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He remembers little bits of before. Just enough to make him realize that this is his choice to be here. That he has two eyes because he has done this before.
This Spidae guy acts all high and mighty, when he was really cheating the system, too, all because he wanted to protect his girlfriend.
“You love your anchor,” I say. “All of this started because you wanted to protect her. Why is it so bad that Rhagos wanted to do the same thing for me?”
dust cobwebs off my bare skin and squeeze my legs tightly together, because Rhagos and I just finished having sex and I’m pretty sure I can feel his spend running down the insides of my thighs. It’s…awkward.
The Underworld is a vast place, and learning to be its anchor-slash-queen means it’s not easy to find my place among the people here. They don’t know how to act around me, and because I’m tied to Rhagos, it’s hard to make friends.
Palace is currently full of dressmakers and cooks, scribes and armorers and pastry makers and gardeners and basically it feels like I’ve fallen into the dead version of Downton Abbey, but
sometimes gets pissy, but I’m good at calming him down. Mostly, he just needs to talk out his frustrations and he never had someone to talk to before
Aventine is a bit like Rome and Port Tidewater (and all of Glistentide) is more like Bronze-age Athens. In my head, they exist at the same time, along with some more medieval trappings and cities,
about Kylo Ren. HA. It’s not a secret that I love Star Wars. It’s also not a secret that I love Kylo Ren and am absolutely #reylotrash. Did I base Rhagos’s aesthetic on Kylo? 100%. The moment I saw Kylo Ren, I thought he looked like a specter of death, and it totally influenced me.
There should have been a LOT more kissing in The Rise of Skywalker. That’s all I’m saying.
Kylo was kind of a dick to Rey, and while I love the dark emo hero being redeemed, Rhagos is more of a cinnamon roll than Kylo Ren would ever be.