuckles, his steps are cautious and slow to not hurry you, “You like it, though. I know you do.”

The corner of your lips tugs upward in a half smile, your fingers tenderly brushing his arm. “I would not have it any other way, my love.”

“I'd find my way to you, darling, trust me.” He pinches your cheek playfully.

“Of course you would.” You chuckle.

Daemon tugs a strand of your mane behind your ear, asking, “Feeling better?”

You nod, “Do not worry, my love, I'm perfectly fine.”

You stroll your way towards the throne room, making sure to arrive at the feast before the announcement of any arrival of lord paramount. In better circumstances, you two should have been by Rhaenyra and the King's side from the very beginning of the banquet, but due to the sudden fatigue you suffered this morning resulted by your pregnancy, Daemon insisted on not being in hurry, telling you that his brother and niece would understand. And should you not be excited about his niece's wedding —and perhaps the most enthralled one of them all— so much, your husband would forbid you from attending today's celebration. You know he means well, and he only cares about your health and the babe's. But you assured him that mere nausea and tiredness wouldn't render you in bed. He wasn't quite convinced, but Daemon acquiesced to your determination, nonetheless. However, you had to make him a promise; that should you feel any kind of discomfort, you'd immediately retire to your chambers and have rest.

When you reach the throne room, Ser Harrold Westerling, Lord Commander of the Kingsuard, bows his head for you both before announcing, “Prince of the city, Prince Daemon Targaryen and his Lady wife, Lady (Y/N) Lannister!”

You watch King Viserys smile when he spots you both, and your heart is put at ease. Everyone in the hall stands up and bows for you and your husband. And once you are in front of the king, both of you curtseyed him. The latter nods at you in acknowledgement.

You turn your head to the Princess, smiling widely. “Congratulations, Princess, you live to your title indeed; bringing such delight to the realm.”

“Why, thank you, Lady (Y/N).” She smiles in return, “This celebration wouldn't come out perfect as such if it weren't for you.”

“Oh, please, I only did my duty, Your Grace.”

“My daughter and I owe you infinite thanks, Lady (Y/N).” King Viserys remarks, while drifting his eyes to his brother, “You're a fortunate man, Daemon. She's a rare gem, do keep her treasured, brother.”

“I shall do, brother,” Daemon holds your waist, pulling you a bit to his chest, “I shall certainly do.”

After curtsying the monarch again, you and Daemon take your place at the main table, with your husband sitting next to the empty chair, which you presume the Queen's, and you between him and Lord Lyonel Strong, Hand of the King.

With slight worry in your eyes, you scan the hall, corner by corner, while your smile is wavering on your lips. Everything is set to your exact dictation. The beautiful music, and delicious platters, and the mesmerising decorations of the throne hall. Even though everything is meeting with your expectations, something within your chest doesn't set right.

You feel the warmth of Daemon's hand on yours, as he leans to you, his face close to yours, “You need not to worry, darling.” He kisses your temple, “Everything is perfect and you just got praised by the bride and her father. Your grand efforts are profusely paying off.” He squeezes your hand gently, “You took it upon yourself to organise and supervise my niece's wedding festivities and worked on it so hard even though you're with child. I admire your strong will, darling.”

Your lips stretch in a genuine smile, “You flatter me, my lord.”

“No, I'm only stating the truth, my lady. I can't even imagine how patient and understanding you were throughout it all.”

Your smile slips away again when you glance at him, murmuring, “What if it's not to the Velaryons' taste. What if they don't like it?”

“If it were not, I'd question Lord Corlys's standards.”

You hide your giggle behind your fingers cordially, whispering “You can't, since queenly women are his taste.”

Daemon chuckles, “Can't say the same thing about his son, though, can I?”

You nudge your husband by your elbow, “Daemon!” You berate breathlessly, darting your eyes around to make sure nobody heard your husband's words, “Gods be good, you truly are incorrigible.”

Of course it reached your ears, the matter of Ser Laenor's taste. You did not believe such allegations at first, but having your husband confirming them to you broke your heart. That Laenor and Rhaenyra are bounded by an arranged marriage, in spite of their personal unhappiness for the sake of the realm.

You regard yourself lucky. Being married to your true love despite the impossibility of it. But you have to admit that Daemon is no like any other man. He's the type of a man if he wants something, he takes it, and nothing will ever stop him from doing so, not even the Seven themselves. There is a common belief that Targaryens are closer to gods than man, and being married into this dynasty, you allow yourself to indulge in being a god's wife... his goddess, the one he fought the world to claim her.

