#// but i'd like to return to my roots when time allows

[songsofheroes]

tbd. this blog is going to be undergoing a massive overhaul once i get javascript permissions. of interest, muses i’ll be adding to the roster include: caeda (1/3/11/12), linde (1/3/11/12), tinni (fe4), shannan (fe4), manfroy (sorry), sety (fe4/5), sara (fe5), lilina (fe6), guinevere (fe6), elphin (fe6), klein (fe6), lugh (fe6), erk (fe7), tiki (fe13), sakura (fe14), and elise (fe14).

[bumblesimagines]

Grateful You're Mine

Request: Yes or No

Summary: Princess Helaena finally weds the man she's been engaged to since they were children. She finds married life to be more than she expected.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

CW/TW: Typical GoT/HOTD warnings, arranged marriage trope, fluff, they match each other's freaks and social levels, canon divergent/au since the twins aren't Aegons, literally nothing else just short and sweet

Crazy we hardly got to see the pleasant and happy girl she was described as 😔 WFMF coming soon!! just thought i'd give some other characters attention for once

~~~

As consciousness seeped into her body, the sweet smell of flowers filled her nose, powerful yet not overwhelming enough to irritate her. It took her brain a few moments to catch up and remind her that she no longer resided within the dreary walls of the Red Keep, but instead in her new home in Highgarden. She rubbed at her eyes with her knuckles gently and pushed herself into a sitting position, her eyes sweeping around the room before settling on the empty spot in the bed beside her. 

"Good morrow, Princess Helaena," Her handmaiden, Maecy, greeted with a friendly smile as she set down a tray with food to break her fast and herbal tea to warm her body. 

"Good morrow," She responded sleepily, slipping her legs free from underneath the blankets and wriggling her feet into the slippers beside the bed. "Has Lord (Y/N) gone somewhere?" 

Her handmaiden smiled knowingly, her slender fingers picking up one of the brushes set on the vanity. "I cannot say, My Princess. I am afraid I have been sworn to secrecy for the time being." 

Helaena's head cocked to the side but she nonetheless nodded silently and stood up, shuffling across the room to retrieve a slice of honeyed bread. She sat down on the comfortable chair and began eating, savoring each bite and licking her fingers clean as Maecy began delicately brushing her hair, untangling knots and smoothing the frizz out with oils. Once finished with her breakfast, Helaena stood up and blinked owlishly at Maecy when the brunette remained rooted in her spot instead of gathering the clothes she'd be wearing for the day.

Before she could question her, the doors parted and Helaena turned around, a smile immediately gracing her features upon seeing her new husband enter. (Y/N) returned it and walked forward, a servant following with a box in her hands as the doors shut firmly behind them. Helaena eyed the box curiously, her brows furrowing questioningly at him. 

"Do you recall that drawing you really liked of the beetle?" He asked her, leaning down to pluck a leftover grape from her plate and plop it into his mouth. Helaena gave a slow nod and he brightened, peering over his shoulder to nod to the servant. "I had a gift made for you."

Helaena watched as Maecy and the servant worked together to take the lid off before she gaped at the sight of a pretty soft blue dress with white accents. They lifted it from the box to showcase its full beauty, and her heart leaped in her chest at the lovely white design of a stag beetle threaded into the bosom area of the dress with small white flowers around it. She pressed her fingers to her lips, her pale lilac eyes widening as she fully absorbed the beauty of the dress. 

(Y/N) watched her, fingers fiddling with the sleeves of his shirt. "Do you like it?" He questioned somewhat nervously only for the nerves to fade at the sound of Helaena's giddy giggle. She nodded and leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his lips that made his skin warm. 

Eagerly, Helaena allowed Maecy and the servant to help her dress, the two women giggling softly under their breaths at the way Lord (Y/N) turned around despite the two having wed the week prior. When they finished, Helaena studied her reflection in the mirror, her teeth clamping down on her bottom lip at the wave of excitement and giddy rushing through her veins. The compliments and coos from the women were swiftly overshadowed by the way her husband's eyes lit up at the sight of her. 

"It is truly lovely," Helaena spoke softly, clutching the skirt to walk better as she strode forward before releasing it to take his hands into hers. He smiled again, rubbing his thumbs over the back of her hands soothingly, just as he had done under the table during their wedding celebrations when the music and loud chatter had become overwhelming for her. "Thank you." 

"Mother thought the fabrics would have been better in green but I've always thought you looked lovelier in blue." (Y/N) told her and she felt her own skin warm, a breathy and shy laugh escaping past her lips. He released one of her hands to brush back one of her silver strands, his eyes softened and filled with genuine warmth. 

After witnessing the loveless marriage between her parents and the chaotic marriage between Aegon and his Lannister wife, Helaena grew to fear her own wedding would be a miserable one. Her marriage to (Y/N) had been arranged by her grandsire after her mother dismissed the idea of her marrying her own brother and rejected her older half-sister's proposal to wed her to one of her sons, although he remained a stranger for many years until the Tyrells expressed their desires to see their heir with children of his own. 

She'd been nervous that day, and her mother's own anxiety hardly helped her own, but when (Y/N) stood before her with a pink hydrangea in hand and his eyes averted to focus on the floor beneath them, she realized she had little to fear. When they'd been left to wander the garden with a handmaiden trailing behind them, the awkward air faded with ease once she began speaking of her beloved crickets and the small creatures she found most interesting and he told her of the flowers that attracted certain creatures. A spark had seemingly ignited, one fueled the night of their wedding day when he offered to lie to their parents when she'd grown too nervous to consummate the marriage. 

"Oh," (Y/N) brightened once more. "You must see the garden at this time of year, Helaena. There's butterflies in every corner." 

And so they took a stroll through the garden, taking in the floral scents in the air and the vibrant rows of flowers with butterflies, other winged insects, and even a few hummingbirds bouncing from flower to flower.

Her mother had been right when she told her a girl of her disposition would do well within the peaceful walls of Highgarden; everything about Highgarden felt calming. The Red Keep had a tense air to it with its gloomy weather and near-suffocating residents but those who resided in Highgarden appeared more carefree and happy. Helaena enjoyed it, enjoyed being in a place where she received smiles instead of judgemental glances. 

Unlike in the Keep where time passed agonizingly slowly with little to nothing new happening, Highgarden always seemed to be bursting with life and music. Helaena found herself passing time with her husband in the garden, her hands focused on beginning an embroidery of a pretty butterfly she spotted whilst (Y/N) drew a flower with his chalk on paper. Things were silent between them yet merely spending time beside him satisfied her, allowing her to work with a small smile on her face. 

When they finished with their respective pieces, they returned inside and ate lunch in the quiet of their bedchambers. Helaena watched the servants scoop up the plates and take them away, cleaning the table and curtsying before swiftly leaving the room and leaving her to turn to look at (Y/N). His head remained tilted toward the balcony overlooking the large maze, his eyes distant but expression content. 

"Husband," Helaena roused him, bringing him back to the present. She licked a crumb off the owner of her lips and straightened up in her seat, casting Maecy a glance. "What do you think of having children?" 

"Babes are loud and messy." (Y/N) responded, leaning back into his chair and swirling around the last of his tea before bringing it to his lips. "It would be... nice to have some, though. I think it would please Mother to have grandchildren and Father would surely dote on them." 

"I'd like to have some soon," Helaena revealed. She'd always been told she'd make a lovely mother. "A boy and two girls, I think, would be nice. Mother claims Hightowers oft' have many boys, though." 

"We can have as many as you desire."

Children, Helaena came to learn, were rather interesting little creatures that brought forth such wonder and intense feelings out of her. Helaena simply couldn't get enough of watching her newest little one sleep cradled in her arms, her rosy cheeks more apparent from the complexion she'd inherited from her mother. Daenys gave a small yawn and squeezed her eyes before parting them to reveal the violet beneath. 

"Someone has finally awoken," Helaena murmured, tilting her head to look at her husband. He held a book in his hands, one about different flowers documented across Westeros, with their sleepy twins nestled between his arms. She reached out to run her fingers through Jaehaerys (H/C) hair, unable to bite back the smile when he nuzzled further into his father's chest. 

Carefully, (Y/N) set the book aside and scooped Jaehaerys up to settle him at his mother's side before he took Daenys into his arms, eyes crinkling with joy when she cooed at the sight of him. "I hear your nieces and nephews may give Queen Alicent some gray hairs." He chuckled. "It is no wonder why she visits as often as she does." 

