about simon’s social media plotline
instead of deleting it, why didn’t simon just temporarily deactivate his instagram/make a private account?
all season, simon has been trying to find workarounds to his worsening situation when it comes to outside pressures and an increasingly stifling environment. he tries to find ways to still be himself and have some sense of freedom, even with all the criticism and negativity being hurled his way.
he’s hit with a barrage of hate comments everywhere? fine. he’ll reply to some of them, just to make sure that everyone gets a sense of who he really is. but he soon finds that when he does so, he’s only met with even more hatred and people coming for his throat. and wille himself tells him replying will only make things worse, so he should try to refrain from doing so.
okay, then. he might not be able to directly comment and tell the world who he is and how all of this is making him feel, but he can show them. so he uploads the video of him singing, the thing he loves most in the world, and he expresses himself through that original song. but that doesn’t work either, and wille tells that simon shouldn’t be posting those things on social media because they can easily be misinterpreted and cause harmful speculations and media attention. and to make things worse, there’s a whole new barrage of hate comments, this time leaning into more sinister territory.
but simon is not going to give up so easily— even if tons of people online are telling him that he’s a golddigger and pathetic and chasing fame, he knows that those aren’t his intentions. he’s with wille because he loves him, and he’s not looking for fame or wealth out of it. and all simon wants out of life is to make some positive change in the world. so of course he can’t help himself when he adds himself to the post of the picture he took with the younger boy who looks up to him. he’s hopeful and a little giddy about it all, because he is making a change. he is helping and inspiring others. he wants to share that with others.
and then simon goes home to find that an anonymous stranger has thrown a rock through his window, into his house.
simon loves his family dearly. he would do anything for them. and someone he likely doesn’t even know hated him enough to threaten his family’s safety, his mother’s safety, by finding his house and breaking the window with the rock. being harassed on social media and in person by reporters fucking sucks, but in simon’s mind, at least that’s only affecting him. but this? this is too far. this is his family, and they’re unintentional targets now, too. they aren’t even safe in their own home anymore, where they’ve lived in the last fourteen years.
so when jan olof and farima come by and tell simon to delete his social media accounts for his own safety— not temporarily deactivate, not make private, specifically delete— simon does it. because private accounts and deactivations are workarounds, and to simon, workarounds have only made things worse. it’s not just him on the line anymore, it’s his family and safety and his relationship with wille altogether, so he does exactly what the royal court says and deletes his accounts. workarounds just aren’t worth it.
okay, but why is deleting his instagram account such a big deal? he can always make a new one, so why does it matter?
one of the first times that we get a deeper look into who simon is, not coincidentally, through the contents of his instagram account! when wille is lurking on simon’s profile, we get a solid introduction into the key aspects and people in simon’s life. he he has two best friends who he adores, he loves his sister and his mother, and even his bio says “music makes my world go round”.
but looking past that aspect for now, we also get to see who simon is outside of social media and these close relationships: he’s very outspoken, doesn’t let others silence him (even in his very first scene, he sings louder when vincent makes fun of him), is unafraid to call others out on their bullshit and has strong values that he’s quick to share.
but throughout season three, as simon is faced with more and more pressure and cruelty on behalf of the public and royal court, he starts losing himself. he finds that singing isn’t as enjoyable anymore, he becomes quieter and quieter. he initially fights back when he feels that the royal court is being unreasonable, like when he was first told by wille about being careful on social media, but eventually just reaches a point where he stops and just takes it. he ends up going against his own values just for the sake of not fighting with wille during the sit-in, despite clearly being bothered by it. and of course, this isn’t helped by the fact that he’s not on speaking terms with sara again until much later and his relationship with his mom is strained until mid-season, so a integral part of his support system isn’t able to help him until he was a little too deep into all this.
so looking back at the social media aspect, simon deleting his instagram accounts is the nail in the coffin. he publicly displays his unabashed love for his family, friends, and music through his posts, all of which are essential to his sense of self and who he is as a person, and we see him literally delete it all. this drives home the point that simon is deleting himself, and marks one of his lowest points in terms of losing and changing himself to try and fit into a space that will never be made for someone like him. square peg in a circular hole.
so yes, realistically, simon deleting instagram is a sad thing to see, although not necessarily earth-shattering. but metaphorically? it’s everything.
why were there only hate comments? sweden is very progressive in terms of queer rights and social acceptance, so it couldn’t have been that bad.
of course, i can’t speak for lisa and the rest of the team, but i feel that this was an intentional detail. because the truth is, there probably weren’t only hate comments! we even see the initial response after simon posts the clip of him singing, and it’s positive.