He never cared about tradition, especially foreign ones to him, and he clung to his family's customs by claiming two wives. If the first one was forced upon him, then he'd force the second upon all. And that was exactly what he did when he proposed to you, asking your brother, Jason, the head of house Lannister, your hand in marriage. Your brother did not show in sign of refusal at the time. Jason saw a great opportunity by accepting Daemon as your groom; he'd have Targaryen nephews, and dragons flying over the lion's banners if needed. Surely, what your brother did was frowned upon, and risked the King's wrath. But Daemon didn't care, nor did you. Mayhaps your successful marriage to the prince made Jason's ego go so high that he himself proposed to the Princess some time ago.

Speaking of the lions...

Ser Harrold Westerling announces again, “It with great pleasure, that His Grace, King Viserys, announces the start of the royal wedding celebrations.” Everyone is set alert as the Lord Commander continues, “House Lannister, with their Lord Jason Lannister; lord paramount of the West, and master of Casterly Rock...”

You smile when you see your twin brothers, Jason is several steps ahead to everyone, of course. They bow to the king respectfully, and then guided to their spot in the hall. You made sure to give your house a good seat at the banquet. Jason strides upward and dips his head to the monarch.

“Congratulations, Your Grace,” He says, “You have made a fine match for the Princess.”

“Thank you, Lord Jason.” You hear Rhaenyra remark, “I can think of no better man than Ser Laenor.”

You can detect the slight mockery in the future queen's tone. Daemon sneers under his breath and you frown at him. Of course you understand the reason behind the Princess' attitude. You know how your brother proposed to her, and how she wounded his pride. Although you don't endorse your brother's behaviour, but he's as a lion as you are, he's your blood, and you do not tolerate any kind of debasing he or anyone of your house might be regarded by.

Jason chuckles, “Well, if this is only the welcom feast, I admire I can only imagine what might be planned for the rest of the wedding...”

“Oh, my daughter is the future queen,” The King replies, “I want this a wedding for the histories. And we have your lady sister to thank.”

Jason nods and turns to you with a smile, “Dear sister!”

“Dear brother!” You nod in acknowledgement to him.

“My prince.” Jason salutes your husband too. He returns his attention to the King again, “Where is the Queen? I hoped to pay my respects.”

“I understand that the Queen is still readying herself for the celebrations.”

“This is why men wage war, because women will never be ready for the battle in time.”

You blink in your seat, cringe crawling at your skin because of your brother's dull jest.

Daemon snores a bit, dropping a comment, “Perhaps Lord Jason finds women late at other specific matters as well.”

Your eyes fly wide at the under-the-belt insinuation your husband just made, and the King's deep chuckle with Rhaenyra making no effort to hide her amusement make it worse.

You gaze at your brother apologetically. “Brother!” You cheered, “I shall be with you in a moment to catch up with you.”

Jason forces a smile, “Of course, sister.”

You throw a glare at your husband while he's still grinning. However, he drops it. “What?”

“It's not funny, you know.” You say, “Making fun of my brother right in front of me and everyone else.”

“Oh, darling please—”

You turn your head straight again, to receive the next guests. You hear Daemon sulk which makes your lips tug up in a small grin. House Hightower followed, then finally house Velaryons are announced. And such an entrance they are. You sigh in relief when you see their approving faces.

The King makes a small welcoming speech untill he's interrupted by his own wife, Queen Alicent Hightower. Eyebrows being raised, and hushed comments are made as the Queen, with her brilliant green gown, threads her way towards the main table. Everyone stands for her, except for your husband. She congrats her stepdaughter and kisses her husband's cheek as the latter carries on with his welcome, and he doesn't forget to give you the credits for your efforts.

When the King is finished, and after the Princess and her betrothed danced their private dance, you excuse yourself and go to entertain the guests. Daemon grabs your hand and you squeeze his. “Everything is going to be alright, love.” You slide a hand beneath your engorged belly as you waddle to the spot where you placed your house; close to the royal table at the front right.

Jason is the first to greet you. “Dear sister,” He leans in to kiss your cheek, “I've missed you so much.”

“I missed you too.” You return his kiss then nod at your other sibling.

“Sister.” Tyland says, roaming the hall with studying eyes, then he smiles at you, “I see you're quite deft at planning celebrations, (Y/N). We're proud of you.”

Jason grasps at your shoulders in enthusiasm. “Well, of course, brother. She's the most suitable for such post. She and Daemon make the perfect royal couple.” He says the last sentence with a bit bitterness.

Tyland clicks his tongue, “Wish the Prince has known you first though. His late wife did not deserve such failed deal.”

With furrowed eyebrows, you ask your brother, “Late wife?”

Jason looks at his twin perplexed, then back at you. “Yes, sister, Lady Royce passed weeks ago. Are you not aware?”

You fix a smile. “O-Of course, I am. I just do not keep her in mind so much.”

“And you shall never have to from now on, as she's out of your way, sweet sister.”

Your face deadpans. “She wasn't in my way to begin with, brother, and surely of all people, you know that the most.”