"Maelor and his siblings have inherited much from their parents, I suppose. A lioness in gold forced to live in the cold will always have her claws out... and Aegon's never been... easy." Helaena spoke, her arm sliding around her only boy and the future heir to Highgarden. The look (Y/N) sent her way made her chuckle, lightly shrugging her shoulders. "I am certain he is a good father even if he may not be.. an adequate husband."

"If you say so." (Y/N) murmured, leaning down to nuzzle his nose against Daenys just to hear her burst with giggles. Her dozing sister parted her eyes at the sound and eagerly moved closer, eyes wide with adoration as she took in her new sibling again. Her father sweetly stroked the back of her head, tilting his arm so she'd have a better look at Daenys. "Though, he is as good of an uncle as Prince Aemond. He has already sent the finest jewels for Daenys."

"It's not so bad being married to a Targaryen, then?" Helaena asked teasingly, leaning toward him to rest her chin upon his shoulder. 

(Y/N) huffed a small laugh and kissed the side of her head. "Yes, it's not so bad. It's lovely, if anything, dearest." 

[dedalvs]

When will humankind learn the lesson of its hubris and begin to heal itself? Also can you recommend any undergraduate or graduate level resources (textbooks etc.) for learning about fiction? I already read Writing Fiction by Burroway. Thanks in advance

January 14, 3182. Make a note of the date and return to this post when it comes.

To your second question, I've never read anything on writing fiction, only writing in general. I've found something valuable in every book on writing, even if there were things in the book I found less valuable. For example, I read Writing Down the Bones: Freeing the Writer Within by Natalie Goldberg, and while there was much of it I didn't care for, there are some passags that have stuck with me 22 years later. When it comes to writing guides, I think the best thing to do is read what interests you while understand that what you are really doing is building your own writing guide inside you. You're absorbing what you find personally meaningful and using it to create your own personal styleguide that, like it or not, you'll be following for the rest of your life. Rather than rejecting that, and trying to decide which text will be the text that tells you how to write, embrace it, realize that you are going to do what you're going to do, and then try to work within that framework. That is, if that's what's happening, how will you approach a styleguide? What will it mean to you to read a very didactic text (i.e. "All serious writers must do x; no serious writer every does y") vs. a loosey-goosey one (e.g. "Dance naked in the garden of your creativity and allow your flowers to bloom!")? What are you looking for in these texts and what will you do with information or strategies that you find valuable?

Returning to Writing Down the Bones, I have to say I found the book to be mostly woo. It was more a kind of self-help/empowerment book than a book on writing, in my opinion. But there is something in there that I'm sure I'd heard before but which finally resonated with me. Specifically, it was the way she articulated that it really, truly doesn't matter what you put on the page when you're drafting. Drafting is not the time to reject. Even some idea comes to you that you find absurd, illogical, thematically inappropriate—whatever. It's not the time to push it away. Indeed, it's wasted effort. Editing and revising is the time to question. If you're writing, you shouldn't let anything stop you—even your own brain.

Why it took till then for this idea to take root, I don't know. It could be how she worded it. It could be that it came at the right time. Perhaps I was more open to new ideas when I was reading this book. It may also have something to do with a transition that had taken place for me in writing. After all, when I started high school, I was not regularly using a computer (we'd only just gotten a computer that stayed at home). When I started writing, I wrote by hand—on paper. It's a much, much different thing to edit and revise when you're writing on paper than it is on when you're working on a computer! I mean, digital real estate is cheap. When you're writing by hand, it can literally hurt to write seven or eight pages—and then to discard them in editing! Right now I'm working on a novel draft where I've decided an entire section needs to come out. If I'd written that by hand?! I can't even imagine.

I guess the tl;dr of it is I don't have a specific text to recommend. Rather, I encourage you to look around and grab anything that interests you. In doing so, though, I encourage you to approach it differently, focusing on what in it you find valuable, without either wholly rejecting it or feeling you have to follow it to the letter like an Ikea manual. I even found something valuable in C. S. Lewis's The Abolition of Man, which I honestly can't believe I read.

If you'd like some fiction advice that may be generally useful no matter what you're writing, this is what I can offer:

A valuable skill to hone is being able to read your work as if you have no other knowledge of it. In other words, you need to be able to read your work like a reader. One of the most difficult things to do with fiction is to cut. You usually have a lot more characterization, a lot more plot points, a lot more detail, etc. than end up on the page. The important question is if you cut something, will the reader notice? Will it actually feel like something's miss it, or will a reader never notice? Mind, I'm not saying that as a writer you can't tell if something is superfluous, or that anything you cut will be superfluous. I'm saying sometimes even if you cut something important a reader will still get the impression that what they are reading is whole and unedited. That isn't a good thing or a bad thing: it's a neutral thing. The question you'll have to answer is what is this whole that the reader is getting, and is that whole something you're satisfied with?

Get multiple rounds of feedback from many different readers. I say this not because it's vital, because beta readers are important, because you have to have multiple perspectives on your work, etc. None of that. Getting feedback from many different readers is a form of self-care on the part of the writer. I was deathly afraid of feedback as a young writer. I welcomed praise, sure, but anything else felt too painful to bear. This changed when I took a short fiction class at Berkeley. Suddenly a short story of mine wasn't getting one round of feedback: it was getting fourteen. And not just from the professor, but from fellow students. This was a minor revolution for me in terms of accepting feedback. If I were to take, say, one round of feedback, certainly there would be some praise, but there would also be notes like "awkward phrasing", "why did x character do y?", "this is unclear", "too much description", etc. These things would burn me. I would seethe reading them, and it would hurt so deeply. But! Imagine that one of them circles a paragraph and writes "too much description" and then the other thirteen readers say absolutely nothing at all about that paragraph—maybe one even puts a smiley face next to it. THAT puts the criticism in its proper context. Maybe your writing isn't too bad! Maybe there isn't too much description. Maybe that particular reader just wasn't vibing with it, and maybe that's okay. And then let's look at it from the other perspective. Say thirteen out of fourteen papers have a sentence marked and all of them say things like "huh?", "what's this mean?", "confusing", etc. Guess what? The sentence is probably confusing. And for some reason if everyone's saying the same thing it hurts a lot less. It means, yeah, you probably made a little mistake, and that's okay. It's not one person singling you out, and it's not the case that they don't know what they're talking about. I can't emphasize enough how freeing it is to look at reviews of your work if you have a handful or more to draw from rather than just a single good friend.

It's okay to write the fun part first. You may have a plot device you're really excited about, but to get there, you have to introduce your characters, have them get together, have them go to a place, meet someone else, etc. And it may take time and energy to write all that. You may feel pressured to get through that before you get to the part you really want to write. You certainly can, but you do not have to. I don't know if younger writers can appreciate exactly what it means to have a computer. You can write a little bit now and literally copy and paste it into some other document later. Try doing that with a typewriter! You can write something like "Insert paragraphs later of characters traveling to x location". You can even drop a variable in there so it's easy to find with the search function later (e.g. "ZZZZZ insert scene description here"—now you just need to search for "ZZZZZ"). You can put it in a different color on the screen so it's easy to find when scrolling. You can paste a freaking photo into your document! It's extraordinary what you can do with a computer that you couldn't do in years past. You've got a ton of options. But most importanly, when your work is done, no one will know what order you wrote it in.

In fiction, nothing has to happen. Villains don't have to be punished; heroes don't have to win; characters don't have to have a specific arc that comes to some conclusion. Honestly, one of the tropes (if you can even call it a trope) that I find most frustrating in sequels for movie franchises is after the characters are introduced, they take a few character and assign to them the major story conflict, and then for the rest, they give them a mini arc. It's like, "Mondo 2: Exploding the Mondoverse sees our hero Larjo Biggins take on new villain the Krunge as the very core of the Mondoverse is threatened with destruction! Also, Siddles Nuli learns its okay to be left out sometimes and she shouldn't get her feelings hurt, and Old Mucko learns that even though technology is advancing, sometimes good old fashioned common sense is just what the doctor ordered!" If you get to the end of your story, and you feel it's done, you don't have to panic if you suddenly realize we don't know whether Hupsi ever made it to Bumbus 7. It's okay if Story A is resolved but Story B is not.

I don't care if you used Trope A in your new story even though you used Trope A in your past seven stories and neither should you. Seriously, you think anyone was complaining when Agatha Christie put out another mystery novel? "Oh. Mystery again, huh? Gee, we were all hoping you'd write a book about the struggles traditional fishing villages are facing in the wake of industrial modernization." No we fucking weren't!