but as an overall society, we tend to take criticism harder than we do compliments. you likely don’t remember that one time last week where a stranger complimented your hair or outfit or handwriting, whatever it may be, but you probably do remember the last time someone told you that your efforts weren’t enough. you probably remember the last time you got a bad review or a bad grade on something you tried hard on, or when someone made fun of your interests. and speaking as a teenager, i can confirm that this is a huge thing to us as well— we want to be accepted and complimented, we want to be wanted, and when we aren’t, it feels like it’s the end of the world.
so of course simon would take all those disgusting comments to heart. anyone would, especially when they haven’t had any time to prepare for it. so as more and more hate comments roll in, it’s harder to pay attention to the positivity that may also be there. from simon’s point of view, the hate is everywhere and too much to ignore, so that’s what we get to see. we see criticism and threats and people being mean, because those are the responses and the view that affect simon the most.
tldr; simon deleted his instagram because he felt that using another workaround in deactivation/private acc would be a risk, it’s a big deal because by literally deleting his social media the writers show that simon is deleting himself, and there’s mostly hate comments because through simon’s pov those are the ones that are the most impactful.
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see you in the morning
pairing: io laithe / estinien varlineau
word count: 2k
note: endwalker spoilers. io is not handling things well :') you'll never guess who goes to comfort her :o)
Old Sharlayan holds its breath.
Most nights, the chilly island city continues its quiet bustling straight through to morning. Scholars drift from early-evening lectures to late-night research clubs or public laboratories, babbling excitedly about the latest research, innovation, or gossip. Those with less rigid schedules wander to the nearest patch of grass or unused table at the Last Stand with a pile of books in tow. Structured or lax, their perpetual search for knowledge is the very heartbeat of the city. But tonight, the pulse has all but stopped.
The lack of bubbling chatter and foot traffic casts an eerie pall over the city. It reaches all the way down to Scholars’ Harbour, where Io sits alone, on one of the long stone piers reaching out into the sea.
Thousands of people huddle in their homes with friends and loved ones as they wait for daylight, and for the Ragnarok’s first–and only–flight.
The weight of their expectation is suffocating.
Waves murmur against the stone below, the only sound save the few foreign sailors on the next pier over, bound to their work regardless of the state of the world. Neither is loud enough to distract her racing mind.
Io pulls her knees to her chest, cursing the inability to become as small as she feels. Every soul on this star, whether they know it or not, is now her responsibility, an obligation that echoes back to a time beyond time. And she chose it. Before she even knew it was her burden to carry, she chose it. She chooses it, because who else would? Who else could bear it? Is it not enough that her loved ones must sacrifice so much due to proximity and circumstance? It has to be her, for she would not wish this on anyone else.
If only she could curl into herself completely. Tightly enough to blink out of existence, like a dark singularity.
She’d take everything else with her.
There’s no resolution in that line of thinking.
Somewhere out there, in the expanse, is the replication of a little girl with a very human soul–perhaps not fractured, as the souls of those on the Source and its shards, but something that was never allowed to be whole. Why wouldn’t annihilation be Meteion’s answer to dead world after dead world? It must seem like kindness to a being who has never experienced adversity.
Tears, injury, death: Io has suffered through–and dealt–her fair share of them all. What pain has Meteion seen that Io has not lived?
Her hands ball into fists, nails digging into her palms. She feels manic, unable to rein in the oscillation between anger, guilt, and fear. There is the urge to scream, or cry, or drop into the frigid water below and swim and swim and swim.
But a figure moves at the edge of her vision, walking briskly in her direction.
Now another feeling begs to be acknowledged. Relief? Endearment? A mixture of both at being found, and by him, perhaps.
Still, against her threadbare senses, this feels like an ambush.
Estinien says nothing as he approaches. His steps slow as if trying not to scare a wounded animal. He offers an awkward smile. Io tries to mirror it, hoping he sees a shred of warmth in the tight purse of her lips.
He is handsome in this light, in his half-laced boots and untucked shirt billowing in the chilly coastal wind. The world is ending, and she can’t help noticing his beauty. It’s ludicrous.
“Who sent you?”
His short huff resembles a laugh. “I need a motive to check on you?” When she doesn’t answer, he sighs. “Y’shtola saw you down here from the Annex. She and Thancred thought to come, but I asked them to stay. Everyone’s turning in for the night. I thought you might appreciate the less intrusive option.”