“Certainly, but—”

“If you'll excuse me, dear brother, I must attend to the other guests.”

You leave the guests of your house slightly puzzled. You spot your husband dancing with Lady Laena Velaryon as you make your way to the other side of the hall. Where house Hightower are seated. Lady Lynesse Hightower, wife of Lord Hobert Hightower, dips in courtsy for you.

She was one of the many appalled ones when you and Daemon got married. Thinking of your knot illegal by gods and man's laws as you were his second wife. You've received lots of responses of the sort. It never bothered you really. In fact, you relished in them; watching all of them bowing for you despite their inner disgust, you really didn't care. You're a lioness of The Rock, and your husband is a dragon prince, the strongest knight of the seven kingdoms, and the fiercest warrior of the realm. You have nothing to fear.

However, something about Lady Lynesse's smirk unsettles you greatly.

“Ser Gerold Royce is invited to the royal wedding, I see.”

“Ser Gerold is a fine knight, and a good man, can't see why not?”

Lynesse shakes her head with a sneer. “Must salt be rubbed in his wound, Lady (Y/N)?”

That makes you brows knit in a scowl. “I do not quite catch your meaning, Lady Lynesse.”

“You do know that your prince husband's first, lawful wife who was Ser Gerold's cousin, has passed, do you not?”

“Yes, I do.” You answer, with every ounce of indifference you can muster.

Lady Lynesse clicks her tongue amusedly. “It's said Lady Rhea fell off her horse and was crushed by it. But you see, Lady Rhea was an excellent rider, and many are not convinced that such accident would kill her.”

“Your point?” You say impatiently.

“I'm only saying that there are some people who believe that Lady Rhea Royce's death was no coincidence, and was by design.”

It casts upon you, and you raise an eyebrow at her. “Well, that's unfortunate to hear.” The calm in your voice surprises you, “Even though I did not meet her in person, but Lady Rhea was an honourable lady of the Vale, such brave woman is quite irreplaceable.”

“Oh, I beg to differ, my lady.” The mischief in her voice unnerves you, “You are taking her place now, as your prince husband is to inherit her castle in Runestone since they didn't produce heirs together.”

Your eyes fixate on her face, she makes no effort to hide her brazen expression. You fall silent for a moment, shaking your head a tad.

“I did hold respect to my husband's wife indeed, Lady Lynesse.” Your green eyes glower at her fiercely and the shiver of her frame doesn't go unnoticed by you. “But it seems as though the people of the south do not have the ability to distinct gold from bronze, as I clearly see.”

The face she makes is priceless; you allow yourself to grin. “Now, if you'll excuse me, Lady Hightower.”

You spin rather adroitly as your eyes roam the room, looking for your husband. You find him still dancing with Lady Laena. However, your eyes lock for a moment and he smiles at you, but you do not return it. Instead, you tear your face aside with a slight scowl on your face.

You wobble towards the King, a hand on your belly. You dip your head in courtesy and asks for his leave to retire to your chambers and rest. They express worry about you, but you brush it off, telling them it's but normal tiredness.

Spinning around, you face the solid chest of your husband.

“Is something the matter, love?”

“No, nothing is the matter, husband.” You hiss through gritted teeth.

“Your Lady wife is a tad tired, Daemon.” The King's interjects, “Do escort her to have some rest.”

Daemon glances at his brother then at you. “Of course, brother.”

Your short trip to your chambers is silent. However, the instant you're in your bedchamber, alone, your husband demands, “What happened, love?”

You sit on your bed, sighing. “Nothing requires your concern, my lord. Seemed the babe didn't like rowdy places, that's all.”

Daemon clicks his tongue. “If I didn't know better, I'd say our child is giving you a hard time.” He stands right before you, tipping your chin up with his fingertips. “Tell me what that bitch said to cause you such distress?”

You press your lips into thin line. “Was it your intention to keep me in the dark regarding your first wife's demise, Daemon?”

“Yes, but it reached your ears, nonetheless.” He clicks his tongue again, unamused.

“Why would you do such thing?”

“Her death was a tragic one, and knowing your sensitivity that is increased by the pregnancy, I had no choice but to conceal the fact away from you. I did not wish it to affect on you or our child.”

“They're whispering that you did it.” You mutter.

He gives you a vague grin. “And you believe them?”

“No, but...”

“But what?”

His eyes don't leave yours, probing and studying. You drop your head down and fall silent. Daemon kneels before you briskly, taking your agitating hands in his. His violet eyes are gazing up at you, more softly this time.

“But what, darling?” He rumbles.

You sigh. “We've been married for six years now, Daemon. And the court has yet to accept me as your lawful wife.”

“But the lioness doesn't consider the sheep's opinions, darling, neither does the dragon.” He says tenderly, wringing your hands fondly.