I hope you find some of this useful. Whether you did or not, though, be sure you enjoy what you're doing. If you are, you're doing the right thing.

[doumadono]

HHHIIIIIIIiiiiiii... 🐺💎

So, I am coming to you with a small Emergency Request.

You know what's coming for me this Wednesday. I am just scared, stressed and all over the place. To simply put it I am a bundle of nerves that can snap ANY moment now.

I'd like to ask for a short fic with Prohero Shinso!

I just want to cuddle and nap with him to relax and maybe finally calm down!!!! 🥹🥹🥹

A/N: sweetheart, I'm confident you'll do your best! I'm rooting for you, and I hope this little fic meets your expectations ᓚᘏᗢ

EMERGENCY REQS MASTERLIST

Prohero Hitoshi Shinso, known for his extraordinary Quirk that allowed him to control others with just a whisper, was both feared and respected in equal measure.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting hues of orange and pink across the skyline, Shinso found himself returning to his modest apartment after a long day of crime-fighting. He unlocked the door with a tired sigh, shoulders slumping with the weight of the world. However, as he stepped inside, his fatigue melted away at the sight of you, curled up on the couch, a bundle of nerves and anxiety.

"Hey there," he murmured softly, closing the door behind him and crossing the room to kneel beside your curled form. "Rough day?"

You nodded, offering a weak smile. "You could say that."

"Sit down," Shinso urged gently, his voice a soothing melody in the cacophony of your mind. "I'll make us some tea."

As he disappeared into the kitchen, you let out a shaky breath, sinking into the cushions and allowing yourself to relax for the first time in what felt like an eternity.

Minutes later, Shinso returned with two steaming mugs of chamomile tea, setting them down on the coffee table before joining you on the couch. "Here," he said, handing you a mug. "This should help calm your nerves."

You took a sip, the warm liquid spreading a sense of tranquility through your body. "Thank you," you murmured, meeting Shinso's gaze with gratitude shining in your eyes.

He reached out, gently brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. "You don't have to thank me," he said softly. "I'm here for you, always." Without another word, Shinso enveloped you in his arms, pulling you close to his chest. His touch was like a soothing balm, easing the tension from your muscles as if by magic. "It's okay to have a worse day," he whispered, his voice a gentle reassurance in the darkness.

For a while, you simply melted into his embrace, finding solace in the warmth of his presence. But as the minutes stretched on, the weight of your worries still lingered, casting a shadow over your mind yet again.

Sensing your unease, Shinso pulled away slightly, his eyes searching yours with concern. "You know," he began, his voice laced with a hint of mischief, "I have a trick up my sleeve that might help you relax."

You raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "Oh? And what might that be?"

An assistive glint danced in Shinso's eyes as he reached out, gently cupping your cheek in his hand. "Just close your eyes and trust me, would you, Y/N?" he murmured.

With a deep breath, you obeyed, surrendering yourself to his touch. And then, in an instant, you felt it — a gentle tug at the edges of your consciousness, like a soft whisper in the darkness. It was his Quirk, the power to control minds with but a word.

"Just relax," he whispered, his voice a soft murmur in the stillness of the room. "Let go of all your worries and fears. You're safe here with me."

His words washed over you like a gentle wave, soothing your frayed nerves and easing the tightness in your chest. With each whispered syllable, you felt yourself sinking deeper into a state of tranquility, the weight of the world slowly lifting from your shoulders. The worries that had once plagued your mind faded into the background, replaced by a sense of peace.

When you opened your eyes again, Shinso was smiling down at you, his expression tender and affectionate. "Better?"

You nodded, a grateful smile tugging at your lips. "Much better. Thank you, Hitoshi."

His smile widened at the sound of his name, a rare display of vulnerability on his usually stoic face. "Anytime. Oh, I nearly forgot," Hitoshi exclaimed, a hint of excitement in his voice. "I have someone I want you to meet, and I hope you won't be upset with me." He darted back towards the main door, returning moments later with a small box cradled in his arms. Placing the box gently by your side on the couch, Hitoshi's eyes sparkled with anticipation as he carefully opened it, revealing its precious contents. With a gentle hand, he reached inside, and to your surprise, he pulled out a small tortoiseshell cat, its bright eyes wide with curiosity as the animal blinked up at you. "This is Luna," Hitoshi announced with a smile, his voice soft and tender as he held the kitten up for you to see.

Luna wriggled in Hitoshi's grasp, her tiny paws reaching out towards you as if seeking reassurance. Hitoshi chuckled softly, gently placing her on the couch beside you where she promptly curled up in a small ball, purring contentedly.

"She's been through a lot," Hitoshi explained, his gaze softening as he watched Luna settle in beside you. "But I think she'll be happy here with us. I've been seeing her lurking near the building for a few days now," he began, his voice tinged with fondness. "Every time I'd come home from work, she'd be there, just hiding in the bushes." He paused, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "At first, she was a bit cautious around me, but as I stopped by to pet her each day, she started to warm up to me. Eventually, she started seeking me out, running to greet me whenever I walked by, rubbing her side against my legs as if trying to make friends. I decided that if Luna would let me catch her today, I would bring her home with me," he explained, his eyes sparkling with warmth. "And she did. She hopped right into the box without hesitation, almost as if she knew she belonged with me." Hitoshi's smile widened as he looked down at Luna, who was now curled up contentedly beside you on the couch. "I took her to the vet right away to make sure she was healthy," he continued. "She's a bit underweight, but with some TLC and good food, she'll be good in no time."

As you listened to Hitoshi's story, your heart swelled with admiration for his kindness and compassion towards the cat. You couldn't help but smile at the sight of Luna, her presence bringing a sense of warmth and joy to the room. "You did very well, Hitoshi," you whispered, reaching out to stroke Luna's soft fur. "She's perfect."

Hitoshi's voice was gentle as he spoke. "I truly believe that Luna's presence will be beneficial for both of us," he stated, his tone soft but resolute. "There's something inherently calming about a cat's presence. The softness of their fur, the gentle rhythm of their purr — it has a way of soothing the soul, easing the anxieties of daily life." He reached out to gently stroke Luna's fur, a small smile playing at his lips as she purred contentedly beneath his touch. "I've always found solace in the company of cats," he admitted. "And I hope that having Luna here with us will bring us both a sense of comfort and tranquility, especially on those days when the world feels a little too overwhelming."

You nodded in agreement. Indeed, there was nothing quite like the gentle presence of a furry companion to chase away the worries of the day and bring a sense of peace to the heart. Not to mention, your dear boyfriend knew how to use his quirk in the wisest way possible to soothe your inner demons.

[fromthedragonsdesk]

On Visual Novels and Catharsis

I never had a high opinion of Visual Novels. In my mind, they always seemed to boil down to the most basic wish fulfillment tripe that we'd collectively assign to the isekai genre these days, I'd wager. To me it was a waste of time or energy trying to interact with them (as an aside, I'm well aware that the Phoenix Wright series is arguably a visual novel, but I missed that boat by not having DS-era device). Even today, with a glance over most of games tagged 'visual novel' on Steam, you'll see what could be generously described as fetish pornography. So, seeing all this, I reinforced my belief that visual novels were for people who wanted some plot with their porn, and never thought much of it.

To my surprise, Steam insisted on recommending visual novels to me. I usually just tossed them aside from the recommendation queue, until I got two recommended almost back-to-back: Mice Tea and Changeling Tale.

Mice Tea had generally positive reviews, and many of them cited that the game's writing and characterization were generally humorous and appealing. So, given that it was on sale during the Steam Winter Sale, I figured it was worth a shot. Then, after basically binging on the game for 20 hours, I walked away thinking that I might have misjudged the genre on some levels.

I wouldn't say I was entirely surprised by Mice Tea - the reviews did it justice in terms of you, as the reader, wanting to root for the main cast to succeed. Most of the conflict didn't necessarily arise from an outside force, but rather internalized conflicts and the struggle to essentially be honest with yourself and those around you, risking vulnerability, essentially. At its core, I still felt like it was wish fulfillment to a significant degree, but the implausibilities were generally smoothed over enough to allow for suspension of disbelief to ride along with the story. And yeah, there... was a fair amount of catering to various fetishes and such worked in, but all in a fairly world-consistent sort-of perspective? At its core, the story was light, cheerful with moments of self-reflection and introspection, and wrapped up in a generally nice bow all in the end.