“By all means, intrude. Once the solitude is broken, it hardly matters by whom.”
His brow knits as he studies the carved stones that make up the pier. He turns, shifting his weight. She can feel him wondering if this was unwise.
“I’m sorry, that was unkind. I’m just… overwhelmed–” Io takes a deep breath, embarrassed by the confession before she makes it– “and afraid. Please don’t go.”
Estinien sways in her periphery, stepping closer before squatting beside her. He looks out into the quiet marina, carefully avoiding her half-slumped form. False privacy, but she’ll take the small mercy.
“You needed to get away. I can understand that.”
“I couldn’t breathe in there. Everyone is watching me. They look at me like I’m dying, or like I’m killing them myself.”
“For every person placing blame at your feet, ten others believe in this asinine plan. As I do.”
“You think we can do it? Truly?” she asks, looking up into the great expanse. The stars blink against the endless blue, and for once, the sight makes her feel cold instead of curious. “What if I–”
“You have to, Io.” His tone invites no debate, but there is a melancholy that matches her own. “You will figure it out no matter the cost, because you must.”
Io nods. Her eyes sting. She closes them to keep the tears at bay as long as possible. He is right, of course. Somewhere deep in her soul, the flame of her faith–in herself, in her friends, and in those who paved this way for her–burns as brightly as ever. She has to save them.
“But you will not be alone. We are with you, of course. We’ll give our all to see it through, if that’s what it takes.”
“Gambling your lives for a promise I made, for my mistakes… I can’t bear to think about losing them.” She risks a glance in Estinien’s direction, but his eyes never leave the gently rolling sea. “Or losing you.”
The barest of smiles, one of the little ones he tries to hide with a bowed head. He rubs the back of his neck, sending a cascade of loose hair over his shoulder.
Her chest clenches.
The well of affection she holds for him is muddy these days; for years, they’ve operated with platonic, amiable ease, flitting in and out of each other’s lives but always reuniting as the closest of friends. But since her time in the First, they have been nearly inseparable.
Estinien is her family, but unlike what she feels for Thancred, Urianger, or G’raha, he is not her brother. He evokes a distinct tenderness, gives life to a long-dormant, selfish hope within her heart, and he does it without trying.
“If we don’t try, all is lost.” He falls against the stone with a quiet groan and nudges her with an elbow. “This pessimism doesn’t become you. I have seen you stand against tremendous odds time and time again. I’ve heard tales of more things than I’ve seen. You may not always get it right, I may not always agree, but you do the impossible. What makes this any different?”
Io reflects on the past year (gods, has it been that long?). The burning skies, the horrible transformations, and the aether-depleted souls who will never see another lifetime on this beautiful star, all because she fell for a madman’s power play. She condemned them to this fate.
She reaches further into her memory, to the unsure adventurer stepping foot into the Waking Sands, and her induction into the inner circle of these secretive upstarts she’s grown to call family. She’s been nothing more than a curse upon them. Thancred’s aether, Y’shtola’s sight, Urianger’s conscience, Minfilia’s life. What might they have avoided without her?
Haurchefant would be alive if she had stayed out of his life.
Since the day she left Dalmasca, death and destruction have been her shadow. As ruinous and loyal as Dalamud, a black dog she pretends she can abandon if only it would forget her scent.
She watches Estinien again, silver in the moonlight. His hands are clasped, hanging between long legs that dangle close to the water below. Like the water, he looks relaxed on the surface. Like the water, there is an undercurrent only the experienced can see.
His thumb worries a circle into the palm of his other hand. His shoulders are tense, hidden by his slightly curved posture. If anyone could understand why this is different, it’s him. For all his courage, he has seen the black dog too.
“It’s different,” Io swallows, “because it’s everything.”
Estinien looks back. His stare is hard. “And so are you.”
Once more, he leaves no room for debate. He speaks as if stating the obvious, citing a fact she should already know.
Io blinks, so awestruck by his candor, she has to look away. Her tumultuous thoughts now spin in his direction, unable to focus on more than this sudden vulnerability. What does it mean that sharing these doubts with him is the most comfortable she’s felt in days? What does it mean that she aches to reach for his hand?
His eyes dart over her face, never lingering on one feature too long. There is something overly controlled about it. Lately, she has employed the same tactic when trying not to stare at his lips…
If she leaned over and kissed him, would he push her away? Could they still be friends?
A selfish hope indeed. But a small thing in her mind whispers, “maybe after…”
If there is an “after” to be had.
She releases her bundled limbs and stands, stretching to relieve the long-ignored ache in her back.