“I know, but imagine how it would influence on our child when it's born.” You tear up, “They're already calling it names...”

That kindles a fire in his eyes. “Anyone dares to insult our child, I shall rip their tongues out with my own hands.”

“Daemon, please I can't take this any longer,” You sob, “I work each day to prove to everyone that I'm fitted to be a royal consort but...”

He shushes you gently, and brings your hands to his mouth. Daemon kisses your knuckles ever so softly then glances up at you. Rough fingers are barely touching your face, brushing your tears away.

“You're more than fitted, my lady,” He says in whisper, “You're my fierce lioness, love of my life, my one and only wife, and I wouldn't have it any other way.”

Through your blurred vision, you let a smile slip. “I'd find my way to you.”

He gives you a smile of his own, “I know you would.” He laughes before taking your lips in a kiss. A sudden urge, a sudden need sweep over your body, and you find yourself cling to your husband's shoulders.

A deep chuckle rumbles through his chest as he rises on his feet. You look at him in awe and gulp. “Aren't we supposed to return to the feast, husband?”

“Fuck the feast. They're fine on their own,” Daemon replies, voice is thick and deep as he takes off his black, leather jerkin.

You open your mouth to retort, but whatever you have to say is swallowed by his kiss. “I've craved to fuck you the moment I saw you in this gown.”

You lay on your back as his hands guid your shoulders back into the sheets. He scramble your red skirts up, and your body quiver when Daemon caresses your very swollen belly with utmost tenderness. He trails smooth kisses on the stretched skin, then you both feel it, the babe's kick.

Daemon lets an amused chuckle, “Look who's thrilled too.”

Your body vibrates as you giggle, “Gods, I can already tell it's as incorrigible as you are.” You laugh again.

“The gods have tossed their coin.”

Daemon slips your undergarments, and your wet cunt is bare to his burning eyes. He settles your knees on his shoulders as he leans down.

Already overwhelmed, a loud moan tears out of your throat as the tip of his tongue brushes the hood of your clit. He kisses the bud, and his lips are softer than silk.

“Daemon... Daemon... Daemon...”

Your hand comb through his white locks, toes curling, while his tongue is making the most obscene, wet noises with your cunt.

Your breathing grows short, as you beg him for a release. His tongue slips inside of you and your walls collapse.

He leaves you shuddering and stirring in the sheets, giving you some time to recover as he wriggles out of his red tunic, and black trousers, sliding his boots off.

When you sober up from your high, you witness his lithe physique. Muscled and toned from years of training and battles, all in the right places. Your eyes wander his figure down until they perch on his hardened cock.

He glimpses at it then at you, smirking widely at your amazed eyes. “It's all yours, my lady.”

He helps you with your dress, until you're naked before him. Daemon tells you to let the jewelleries on. He loves it when you're naked but adorned to devour you with his unquenchable eyes.

Your husband kisses the crown of your head before he arranges the pillows for you. Once done, he ushers you to be on all four, the pillows holding the weight of your belly. He mounts you from behind and slips through your warm folds. He grunts, and his eyes are closed in full ecstasy.

At first, his rhythm is slow and leisure, but he loses control in no time when plunged deeply in your welcoming cunt. His hands don't leave you neglected as he caress and fondle your skin ever so delicately. Within few minutes you feel another release building at the tip of your stomach.

“Gods, Daemon!” Your soft, whiney mewls are music to his ears, “Oh, gods!”

You feel his large hands cradling your head, your golden mane messy between his fingers, until he decides to snap your head aside. Through ecstasy, and erratic breathing, you see your husband moving your hair from your face as he dips lower until his sweet breath slams your hot face.

“I'm your god,” He grumbles deeply.

You nod vehemently and he holds you to his chest, an arm breath your stomach and the other hand grabbing your head.

“Say it...” He whispers hoarsely in your ear, a command, an order, ramming his hips to yours.

“You're my one and only god, Daemon!” You moan loudly, “Oh, my god, my Daemon, please!”

Your god makes love to you, worship you, until beautiful tears of joy streaming down your cheeks. He takes you several times before your stamina wears out. And when your finished you don't bother to clean up. You two just savour in the the delightful aura surrounding you both.

Your head is resting on his chest, while your legs are tangled, as his hand is twirling and playing with your golden locks, whereas your fingers are tracing random patterns on his breast.

“Lys.” You hear him say.

You tip your head up, and your emeralds meet his amethysts. “What?”

“How about we go to Lys?” He gazes down at you, “I doubt this court or any other part of the Seven Kingdoms would be a suitable place to raise a child. In Lys we can live—”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” You respond immediately. “I can't ask for a better place, my love. It's the most beautiful out of the free cities, and the blood of Old Valyria still runs through its people.”