But what Mice Tea ended up doing for me, personally, was allowing me to lower my defenses during a particularly stressful point in my life, staying present in my mind when I then read over the reviews and such for Changeling Tale. I brushed off the emotion reviews, thinking that they were likely being dramatic.

I could not have been more wrong.

While set in a backdrop of old Scottish fantasy, I continually found myself impressed at how grounded Changeling Tale managed to make itself felt. I believe this is because the main character / player character of Changeling Tale (hereafter referred to as "Malcolm") is primarily reacting to the supernatural events occurring around him, rather than necessarily driving them by his own volition. Malcolm is thrust into a world that he already feels disconnected from due to his service in the military, and it cracks further open as fae magic begins seeping into the world around him.

That said, no one in the backwater town in which Malcolm has returned to handles the public appearance of fae magic particularly well, much less the three parallel storylines available to the reader between Jessie, Marion, and Grace. If anything, the most unreasonable reactions come from the player themselves, in how flippant or otherwise easygoing they handle changes happening to the people around them. That said, many decisions have a snowballing / weighted effect that can change plot directions far later on than one might expect, leading to fallings-out with friends and family, or worse.

But then something strange happened to me, as a reader, while working my way through these split storylines. Core messages seemed to stick out to me, interwoven among the stories. But they cut me straight to the core as a person; after finishing all 3 major storylines I was left shaking and bleary-eyed, wishing events could have turned out differently, desperately trying to reject the messages that had been suggested despite knowing deep-down that they were right.

"Be the best you that you can be."

"Encourage people to chase their dreams, but make sure you're pursuing your dream too."

"Sometimes peoples' dreams are irreconcilable with one another. That doesn't mean the love is gone, it just means that it isn't fair to either person."

"The size of the dream does not diminish its value; the holder of the dream determines its value."

(I intentionally omitted the storyline associations I would make)

When I held all of these thoughts together, an emotional dam burst in my heart. For years I never considered myself as having dreams or goals. For years I felt kind of confused and wondering if what I was doing mattered, or had worth. But somehow, a visual novel about fae shenanigans that dances alongside a transformation kink broadsides me with the realization that I AM where I want to be, doing what I am doing. I have a family who l love and loves me back. I am not pursuing a dream; rather, I am cultivating and maintaining a dream I have already attained. I am doing what is important to me and my family, and even if I'm not changing the world around me and leaving a name in the history books, I know that I am here and directly affecting the lives of those around me, and I'm not sure what more I could want for at this very moment.

And for the first time in quite a while, I feel content and satisfied.

[rosedere]

The Liyue Lotus and the Merchant from Snezhnaya

(Pantalone x Fem! Reader)

MDNI +18

Cw: kidnapping, stalking, non con elements, graphic violence (later chapters), yandere content, pregnancy mentioned, forced marriage, female/ fem aligned Reader, *will update as the series goes on

Cross posted on AO3

Previous Chapter: Lotus in transience

Current Chapter: Communication lost in the mountains (you are here)

Next Chapter: Blizzard; Found

Synopsis: Unfortunately, The Regerator develops a fixation with you while you are working undercover for Yelan. And there’s no one who can get in his way of his prized Lotus.

-

The parts of me buried underneath

They're glowing, do you see?

I know that you feel me now

No I'm never going down

-

You didn't hear from Yelan again.

…

It was total static from everyone. 

A few weeks into your stay in your pagoda tower was when you had any sort of noteworthy event. Basking in the pouring sunlight from the opening of the balcony from the canopy bed, you only realized you were drifting off to sleep when the soft footsteps from the hallway began to grow louder in volume.

“Lián”

You felt something paper-textured land on your bloated stomach.

Eyes still closed in annoyance, you lifted your arm to shoo Galina away.

“Its from Your beloved~” she added as she sat besides you, pulling away at the curtain to allow more light in.

You only stayed silent, trying to relax into the cool silk pillow you were currently resting on.

“Lián, you've been sleeping a lot lately.”

Galina sighed, holding the back of her hand to your forehead. “Hopefully you didn't catch a cold when you went swimming,” she muttered to herself as she leaned back onto the bed, laying near your feet.

“Fine— let me see.”

Unfurling yourself from the confines of the sheets, you sat up to see a medium-sized box now toppled over onto your side of the bed.

The wrapping on the package was an intricate iridescent blue and white tissue paper encasing the box, topped with a small paper lily.

Carefully unwrapping the top of the bow, the rest of the package fell apart, revealing the contents inside the dark blue box. You reached for the envelope before observing the contents of the delicately wrapped items; the letter was a familiar Snezhnaya envelope you had handled in the past during missions.Delicate as you opened the envelope with your name written on it with a golden fountain dip pen, Piercing the letter with your sharpest nail.

The parchment was cold to the touch, several pages from first glance.

“So what is it, my lady?" Galina perched her hand under her chin.

"Unfortunately, I don't read as fast as Pantalone”

“Lián, 

I have finally made it to Snezhnaya. By the time this letter should reach you, I'd have been here already for several weeks.

Thankfully, the… unfriendly gathering has ended sooner than I anticipated. I am currently catching up on certain duties I neglected before I came home.

In the meantime, until I have a certain day of arrival, I sent you some items that reminded me of you, hopefully reaching you along with this letter.

Every day I've been thinking about you, Lián; hopefully Galina and Fedor have been treating you well in my absence. I can't resist letting my mind wander to our first night together. 

I can't wait until we are united again so we can share a few more nights like that one, my rooted lotus.

I have more to say and share with you about Snezhnaya, but I have been alerted to some issues involving one of my underlings that I must take care of, so I will leave the rest to your imagination until we both can come together.

The Regerator

You looked over at the gently wrapped items stacked neatly in a pile.

“Hmm, so it appears he could arrive any day now,” Galina mindlessly replied, now propped up on one of the smaller pillows on the bed.

“Any day? How did you get that from the letter?” you asked.

“I just know him; last time he said that he returned a week later,” she turned lying in the bed.

"Hey, did he also leave an extra envelope in there by any chance?”

You carefully laid the blue ink letter on the bedspread as you pulled the items out of the box; some you could immediately guess were clothes, while others felt like they were wrapped in a sturdy paper box.

Thinking that was it, two envelopes slipped out from the bottom.

One was on dark sapphire blue paper, and the other was a dusty violet color.

“Oh! That's it,” she reached over energetically for the dusty violet color before pocketing the other one in her hood pocket.

A smile graced her face as she eagerly opened the letter.

Humming as she read her letter, you noticed the back of the letter had a photograph of something—a few pictures from the thickness you could tell from the shape.

You didn't want to pry, so you returned your attention to the items strewn about now on the bed.

Reaching for a small rectangular one carelessly thrown on top of the several items now forming a small mountain, a silver ink print was on top as you further inspected the gift.

“To moma”

You were about to speak up, but Galina read your mind, grabbing a hold of the box in your hand.

"Sorry, my lady, you had to grab that~ hehe He must have packed them altogether,” she bashfully apologized.

“Ah no, its on me; I shouldn't have just assumed it was mine,” you smiled back at her, watching her handle the gift.

The photos on the back of the letter are now laying facing up on top of the letter as she unwrapped the gift eagerly.

You watched as she pulled the expensive wrapping off, again her mask concealing her face, but you could tell her mood instantly lightened as she held the now unwrapped gift.

“Is that?”

Galina nodded, holding the small statue.

You knew it was an ice creation—some vision holders becoming sculptors using their vision to create material.

But the place that was sculpted was somewhere you had never seen before.

The tall dome-like roofs and a small miniature garden with a snowy lake in front of the palace-like place. 

The amount of detail was truly inspiring.

“My daughter... finally got a vision while I was away." Galina smiled, holding the small miniature in her gloved hand.

"She had desperately wanted to become one so she could serve the Tsaritsa” 

She held the minature to her chest.

“I miss her so much.”

Galina's finger traced around the little pond that was sculpted into the side of the castle.

“The last time I saw her was when she was only a small toddler, barely able to stand,” she chuckled to herself.

Rolling on her stomach, she placed the minature on the wrapping, looking closer at it from behind.

“She told me in her letter that she will try to become an ice maiden under the tsaritsa as soon as her birthday comes next month.” 

She glanced back up at you.

“ah— this might be a bit boring to you, my lady; I apologize once more.” 

“No, it's alright, it's just-”

This is going to be awkward…

“Are you really a mother?” You blurted.