“Come on,” she beckons. “We should at least try to rest before we travel to the edge of space and time.”
Io’s tension deflates as they walk to the annex, pressed under the weight of her exhaustion. They go in comfortable silence, half an arm’s length apart. There is something between them she longs to touch, but doesn’t dare. She has the moonlight in his hair, his half-smile, and his steadfast faith in her. That is enough.
That is more than enough.
The Baldesion Annex is dark, like the rest of the city. The lobby is empty. Not an Annex attendant, not a Scion. Estinien does not share her surprise. How persuasive must he have been to ensure no one disturbed her return? Io watches him move across the room with deliberate steps. He holds open the door that leads to the nap rooms and gestures with his head for her to go ahead of him. The little smile is back.
She returns it, and this time it’s genuine.
They pass Estinien’s door. Io’s room is around the corner and down the next corridor, and he makes the full journey.
They pause at her door.
“Thank you for keeping my head on straight.”
“Someone must. You would not hesitate to do the same for me.” He shrugs. And then his hand is on her upper arm, giving a reassuring squeeze. He pulls her into his space.
Her arms thread under his, hands pressing into his back. She rests her cheek on his shoulder, breathes him in. The sharp edge of her anxiety sloughs away, lost in the steady pressure of his arms around her.
They have never hugged like this. They have never been this close.
Io closes her eyes, squeezes him more tightly, and smiles when she can feel his erratic heartbeat through the firm press of their chests. In this moment, with his hands resting at her neck and waist, with his chin against her neck, skin to skin, she cannot imagine his denial. Perhaps it isn't a stretch to assume he feels this too.
The corridor lights grow dim around them. Io pays them no mind, content to stand in the dark until morning, held by the man she yearns for, the man she never thought she would.
But she yawns, and he steps away, hands on her shoulders. Another squeeze. Another scan of her face before his grey eyes focus on hers, like he's making a final decision.
“Tomorrow,” Estinien says. The single word is a promise. Whatever happens, whatever they find, he will make sure Io gets it done.
“Tomorrow.” She nods, slipping into the room as the memory of his touch crystallizes in her mind. Her limbs are heavy as she climbs into the too-small bed, but the weight has lifted.
She can breathe.
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Hi!!!!
Do you have any hcs for how Alicole would try and solve and argument with the kids? Like, their dynamic (especially Aegon with Alicole cause he’s the oldest) is just so interesting and I’ve always wondered how an argument/disagreement would play out with them
ooh, tasty concept.
with arguments amongst the children, they try and get them to take a step back. they'll each take a kid (or two if it involves all of them) and give them a hug or something of the like, easing the tensions, before helping them come to some sort of compromise or agreement.
when it comes to non petty arguments that every child has, the source of issues amongst the kids is the following;
with Aegon they have to settle his need to compensate for feeling as though he is lacking. he tends to pick on his siblings when he's feeling down on himself. so it's a lot of affirming words and hugs while also chiding his cruel behavior. he's definitely hard on himself about being cruel as well, he doesn't like being mean it just sorta comes out of him when he's not in good spirits about himself. he shoves his siblings away over little things when he's upset which only makes him feel worse in the long run. the whole situation makes it hard to parent, as it's not right how he treats his siblings at times, but it's also awful how he feels and how it presents itself. there's typically long talks after the fact. Aegon's usually in his dad's arms, more often than not, while he mom comforts him.
with Aemond it's cooling his temper and frustration, deep breaths and grounding. they remind him that he can't let every jab get a rise out of him, that he always had them to turn to when he needs help, that he's not alone to handle his anger. they try and learn more and more each time, what triggers his anger, what helps him calm down, what to avoid, etc. sometimes he needs to just be held other times he needs a moment alone to breathe. they also try and help him learn how to self regulate and also make his siblings aware that he's getting upset prior to him lashing out (they also talk to them about it).
with Helaena, arguments tend to be because she thinks so differently from her brothers. not only is she a girl in a house of boys, but also because she's autistic (I was the autistic 'sister' in a house of boys for most of my life, it definitely brewed some unique arguments, and I'm gonna project god damn it), their ways of thinking and doing are so different sometimes that she just loses it. so with her, they let her talk, they let her ramble and decompress until she can ground herself, then they have to try and explain the boys point of views, how they see may not be the right way, nor is hers, neither are, but they have to learn to agree. then it's hugs and kisses and talking it out, before they go back to hashing it out with the boys.