During your adventures with your husband on his Caraxes, Lys, the Perfumed Sister, was the city which captured your heart. And currently, you do not mind living in Flea Bottom if it meant being away from all the courtiers and everyone else. Furthermore, you can embark on trade business there, and live with your husband and future children a generous life away from the toxic fuss of the palace.

“It's settled then.” Daemon declares, kissing your lips, “Once you deliver our child, we shall be off to Lys.”

“Yes!” You kiss him again.

You set your head against his chest again, his heart drumming loudly against your ear. He's as excited as you are, and perhaps more. You both are enthralled for your next glory.

#daemon x reader #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader #prince daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen headcanon #daemon targaryen x you #daemon targaryen x y/n #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen fic #daemon targaryen smut #daemon targaryen fanfic #syrma writes

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megamilfluvr · 9 months

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Headcanons about Kate

These are just a few things I personally deem as headcanon about Kate, after rewatching and analyzing her interactions and personality traits. Please remember that this is just my perception of her. If you have anything you consider to be headcanon about Kate let me know.

- likes being playful and teases you a lot

- leans against EVERYTHING (example: doors, counters, couches, tables. hell, she’d probably even lean against you if you let her lmao)

- manspreads. always. (if you ask why she sits that way she’ll tell you “i don’t know. it’s just comfortable,” and you know what i can’t argue that)

- can’t sit straight. (if you find her sitting properly, it’s probably because of a formal gathering or a meeting)

- likes stealing kisses from you (you could be sitting, standing, laying down it doesn’t matter she’ll still manage to steal one from you. AND ITS ADORABLE)

- randomly does something that only makes sense to her and just confuses you (things like her leaving a half empty cup ramen with tinfoil over it and her explanation? “what? i was in a hurry to leave.”)

- always wears socks

- loves cereal, specifically Frosted Flakes

- can accurately shoot up to five arrows at the same time

- loves to spoil you

- sometimes likes to splurge on perfumes (she’s not big on jewelry but fragrances? absolutely.)

- has a spacific playlist for working out

- made a playlist for you

- can’t take care of live plants, so she buys fake ones (she just doesn’t have a green thumb. any greenery you see in her apartment or dorm isn’t real lmao)

- loves target

- tried to hit the target logo with a plunger arrow (this is very on brand for kate)

- somehow burned water??? (we’ve established that she can’t cook multiple times by almost burning the apartment down. the one time the apartment burned, wasn’t her fault, but still kinda was lmao)

- collects squishmallows (she definitely buys the 24 inch squishmallows)

- if she doesn’t get her way she’ll start cutely pouting

- gets flustered when you’ve out rizzed her

- loves to act cocky around you (whatever you do don’t challenge her to a game of fencing, she wins. she’ll let that go to her head lmao)

- loves going to the movie theater with you

- gets excited to get a slushy and popcorn

- when she talks about you to someone she gets shy

- mumbles stuff under her breath (when she was talking with yelena in episode 6 she’s LITERALLY doing it. “yeah, i know what box mac n cheese tastes like, okay? i know it’s- i know it’s delicious.”)

- she’s insecure about her rambling but you always reassure her that it’s fine and you’re listening

- she’s spent too much money on a gaming pc

- only owns a pair of boots (it doesn’t matter what she’s wearing, she’s going to wear her boots even if it’s a dress)

- super clumsy (somehow in the field she’s good at not being clumsy, but oh my god she’ll make your blood pressure spike 100%)

- always thinks outside of the box (it's impressive how quickly she thinks on her feet)

- is surprisingly calm under certain serious situations (i mean she took down men double her size running right at her, i’d panic and run the opposite direction)

- doesn’t give up easily which results in her being stubborn sometimes

- you having to remind her to shut up or low her voice in very quiet places (you could be on a mission with her and a few others and she just randomly “hey, did you see that tiktok i sent you this morning?” “SHHH, is now really the time for that?”)

- will send unhinged texts at worse time (you’re both in a debriefing and she’ll just text something like, “okay, so hear me out… we kidnap him.” “what?! no. kate we’re not about to steal rocket!”)

- loves sending memes (that’s literally all of her tiktok fyp)

- ALWAYS LOSES HER APARTMENT KEYS (someone give this girl a tile… you know what she would also end up losing that too lmao)

- loves ring but ends up losing them

- has a matching arrow necklace with you (again, she doesn’t wear rings much since she’s always losing them, so she’d go with a bracelet or necklace)

- loves hats, hoodies and sweatpants (after seeing that one picture of hailee wear her hawkeye hat, it’s headcanon for kate)

- still somehow makes you laugh even when you’re upset with her

- it doesn’t matter what time of day it is, when she’s been assigned a mission. she’ll always make time to video chat with you

edited: i’ve proofread this like three times, if there’s still typos or anything just ignore them lmao

#kate bishop #kate bishop fanfiction #kate bishop x reader #kate bishop x fem!reader #kate bishop imagine #kate bishop x you #hawkeye kate bishop #hailee steinfeld

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mysteryanimator · 24 days

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I love your animations, but I'm still struggling to view them without thinking about their last canon interaction. Can you tell me what you envision their makeup would be like?