Startled by your blunt tone, you covered your mouth as you searched for any amount of offense in your words on her face.

Galina smiled mischievously at you before she rewrapped the small sculpture.

“Three”

“Including my younger sisters, so...”

Ten

Your eyes widen in surprise,thanking your hand for covering your mouth, as it was probably hanging down in shock.

“Its a long story, but im all they have; its why im here with Fedor,” she sighed, reaching for the photographs.

She grabbed the last photo from the back, placing it on your covered lap.

The photo showed three girls in some sort of igloo in the wilderness; the oldest sitting on the left of the embankment looked to be at least sixteen—a young teen—while the other two sitting in the poorly constructed igloo looked to be no older than six. 

Galina placed a finger on the oldest one.

“That one is my Victoria,” she pointed to the girl. “She looks more like her… father than I, but she is such a sweet girl.” 

She then pointed to the two girls inside the igloo.

“These two are my twins, Brki and Ivanna.” 

You looked closer inside the igloo to see the two smiling girls more in detail; their eyes, hair, and body structure were identical.

“I was so lucky to have them; I'm sure they're probably impatiently waiting for my return again,” she smiled, looking back down at the picture.

You watched her fondly touch the small photograph of her children; absorbed in her world that was depicted in the photo.

“I certainly hope I'm not overstepping since... "I'm not a mother and all.” You looked down at your hands before you laid on your side, facing Galina on the bed.

“Why don't you work closer to Snezhnaya instead of being so far from them?” 

“If I had my babies somewhere in a region all by themselves, I'd probably lose sleep knowing I was doing such a dangerous job.”

Galina's smile softened as she carefully laid the photo next to the minature.

“I would if I could, Lián.”

“I thought this might have been the trip my Lord Pantalone would have offered to take me and Fedor along back home,” she exhaled.

“But I guess I signed up a week too late to stay; now I work for the Regerator.” 

She tucked the letter and photographs inside the wrappings.

“I guess better this way; I'd probably be dead if I worked for the home harbingers like Il Dottore or Coloumbina…” she chuckled half-heartedly. "Ah, you haven't met them yet, but they certainly... are strange,” she smiled to herself. 

You smiled back at Galina as she tucked her gifts in her opposite coat pocket.

“I must write my babies a letter before the day ends,” she stretched out onto your bed.

“Hey—can I see what your beloved brought for you this time?” 

“Please~” she asked, propping her head up with her hands.

“Sounds fair to me since you shared what you were sent in the mail,” you sluggishly moved back up in a sitting position.

Checking to make sure nothing else was mixed up. 

You grabbed the top item; wrapped in a very sturdy tissue-like paper. Gingerly pulled the ribbon on top, making the whole wrapping come off.

“Oh wow, miss Lián! Its so beautiful,” her eyes lit up.

“Err.. but what is it?” You tilted your head.

The sheer cloth was so long that you had to keep unrolling the dark sapphire material at least 30 times until you could observe the full tapestry of cloth.

A white-tinsel lotus design ebbed all around the sheer fabric, reaching the ends of the ground. The horizontals had a very expensive tassel and metal accessories hanging low on the bottom all the way to the top.

"Ah, Miss Lián, that's a...”

Galina stroked her chin in thought for a moment.

“Oh! I remember the Liyue word for it… A veil”

“Like for….” You swallowed thickly. “A bride?”

“Oh no, at least not in our culture it isnt— women of high status wear them to mimic the Tsaritsa's own veil to shield her innocence,” Galina pointed at the fabric.

“If I wasn't so lazy, I'd show you right now how it's worn, but I have a feeling I might know what at least two of the other packages entail.” She glanced over towards the uneven mountain of gifts.

“It certainly is beautiful, but I don't know if I'll be able to wear it in our humid climate,” you sighed.

“You can always weave it into your hair like some of the previous Harbingers and some Harbinger spouses do,” she smiled. "But, to be honest with you, I think he mostly got it for you to wear as a shawl like the ones you adore so much.” Galina lowered her voice.

Letting curiosity get the best of you, the decision to wear the veil was all your brain was telling you to do as you carefully slid out of bed, standing on bare feet as you wrapped the fabric around your gown.

“So it just goes over me?” You questioned now standing next to the long fabric.

"Yup,” Galina quickly responded, looking over at you.

You began to unwrap the veil, opening it up like a bedsheet before placing it on top of your messy hair.

Dropping the veil to the ground, it laid around your feet gracefully, catching the light from outside as you twirled underneath the long fabric.

“Its beautiful.” You touched the inside of the veil, really feeling the soft netted material.

"Oh, but wait until you see the second piece that goes with it,” she chuckled, her belly crawling towards the mountain of presents laying where you had previously disturbed.

She began sorting through the gifts before she settled on the largest one, nestled underneath a few other items.

“Here, try this one.”

You approached with the veil still over your head, grabbing the package, now intrigued.“Id offer to unwrap it for you, my lady, but Id rather not get caught by Fedor,” she scratched the back of her head.

“If you want to, you can,” you held the gift back towards her. “You can be my assistant,” Your veil unintentionally jingled as you held it out to her.

Galina nodded before opening the carefully wrapped present for you.

She went quickly to work as she unwrapped the tightly bound package.

Another heavy-looking garment tightly folded; the white fur was mostly what you identified until you looked closer, realizing it was another long item of fabric.

“This part I'll let you unwrap,” she handed the item to you.

unfolding the very tightly packed item, watching a cascade of snow whites and icy blues sparkle and twinkle back at you.

The top silmy mantle around the collar reminds you of an artic fox; the fur is a second layer underneath the thick peacoat material; the tulle layer underneath acting like a long dress as it also pooled and complimented the robe part of the long splits that rain besides the ribs of the coat.

"Normally, women in snezhnaya also wear a layered robe underneath this coat, just like the Tsaritsa” Galina pointed to the sleeves.

“Im surprised why he bought you these specifically since normally that particular outfit is worn for special occasions.” 

“special meaning?” You trailed.

“Like an engagement or being pinned as a harbinger is the one I can think of at the top of my head,” she flicked her eyes towards the wardrobe on the opposite side of the room.

“I would show you Pantalone's, but it seems he took his winter formal coat on business with him,” she looked back at the coat still in your hand.

“He has one identical to that one, but it seems he custom ordered it while he was over there,” Galina sighed, “which is something not anyone is honored to receive from Snezhnayans.”

Astonished, you took a step back as you looked closer at the coat. You realized initially that what seemed to be sleeves was actually more of a split poncho with a lack of a better term. Deciding to try it as well, you opened the front of the insulated coat. The soft mink feeling inside was very warm, and of course it had the quality of something you have never been blessed to wear.

“It's kind of heavy.” You walked towards the end of the ornate gateway leading to the bedroom door, the crystal material catching more light than your veil. 

“They certainly are; the more layers, the better, my lady,” Galina watched as you carefully walked back towards the bed.

Sighing, you sat on the edge of the bed before lying back on the bed.

“My lady? Are you okay?” Galina sat up, sitting besides you, where the material cascaded down the tall bed.

“Just a bit winded—I think I just haven't been sleeping well,” you murmured before removing your arms from the sleeves. “I'll be alright once I close my eyes for a moment,” you replied, burying your face into the covers.

“Ah— but do you want to unwrap the rest of your gifts first? It seems there are about four more.” Galina began to neatly stack the few items left on the bed.

“Maybe later—” you yawned.

“My lady, at least let me take your jacket off of you.” Galina fussed as she began to carefully lift you up.

“My lord would kill me if he found out I let you roll around in them,” she began to carefully begin the process of undressing and disasembling your outfit.

“Galina? Are you in here?” Fedor's voice boomed from the walkway outside.

Your cheery guard looked towards the balcony outside; the pyro energy radiating around where Fedor had teleported.

"Ah, one moment—Im undressing our lords, beloved,” she finished unrolling the veil into a neat square on the bed.

“This is an urgent matter, my comrade; a crane has been spotted.”

Galina froze before dropping the fabric on the bed.

She quickly removed your long jacket and laid it on top of the bed, where the items were stacked, before she laid you back into one of the larger pillows on your bed.

“I'm sorry, my lady; I'll dress you properly later.”

“Please stay in your bedroom and do not open any doors until we arrive,” Galina calmly told you.

Your eyes, however, were already closing as you heard Galina and Fedor hurry out of the room before they closed the gate to the balcony.