Daeron's the most agreeable with the siblings, very adhd coded in my mind (so I'm going to project my brother onto him cause they're very copy pasted in my mind) so when he gets into an argument it's because he's going too fast, too passionate, and/or too much. so again, like most of their children, it's grounding first talking later. like Helaena, they have to explain that the way he is isn't bad or wrong, but that's sometimes we need to slow down, take a breath, cool off, and than continue.
with arguments they take their kids separately, normally separated into different rooms and they visit them together. depending on the exact situation they may just offer hugs and softness, or they'll play a slight game of good cop/bad cop, though they're careful with it. the goal is to solve the problem, not slap a bandaid on it. they tend to each kids needs before handling the actual issue at hand and then being them together to find a solution.
they can both be soft and stern in their own ways. Cole is typically softer on them, as he gets to their levels, takes them close while talking, but he has a stern voice and makes it clear he's willing to put a foot down if need be. while Alicent tends to be a bit more formal and stereotypically authoritative, sitting at the table with them, even if she holds their hands in hers and pulls their chairs close so she can stroke their cheeks.
normally the kids can make right up, or at least come to peaceful terms, but if it doesn't, cause kids can hold grudges like no one's business, Alicent and Cole are forced to remain wholly neutral which is much harder than one would think. most of their fights that lead to grudges are very childish so it's really just waiting for them to crack and realize it was a stupid argument. this is made easier when they don't get involved, so they just laugh amongst themselves where the kids can't see them, and try and keep face in front of them (they can smell weakness and betrayal. send help. a 4 kids household isn't easy). they definitely have moments where they wave the white flag cause one of the kids accused them of siding. the "get along" shirt is also an active and well worn member of the family (Aegon and Aemond share it often)
this video is very much Aegon and Daeron. they feud often. they're either acting like Aegon is a second dad to him, or they are actually going to war and have been sworn enemies for generations, fighting a battle to honor their forefathers (Alicent and Criston are so tired). speaking of Aegon being a second dad, he definitely oversees a lot of arguments between Daeron and his friends... does he understand little kid drama? no. is it entertaining as all hell? you fucking bet, he wants to hear all about what little James did at daycare.
when the kids are arguing with them, which with the way they run the house is pretty rare, but not impossible, they first take a step back for themselves. they will never show anger or cruelty towards their kids, so they make sure they're ok before they even think about talking to their kids.
talking will always be their goal, they never want to use threats or punishments to get what they want from their kids, and they have different ways about it. because their kids know how their household works, that things work on their time, and that just being open and honest, they really just need a day or two to themselves, if the reason for arguing isn't time sensitive, and then they can just take it out.
Aegon is sulky, he just closes himself in his room or flees to a friend's house (which they let happen so long as he leaves a note, leaves his location on his phone, and checks in every few hours) if its really bad. he'll drag himself back to the kitchen table in 48 hours tops, wanting nothing more than for his mom and dad to love him again (they never stopped).
Aemond is just frustrated past reason, so he'll go out and fence with his dummy or just something physical, then he's more willing to listen to reason.
Helaena normally had a boundary or nerve pushed, which was normally accidental, either cause she was already frustrated with something or something changed and it just put both parties in bad positions. space is all she needs.
Daeron is a bit of all the above. he's sensitive, though hard to cross, its often more about other things, something his parent did just broke the camels back, so a long run brings everything back to reason.
Alicent and Criston care so much about their kids, every argument they have with their kids, typically one-sided as they refuse to truly yell, breaks their heart whether or not they did anything or not. they never plan to punish their kids for arguing, they were kids once and they know that its good that they feel safe enough to stand up and fight for what they believe to be true, that they feel safe to shout and disagree with them. they would rather that over anything else, cause they know their kids trust them.
while they aren't permissive with their kids, their are rules and hard limits, they don't count arguing as something to be punished, and their kids don't tend to strand into punishable territories. so resolving a fight is a long talk at the kitchen table, no man's land so to speak, where all parties air their grievances. the problem is discussed, apologies are said on all sides, and sometimes it doesn't always end in a hug, but it does end in feelings being soothed and bridges mended. no one walks away with hard feelings.
they're not perfect, but they make it work, and because they've put so much time and effort into making their home safe and sane, the whole family in therapy, making active efforts to be nothing like their first "home" true arguments are far and few between, and when they happen they're equipped to handle it. Alicent and Cole are such good parents, their kids love and trust them, theirs so much space to talk and negotiate and handle issues early on that there typically isn't any reason to fight. I think that's what makes them such a good family, cause its so hard for me to picture them actually fighting outside of petty things.
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