(Lol I’m so sorry to all the ppl who work on Nocturne reading this 💀 and just generally everyone)

Thank you so much that means a lot! But now, you’ve unveiled my trap card and given me an excuse to write my thoughts on Mizrak and Olrox, so this will get pretty long. Also, this may end up being very subjective/personal taste in some parts so I hope everyone doesn’t mind (and hope you don't mind the funky grammar!) This is an open discussion too, I’d like to hear everyone’s thoughts!

Now with that out of the way here we go!

(This is old unfinished storyboards for a previous iteration of their makeup scene I did back in jan, never finished them due to uni/another project, I'd like to someday tho because guh the themes.)

Now first of all, I’d like to think that a proper makeup/conversation wouldn’t happen for a bit and would be drawn out because they’re both still hurt, angry, sad, and confused at not only each other but themselves. They’re not the type to get into loud verbal arguments for this, definitely some verbal jabs at each other though. Mean petty comments, oh absolutely. I’d like to personally believe they’d still yearn for each other, perhaps even more so after Olrox indirectly confessed and Mizrak practically turned it down.

Now, there are soooo many different ways that they’d even see each other again, many different ways it could come to that initial point where they’ve made up. Though I’ll go with one of my personal idea (which people keep egging me on to animate WHICH… I dunno I don’t have free time rn so I’m just blurting it out into written format while I can 😭 I want to though, maybe later in the year for fun if season 2 doesn’t beat me to it).

Have to establish my vision, but I’d think that Richter, Maria, Annette, Alucard and Mizrak are hopping from abandoned town to abandoned town due to the inability to return to Macheoul for the time being. While Olrox has been on his own (doing what, I’m not even sure my personal headcanon for this.) I think Alucard and Mizrak have a conversation about Alucard’s past in a group setting and it strikes a chord with the monk- since after all, Alucard’s dad is THE Dracula, and his mother (bless her, I miss her) is human. You know how that whole backstory goes, and it parallels Olrox a lot. Also Mizrak and Annette will absolutely have a deep conversation too. Just solely from the comment that was made:

“We’re all descended from gods, we just have to learn how to draw their power.” Nocturne s1 ep 2

Annette clearly having powers from Haitian gods, absolutely challenging how Mizrak was only certain of one God. Yes, Mizrak is extremely stubborn and it will take him a bit, but he’s different from the Abott in the sense that he will not let religion blind his path to good. He ‘uses his head’ as said before, not god, not the church- his head. Mizrak’s idea of the church and his faith is now a mess and it’s up to him on how he interprets it and rewrites it knowing what he knows now (this is important I swear when it comes to the makeup scene).

Now we’re at the actual scene at hand: Olrox and Mizrak making up.

Side note: oh god I’m practically writing this whole thing as if its going to be played out for an episode, but that’s how it works in my brain LOL but you asked so you shall receive. I am so sorry HAHA

There’s been a lot of build up from this point where they have been meeting up here and there by themselves, but you can clearly tell whenever they do they both hurt and yearn- which would lead to their proper makeup scene. I’m just inserting this for fun, but I’d imagine this would take place in an abandoned church in the town they’re camping in for the night. For a lot of symbolic reasons; devotion, sacrifice, forgiveness, gathering. This along with the simple fact, Mizrak’s relationship to the church has changed completely from here. I’d like to think that even when he’s trying to rekindle that connection with God, it leaves that icky overcoat on his skin.

“Faith is a company in the hardest of times, when the world abandons you.” Nocturne ep 3

The church indeed had saved him from whatever terrible horrific thing happened to him in the past, however whatever saved him can still be horrible and terrible too. It is infallible. It is cruel in an attempt to gather community and peace. So, yes- faith can be company when the world abandoned him, but his faith is no longer with the church. He’s taking it back and finding some place else to rest it. (Olrox, it’s Olrox, probably ooc but I’m making it Olrox).

In this church, the conversation between them will initially start as a discussion about religion, faith and that whole sort of deal. It’ll open up about Mizrak exact struggles from his mouth and how he particularly feels about it, then we get more insight onto Olrox’s thoughts, his perception of the church and perhaps even a deep dive into Aztec history again. Maybe even talk about Olrox’s Quetzalcoatl form, though really this is self indulgent. It’s an aspect I’d absolutely love to be explored and I think it being discussed in revere in a Catholic Church, with Mizrak actually being open to it due to his new perspective? Oh my god, sign me up. Regardless, it would hold similar energy to episode 6: Gulity Men to be Judged. There’s a weight to it.