Silence except for the occasional bird call or sway of wind passing through the bedroom.

As much as your body was dragging you down, however, you knew you had to continue your real mission.

Especially since Pantalone was already getting ready to come back.

Pulling yourself up, you looked around the room you had become accustomed to for the several days you lived here.

Unfortunately, you didn't find much in his various drawers, desks, and vases of scrolls; seemingly, he took everything with him on his business in the ever-frozen wasteland.

Walking over to the bedroom door unshockingly, it was very obviously locked from the outside.

No way out

Leaning against the door, you lazily looked over towards the bathroom.

On one of these absentee days at Pantalones Estate, you were tasked with washing yourself while Galina stepped away to figure out where the smoke in the lower kitchen was from.

You would have started by yourself drying your body off, but you noticed only a few washcloths left.

Sighing to yourself as you sat on the edge of the stone ledge that formed the natural tub, you felt one that was… out of place.

Not in appearance, but the large section of stone was loose.

Assuming it was just a loose stone, you pulled at the slate. A rumble occurred, and a wall was revealed below your feet.

A passage.

You carefully lowered yourself into the earthy passage, leaving barely enough room for one person to squeeze through. Wherever you landed, you were extremely unsure as you reached the end of your descent.  The walls were tall; you could feel a draft, but there was no light at all in the room. You cursed yourself for not having a pyro vision as you felt and touched everything until you ran your hands on a switch, the handle protruding in front of you.

Pulling it revealed a network.

Tunnels.

Each leading deeper into the mountain.

Only before you were about to decide which mossy-covered entrance to take, you were alerted by Galina's sing song voice from above.

Today was going to be different.

Grabbing a large stick that was lying in one of the various vases in the restroom, you began your descent once more.

Climbing down, you noticed the lights had been turned off once more. Doing the same as you did the first time you felt up against the natural wall of the cave before you hit the switch from the walls.

The light turning on revealed a much more disturbing scene from the last time you were down.

Dried blood.

Everywhere.

The rusty smell disguises itself under the moist and earthy scent of the cave.

It seemed something got attacked down here.

You carefully tread with bare feet on the earthy stone around the scene before you.

Most of the blood was concentrated in the middle of the cavernous area before a trail led to the utmost left cavern.

Maneuvering quietly, you thanked the archons. Your nausea was at bay for the first time all day, or you'd have surely vomited in the humid cavern.

Thankfully, it seemed the switch's power extended to the cavern, really illuminating the long trail as whoever or whatever carried itself this way.

Finally reaching the back of the long cavern, you found nothing.

Literally, not even a trail of blood remained in the area. no corpse or sign of the person left.

The iron bars surrounded the area.

A makeshift prison.

Chilled, you kept your investigation mode on, examining every rock and iron bar.

But nothing came of the cavern.

Or the one next to it.

It wasn't until you wandered to the last worn path that you heard the familiar breeze of the mountain create a draft as you walked further inside.

Eventually, you took a windy path before the natural sunlight of the sky poured into the passage.

Practically running, you raced towards the opening of the cave. cautiously approaching the edge of the cave, listening for any suspicious sounds. Cursing yourself for the lack of elemental energy, you armed yourself with the stick before you stepped one foot out.

Entering the sunlight by yourself was a right you took for granted.

Overwhelmed by the familiar image of the mountain ranges and various wooden bridges in the distance, you knew.

"It finally took you long enough.”

At first, you thought an annoying mirage had formed above you. Craning your neck up with your stick, you pointed up at your possible threat.

Her mauve lips only upturned in an amused smile as she giggled behind her hands.

“I knew it was bad, but not this bad; my last subordinate would threaten me with a stick." She brushed her hair behind her ear from her spot on the tall tree branch above. 

Patting on the tall branch as an invitation for you to come join her only made you scowl in response.

"Fine, stay down there, but those two annoyances are going to spot you and blow your cover.” Yelan pointed to the downward natural path beside you.

Lunging with your stick, you reached the tree branch with no hesitation, perching in a squat beside Yelan.

“Why are you here?” You asked, crossing your arms.

“Same reason you're here." She stretched her arms above her head briefly.

“I wanted to see if you took the Regerator down or if that blood was from you,” she quietly laughed.

“So you're saying the blood wasn't from you murdering all of the fatui down there?” You rolled your eyes.

“Not yet,” she smiled as she poked your nose.

Flicking her hand in retaliation, you both paused as you looked down the mountain path.

Eventually the laugh slipped from your mouth, leading Yelan to follow in your footsteps. Her infectious laugh a comforting sound, reminding you of the time before being undercover.

when you and Yelan were just subordinates.

“So I'm going to assume then you don't know what occurred down there either.”

You nodded, only shrugging.

“I can't be a useful source since when I first stumbled upon the passage leading to that makeshift prison, I couldn't wander further inside, but I do recall no blood was in there yet.” 

“It may be a good sign." Yelan interjected, “The passage you just came out of was manmade,” her finger pointed at the jagged edges the entrance had, “the prisoner escaped down the cliff to down the mountain.” 

“They must have had a vision,” you deduced as you looked down the misty mountain range below.

It was Yelan's turn to nod in silent acknowledgement.

“Hang on, how did you find this place? I don't even know where I am,” you exclaimed.

Yelan only raised a perfect brow.

“Im not kidding, I snuck into the prison from the bathroom in Pantalones master bedroom looking for an escape.” 

Yelan looked back at the cavern opening once more in thought.

“We found Dan, but he was dead at the base of this mountain, concealed in the amber." Yelan shrugged before looking down at the base of the mountain.

“I decided to scout the area to see if any activity would occur when I found camps of fatui surrounding this entire mountain.” 

You leaned in, listening intently with interest as Yelan looked cautiously around.

“Following a few of them led me to halfway to the mountain before I was somehow spotted, and now I'm here,” she pursed her lip.

“So what's the next step? I haven't gotten any word from inside the Fatui about what's going on or if they're involved as well,” you murmured. “Im essentially being watched everywhere I go inside his residence,” scratching your wrist out of nerves.

“Your my Fatui informant; despite what it seems like, you have a lot of value out of everyone right now,” Yelan placed a firm hand on your shoulder. “Trust me, I'll treat you to the best Liyue beer in the harbor once we catch The Regerator,” Yelan smiled.

“For now, you need to keep gaining all of their trust, no matter what it is, until you have definitive evidence and a plan. We can avenge our fallen and bring Pantalone to justice,” she passionately assured you.

For a moment, it grew silent. The mountains natural sound being amplified around the both of you.

“I have to head back, Yelan," you said as you stood up on top of the tall limb.

“As do I as well; I'm sure they assumed I slid all the way down the mountain by now at this point.”

You both laughed, Yelan rising to her feet as well, both being at eye level.

“Since I know now where you are, we can both converge higher up from here near the amber on the next waning moon this month,” she said, pointing at a small landing above the manmade mountain.

“Sounds good to me.”

“Until then, (name)” 

-

Note: Bad news and Good news:

Bad news: Im apart of the Boycotting Hoyo which means besides not playing the game and review bombing I will not be continuing this story until Hoyo stops pretending dark skin tones dont exists :D I will not argue about it as im firm on my stance and I hope everyone respects my choice and hopefully I can continue my genshin/and honkai stories once more as I really love the characters and such!

Good news: I wont be a complete asshole and since I have the rest of the 6 chapters written I will begin editing and posting those but I will not update anymore after the six one has been posted!

Again im sad I have to say all of this but I was already angry at genshin because of sumeru and then for them to do the same thing again to a group that already get talked over and their concerns and issues ignored makes me dislike them even more...

Petition + Review bomb tf out of the games on the app store btw

[aikoiya]

LoZ: LU - The Chain in the Depths

I just had a thought. How would the Links react to the Depths?

Like, my theory is that it's actually what remains of old Hyrule from before BotW/TotK.

By that, I mean that the Deku Tree did what he said that he would in WW by using trees to reconnect the islands, which is what makes it possible for the Era of the Wild to be at the end of all 3 timelines. This is supported by how there are so many massive roots all over the place. As well as the fact that the map inside the Forgotten Temple shows that there'd been more water in Central Hyrule during Rauru's time.