Then it gets heavier when the conversation pivots.

Mizrak’s attachment in the church was due to him caring about people and, hypothetically, to save him from whatever detriment came for him in the past. The last canon interaction, their falling out they had in season 1 was because he cared about others. To a fault. Now, here he is, standing in front of someone he cares about. It’s going to open a conversation between what’s happening between them and finally properly discuss what happened from their last canon interaction in nocturne season 1.

A lot of finger and hand brushing from Olrox, which at first I’d think gets no reaction as an attempt for restraint before Mizrak warms up to it and even reciprocates by doing the same thing. All of this is very gentle in my opinion. It’s slow, tender, and most importantly vulnerable. It has the physical contact reminiscent of their first fast rough and tug in the courtyard and piggybacks off the vulnerability they both have when they both stand next to the window in episode 6. They probably also just physically get closer to each other at the moment. Just gradually though. The distance gets closer and closer until their foreheads are practically touching without them realizing it. They’re comfortable though, they don’t want to leave.

They absolutely get to a point where they both admit to saying “I love you” without straight up saying “I love you” because that’s just a very them thing. Or maybe they do straight up state because Olrox does admit he was in love (with his partner) and doesn’t shy from that fact. It’s a nice conversion of the trope and great to hear from a mlm couple to say I love you… but man do I do love when characters get all poetic-y when their profess their devotion to each other by literally talking in prose, so maybe with good writing both can be done and still be quite powerful but still be gentle.

In my interpretation YEAH I’LL MAKE THEM KISS AFTER THIS, this is my vision after all. Also, yeah they’re gonna fuck. In the church? Perhaps. Is it a tad OOC, maybe. HOWEVER, consider imagery and symbolism. I just think the image of it would be great, even if it was censored to hell and back, it can be so artistically done. Just imagine the implication alone with me for a second. I think the whole concept of doing it in a church is an interesting build upon the quotes from the show;

“God is not here. This church is an empty box.” From the first Castlevania series.

“House of God? This place is just a heap of bricks and stone.” From Nocturne said by Maria.

The church is a husk, especially having it abandoned- it’s rather what you do with that box that makes all the difference. The people inside are the driving force, so I think it’s both poetic and funny to have Mizrak and Olrox fucking in an abandoned church. Surface level: fuck you god I’m fucking my hot vampire boyfriend in your house. Deeper level: I could write a whole thing on this but I’ll refrain. You can get the gist of breaking free of restraint, and devotion and letting himself be human, rather than a soldier (which he already slowly does).

Though also this sex scene isn’t necessary, I just like exploring explicit content in artistic ways, especially if I can throw in religious symbols and heighten that hunger/devotion to a person- but the “I love you” in the church is pretty powerful already.

Then after all of this they take it at their own pace. However, they only live life once and continue together like that- they both know this concept very well because of the very nature of who they are, so they spend it in each other’s company.

Now you also get the squad’s reactions, well namely because I do not think this would be an easily hidden thing. Like absolutely could get away with it in season 1, but everyone will know something is up for sure in my iteration. The 'hypothetical' Mystery Animator season 2 iteration. As subtle as their longing stares and quiet hand touches may be reserved for just them- those little interactions are loud.

Richter would absolutely be in shambles over Olrox, the killer of his mother, and Mizrak being a thing. Both in a “this is the most horrible thing that’s happened in my life” and also a he’s going to be an absolute shithead to Mizrak and make fun of him, lightheartedly of course. Alucard would absolutely have an interesting perspective because again, his parents. Maria already has disdain for the church plus the “vampires are evil… and evil has to be fought.” However, in the presence of Alucard, I think a lot will change because he’s half-vampire. Annette, I’m unsure of what her reaction would be, because I’m very sure she’d be receptive to Alucard being a vampire and then would appreciate Olrox’s mindset and values. However, gonna keep hammering, Olrox killed Julia Belmont which I feel will be comedically hammered in if Olrox decides to hang around the squad occasionally.

And with that, we’re done! (I think)

Thank you for reading 🫶 this probably will not happen in cv s2 but it’s fun blurting out my hc. I’m really excited to see what they do, and even perhaps even go in the opposite direction due to episode limitations… maybe a season 3 👀 who knows.

#castlevania nocturne #olrox/mizrak #mizrox #castlevania olrox #mizrak #olrox #castlevania #vampire #holy shit this is long #castlevania fanart #im sooooo normal you guys #tf you mean this is 2k words #is this techincally a thesis? a character essay?#literally posting and closing my eyes #grammar might be shit but guys I have a vision #headcannon #dont percieve me

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gayanimebitches · 5 months

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ok. migi & dali opening. i am going to talk about it now.

throughout the opening we see so many Things. the entire series up until the second to last episode, i hadn't paid that close attention to it because god that song is a banger and honestly i was more focused on the music than the animation, despite being captivated by it every episode. but that episode for some reason. i paid more attention that time and had some Realizations.

one question i've had every single time the opening has played has been "why does one of them take the cherry pie and the other does not?" throughout the opening the two of them are seen doing the same things, effectively mirroring each other, which makes sense considering it was most of the plot for the first few episodes, so i really didn't think about it too much. but with that pattern established, it's extremely strange when, at the end, one of them strays from the shared course of action to take one of the slices of cherry pie that's sitting on the chairs.

another thing i noticed when i actually paid attention was that the one in the shadows in all their activities is always dali.

and if that's not enough, we have this shot of migi and dali as sun and moon respectively, and i think we all have enough media literacy to understand the implications of that.

then we have this shot of them, showing migi floating higher and dali sinking lower.

all of these screenshots to say that the opening animation tells us exactly what the series, or at least the part that the anime currently covers, is about at its core. we see it in the series time and time again as these two try to make their way through the world.

migi is portrayed in the series as somewhat childish, frequently to a fault - generally more hopeful in what he believes, which shows in his actions and the way he interacts with others in a genuine way. dali is severe and bitter, much more driven by the idea of getting revenge for their mother, seemingly just for the sake of it at this point, and being willing to do it at any cost because he doesn't value anything other than his brother.

migi sees the good in things and, while still helping dali with their shared goal, is genuinely enjoying his life with this family and in this town. dali, on the other hand, is dedicating everything he has to their goal, not caring or bothering to invest any part of himself into anything else. (this is portrayed also by migi being in the light, enjoying the activities he's doing, and dali being in the shadows, spending all his time trying to solve their mystery.)

this conflict of priority between them results in the fight they have in episode 9. a showdown between hope and despair, over a bike in a river, all as a result of migi's off-comment about wanting to eat cherry pie again.

and now the bike. they state this explicitly in the dialogue, but it's the first gift migi has ever gotten. so when dali throws it in, he does not hesitate even a little bit to jump in and get it. the bike is meaningless to dali - just another thing to toss and discard for the sake of moving forward. he gives up on everything so easily because he never bothered getting attached in the first place. he's so quickly ready to abandon anything and everything aside from migi. there's no way that he can be happy like that and migi knows that. migi is all he has and they both know that.

the jealousy he expresses is just jealousy that migi is able to find happiness and value in things other than him while he's unable to do the same, as a result of his bitterness and his fixation on finding their mother's killer. he's jealous that migi is growing closer to other people and making connections that are important enough to him that he's not willing to just throw them away with the toss of a bike.

so he takes his brother down. he forces his head underwater, and asks if he's still thinking about that cherry pie (THIS LINE IS SO FUCKING GOOD!!!!!!!!!!!). he tries to drag migi down with him into his own despair, tries to convince migi that his beloved cherry pie isn't really all that important. that it's not worth as much as migi's acting like it is.

he tries to literally beat the hope out of migi. he is so desperate to be hopeless that he beats the shit out of his brother over and over about it.

but, of course, that would never be enough to stop him.

and we're back to the cherry pie. dali finally caves and agrees to go back and try to sort things out, not because it's what he thinks is best for their safety, but because it's what migi wants for his happiness. he realizes that he'll only continue to hurt migi if he pushes his own cynicism on him and forces him to leave everything behind, since he had the guts to get attached. even though dali doesn't really understand the value of the cherry pie, he sees how much it matters to his brother. he sees his resolve to experience those small moments of happiness again.

the cherry pie is taken from migi's side of the shot.

throughout the entire story, migi has been the one to see the value in the simple things, like taking walks with the dog, having friends to hang out with and do wacky bird shit with, riding a bike, and eating cherry pie together. he is not afraid to experience joy and is willing to fight for it, for both him and his brother, even if his brother doesn't see the value in it quite yet.

migi will see the good in things. he will have hope for the future. and he will take the cherry pie.

#migi & dali #migi to dali #migi and dali #felt like such a dork writing that last section #BUT I LOVE THIS SHOW AND THE THINGS IT SAYS TO U #I LOVE U THEMES AND MESSAGES #me: i should go to sleep #my brain: u should write up a tumblr analysis post abt this anime opening and the significance of its shots in relation to the series theme #me: ok #the way i hit the image limit and had to get rid of some #ARE U STILL THINKING ABOUT THAT CHERRY PIE IS SUCH A GOOD LINE U GUYS #could prob write a whole nother post abt dalis reluctance to let himself get attached to things #and his at any cost mindset and how it hurts migi thruout the series #but.#might get a little too personal xo so maybe i wont #I LOVE U HOPE VS DESPAIR THEMES #ok anyway #god #this took me 2 hrs to type up and gather screenshots for #ANYWAY TIME TO GO TO SLEEP #ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ #meta

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