But, specifically, how would the rest of the Chain react to the sheer amount of Poe Souls, the Shadow Soldiers, whether they all can see the Poe Souls & Shadow Soldiers (because, remember, apparently not everyone can according to a Yiga journal & the only entities to really make mention of the Poe Souls are the Bargainers), the Bargainers themselves, seeing the Heart Island with the green poe & the pink poe, & the Blupee Burrow?

Not to mention the implication that at least some of the Poe Souls belonged to people who died during the Calamity based on the Ancient Underground Fortress in Akkala. Also, how the triple stone mounds seem to correlate with monuments meant to honor & remember soldiers who died fighting the Calamity. All being at what appeared to be places where great battles took place.

I remember a fic suggesting that the Poe Souls were the souls of people who'd died excavating the Zonaite for the Zonai. However, the thing is that while I could see that being the case for a few of them, I don't think that's the whole story.

I think that the Depths are something of a liminal space where the dead of Hyrule just gather before moving on & that it has become a reflection of the Surface. "As above, so below" & all that. This is supported by, as mentioned before, the state of the Ancient Underground Fortress in Akkala.

This liminality can be partially attributed to having been saturated with magical water for millennia before the Zonai drained it.

And the "as above, so below" phenomenon could be due to the fact that in the Downfall & Child Timelines, Hyrule was lower in elevation while the Hyrule that the Deku Tree would've recreated would obviously have been at a much higher elevation. And when whatever it was that supposedly merged the 3 timelines back together (*cough*War of Ages*cough*) took place, plus the land beneath being saturated with magic, could've intrinsically linked the Surface with the Depths in a way that one simply doesn't see anywhere else. (Not that this is the case, but it's a possibility, I believe.)

And if this is the case, then it'd still allow for landmarks from previous games to appear on the Surface.

It's also possible that what actually fasilitated the merge in the first place was that the War of Ages allowed for things from all 3 timelines to also exist in the other 2, which may have allowed them all to create an inevitable outcome: The Era of the Wild. And once all 3 had a major enough event in common, it allowed for the merge to solidify. (But that's honestly little more than hairbrained speculation on my part.)

However, if this is the case, then it's possible that Ganondorf returning in the Adult Timeline could've simply been a very convenient excuse to cause the Great Flood which would've been a linchpin in allowing for the merge to happen at all.

Hell, it's even possible that had this perceived merge not taken place, then perhaps there wouldn't have been an Era of the Wild. Or a Wild, for that matter.

Also something to note is that we don't know how the Depths looked before the Zonai arrived, nor do we know how they looked during Rauru's reign.

Either way, I'd very much like to see someone go into this. Possibly even with Spirit in the Chain.

There's theories that he'd have what amounts to the Mind's Eye unlocked from birth. And I personally hc that the Spirit Train is used to transport the souls of the dead to the afterlife in New Hyrule, so if no one else, I def think that he'd be able to see them all. Possibly even better than Wild.

May even be able to talk to them & the Shadow Soldiers. Or just hear their final wishes if nothing else.

Fudge... imagine Wild learning that one of those Shadow Soldiers was the shade of his father desperately trying to do whatever he can to help his son... Aaaangst...

I believe this is concept art of them.

And imagine the shame of still not remembering him or the sister he once had.

Or, if he does end up getting his memories of them back & breaks down at the realization that he'd failed them. Obviously, it wasn't his fault, but let's be real here. Wild would absolutely take it that way. And imagine how much Wind would try to sympathize with him, but Wild might not appreciate it because Wind, at the very least, had been able to save his sister. Wild had failed his. (I know that it's implied that Wild's family had lived in the Hateno House.

And imagine the shock & fragile hope of learning that last his father knew, his sister was still alive & that this meant Wild might have nieces & nephews.

And now suddenly he feels so very small & strangely desperate to have just one more connection to the life he once had. Because he might not have been the same man as he was & he may even be happier now, but that does not mean that his old life was bereft of joy & love.

Perhaps, he wants a little bit of that love back. Even if only in second-hand stories of the family he hadn't quite realized until this exact moment that he lost.

Just one more thing that the Calamity pilfered from his grasp.

Or perhaps she's still alive, just incredibly old & weak & unable to even get out of bed anymore.

I also hc that FD is the Hyrulean god of death (among other things) & that the Bargainer's Statues are basically very early depictions of him.

That he created the Sheikah, who were tasked with helping the dead to move on & were once the ones who brought the Poe Souls to the Bargainer Statues in the Depths, specifically those who've trained their mind's eye. However, that has obviously changed.

Something else that I'm not sure I've seen. Time & Wind interacting with Wild's Deku Tree.

If anyone has info on the timeline & the order of the Links, it'd be him.

LoZ Linked Universe Masterlist

[tumblingxelian]

CRWBY & the White Fang - To Critique or Compliment?

There's no denying that when discussions of RWBY's quality come up, the specter of the White Fang, Blake & Faunus plot lines will almost inevitably rear their head.

So, I wanted to take some time to analyze my own critiques of CRWBY;s handling of these subjects, which thee writers themselves have said they found fault in regarding their work.

But, to also outline what I think was done well and address some common complains that I see, as I think there is a much more nuanced discussion that could be happening here.

With that in mind, lets begin:

My issues like in Issues in Execution:

CRWBY simply don't have the budget or time to give this topic the necessary breathing room to be handled with as much nuance as it needs; which at times can lead to a subject not being explore sufficiently, or a bit like in Mistral, a seemingly easy solution being applied to a complex issue. 

While I understood the logic of having Sienna supplanted as she was, and the tragedy of her death. The loss of her character and a more active counterweight to Ghira's pacifism has weakened a lot of the stronger aspects of their writing on this topic.

The plot of the series while allowing for the exploration of some of the themes at play means that in universe, characters need to logically prioritize the apocalypse witch over other matters sometimes.

My Praise is in the details:  

Faunus bigotry varies from regions to regions & country to country, in Vale it's heavily rooted in microaggressions, harassments and presumptions of guilt. In Mistrals its not only legalized to discriminate against Faunus, but there are outright lynch mobs. Meanwhile in Atlas it is blended with heavy doses of classism and the impoverished of Mantle are placed against the impoverished Faunus in the crater. 

The writers consistently acknowledge that this is a complicated issue, not in the sense of "Ooh poor bigot has a reason to be that way" but in the sense of "Fighting for a better world is hard, complicated work, where there is no a neat and tidy ending, or simple solution." Which is frankly far more realistic than I see in a lot of media that want to cap off stories with "& then bigotry was solved!" 

While Ghira has been returned to a prominent role, he outright respected Sienna Khan, and acknowledged the faults in his all too passive approached in the past. It also seems that thematically Blake is the one being set up to eventually take the reigns of the movement and seek out a path between easily exploitable militarism and all too self effacing pacificism.

Counters to Common Complaints: 

The White Fang are presented as faceless mooks -  This is indeed an issue in Volumes 1 through 3, however, it is also one CRWBY course corrected on, and I'd note Blake is also meant to be our primary window into the White Fang. What's more, the radicalization of the White Fang took time, with Sienna's era notably having actually seen genuine progress for Faunus, before Adam ended it in fire and blood.

What's more, if we look at resistance movements like the real world IRA, we will see that they too can start out using moderated violence, only to be co opted by self serving despots who harm their own people as well as others, so their shift is not exactly unrealistic.

Making a victim like Adam a villain is in poor taste -  A questionable claim as I think that is all down to execution and he's hardly the only character like that, & there's many others who overcame similar issues, so tis hardly "Abuse makes you evil."

But more to the point, given how a lot of people who have dealt with abusive stalkers, including those who weaponized their own history of abuse or trauma for sympathy said he was the most realistic portrayal of an abuser they've seen, I think there's a great deal of merit to his portrayal.

I would also note that the philosophical stance, "X person was a victim and therefore cannot be bad" is a poor and rather problematic idea. Because there is no demographic of person that makes one incapable of causing harm. Plus, Adam's life and death is still framed as a tragedy, despite all the harm he did, his life still had innate worth even to the people he hurt most.

(Well, the one's still alive anyway XD)

The White Fang being antagonists is corporate/military apologia -  I already addressed most of this above, but I wanted to re-center it because I had some interesting thoughts to share. Specifically how in another show this would be true, but it's not true in RWBY.

Because in most shows where the freedom fighters/terrorists are villainized, the institutions they target are propped up and defended, where its claimed, even if they are "flawed" they are "better", "Necessary", or more "well meaning" than the rebels.

Not true in RWBY

The SDC is every bit as bad as it's advertised, and Jac outright enables the villains in a selfish bid for power to protect his own wealth. Ironwood, who in other shows would be the "Good military man" type, reveals himself to be a craven coward and despot.

Ironwood and Adam's character songs even hit on the same themes of egotism and entitlement. Adam's is angrier & Ironwood's more grandiose because of their respective life experience, but they are men cut from a very similar cloth & playing similar roles amongst their peers and in the wider narrative.

Blake was originally a street kid, her being a princess is bad- That's not true in both cases and I appreciate CRWBY subverting the tired trope of "Violent minority girl gets saved and civilized by nice Caucasian girls" the post below goes into more detail on that: https://www.tumblr.com/kkglinka/176246425849/rwby-racial-trope-inversion?source=share 

Conclusion:

Ultimately, RWBY grew beyond, explored or outright subverted a lot of the usual issues that come attached with these complaints and had a lot more nuanced stuff to say on the subjects they tackled.

Even with their issues in tackling these subjects, I feel that there is much more interesting stuff to talk about than a lot of what I usually see come up when this subject comes around, which is a shame.

There's room to acknowledge where there were flaws without tearing down the entire concept, or glossing over what was done well, I think.

[saphirered]

Can I please request an Astarion x reader in the style of those Snow White fics you did for Critical Role?

You've chosen angst. I'd dare say my angst game has improved since so here you go my lovely. 😘

Astarion had laughed at you for living with your head in the clouds. You were a dreamer or so he thought. It took him a while to figure out you had every intention to make your dreams come true. Delusional. Simply delusional. At least until you weren’t. You’re just like him in the end. The only difference is that you have exactly the amount of world-bending willpower needed to achieve your goals whereas he lingers in the shadows, lies and cheats and didn’t get a single step closer to his freedom until that bloody tadpole, until you came along. He’d laugh at you while bending that power of yours to his will, until you would be wrapped around his finger. That lasted all of a few days. You weren’t exactly oblivious and he may have messed up massively. 

He thought you’d stake him then and there several times as his story unfolded before you but to his surprise you didn’t. He’d like to thank his charm and wit for it but you’d have none of that. You did take some decent amount of pleasure in making him grovel after all. Things were good. Astarion found it within himself to actually allow himself to live and not just survive another sunrise. Your presence is simply refreshing. You seemed to enjoy it too and so it became a thing of equal trade, at least for him. For every thing you offered him he would offer in return an equal, to balance the scales like some transaction, like handing gold to a vendor. Though he could not steal back what he gave. For once Astarion was perfectly alright paying his dues. Over time it stopped being a trade and he could give freely. Your persuasion more advanced than he at first let himself believe turned to verbally slap him in the face to show him he gave just as freely as you. He was being stupid. 

You’d shown him what it means to care. You show him how to love and care and be free. Despite what he might have believed, that tadpole that protected him now, he’s not free. He’s on the run and despite what he might tell himself and others, he doesn’t truly believe killing Cazador will set him free. Deep within his heart he knows. Astarion has forgotten what it means to be free but you can show him, you can teach him, and when he is with you he gets a taste of what it means to hold that freedom, to hold you. Much like that sweet sanguine red beneath the skin, you are intoxicating, addicting and there’s no way back now. You’re with him. You’re his. 

Yet here he is on his knees holding your lifeless body. You’re not responding to your name. He’s screamed and shouted until his throat burned with rage and fury and pain until no sound would emit but it’s futile. That heartbeat of yours has gone still. The gentle rise and fall of your chest has as well. Your fingertips are growing cold along with the rest of your body. You’re in stasis, as good as dead. In a way you are dead. What he did to the puppet Cazador sent his way is but a mere consolation prize; useless and a waste. 

Refusing to let go of you, the resident healer had failed. Potions and spells were no use it seemed.  Bargains weren’t good enough for the cursed entities some of these similarly afflicted escapees entwine themselves with. Revenge had rooted in Astarion’s cold dead heart long ago but never had it burned stronger than now. It made him realise the lengths he would go for you; a terrifying reality but not unwanted if he could have you. He’d let the world burn if he’d have you at his side. So here he is taking you to temple after temple only to be turned away. He’s this close to resorting to the exact horrors his former master resorted to but there is hope yet. A hefty price but one he is willing to pay. Astarion will never tell you what he gave up for this chance. You’d never forgive him. You’d be alive, awake and at his side forever. You’ll just have to keep living in this wonderful dream world of yours; the one you shape by your actions. You never need know the truth. 

“When you wake up, darling, you’ll be none the wiser. I intend to keep it like that. I’ll shower you with love and gifts if it keeps this truth hidden from you. I’ll bury it like I have buried so many but for once it pains me to do so. You could call it a guilty conscience I suppose. Don’t think I’m going soft. This lapse in judgement is only for you.” 

He strokes your hair as you lay in the centre of a ritual circle. Your head is in his lap. The final glow of the sigils light your features until there is only darkness. Still he sees you, your features still so ashen but then the arcane lights spark to life offering a dim glow, and with it, ever so slowly a gentle thud. Once. Twice. Thrice. Thud-thud. Thud-thud. A heartbeat. He could have cried. Perhaps that was the cold sensation streaming down his cheek. He’s not quite sure. The flush to your skin begins returning as your heartbeat picks up to a normal place. You’ve yet to open your eyes. You’ve yet to awaken but your body is alive. Astarion sighs in relief. Seconds turn into minutes turn into hours. It’s not funny anymore.

“I beg for very little things in my life and you’ll be very satisfied to have me begging for you but please, please wake up. I need you to open your eyes, to let me know you’re truly alive. Please pull me out of this never ending nightmare.” He clasps your hand in his resting it over your chest. Astarion squeezes your hand but there’s no resistance, no squeeze back. Just… nothing. He brings it to his lips, kisses the back of your hand before he lays it back at your side. Gently he lifts your head from his lap and rests you down on the cold stone floors. He studies your features as if he might forget you altogether.

“Seven thousand souls. That’s all it takes.” He rises onto his knees, taking that dreaded staff. “Seven thousand to save two.” Astarion feels no regret when he slams it into the floor, power crackling throughout the stone and air and everywhere. He burns like the sun. He doesn’t know if it’s his screams or the cacophony of the ones who will perish in this ritual, in this ascension. 

Everything grows quiet. No words. No sounds. None save for the beat of your heart, the gasp that emits from your lungs as air is forced back into your lungs. You were within darkness, floating in the abyss without any sense of self one moment and the next you are here, wherever here is. Metal clatters on stone and you shoot into a sitting position. Before you have the chance to look for its origins you are engulfed into an embrace. You’re held close against a bare chest. The touch is familiar and so you relax. 

“Astarion?” You mumble no longer used to the sound of your own voice. He pulls back enough to look you in the eye. His fingers graze your cheek as if he’s not quite sure you’re real. There’s something off about him. Shivers trickle down your spine. You can see it in his eyes, hidden under that relief and acceptance there is pain and some regret but no remorse. 

“Yes, my darling?” Astarion tries desperately to keep that new flow of power coursing through his veins under tabs, keep it from showing and scaring you away. Who says he could not profit from this whole predicament. The side effects of your salvation came with great benefits for him. Whatever question you had falls silent on your lips when he slowly leans in and places his lips over yours. One kiss turns into another and another. The world lays forgotten. You’re alive. You’re within his arms. The past lies buried now, along with the dust of seven thousand innocents. It is a blood price he is willing to pay and would pay another thousand times over if that’s what it took. 

[hillbillyoracle]

What Made My Life Better in 2023

One of the things I'm thinking about a lot as I get ready for 2024 is what actually made an impact for me in the last year. It was interesting to think through because it was neither what I expected nor what I had always heard would help me. Instead it was often small changes that stacked into something much more helpful and interesting when put together.

I wanted to share them in case it's helpful for anyone else.

#1 - Adaptive Cleaning

While I still use elements of other cleaning systems, the base of what I do is firmly rooted in Sarah McGlory's Adaptive Cleaning ideas. I started implementing it about halfway through the year in earnest, though I stumbled upon it a year or two ago, and it's made a huge difference. This is the cleanest my space has ever been and the fewest flares I've ever had and I genuinely do credit her ideas for being a big reason for that.

#2 - My Care Kit

About halfway through the year I also threw together this care kit that I keep by my bed. It has everything I need to do my skincare, brush my teeth, and do my makeup - all without leaving my bed. While I've felt embarrassed at just how much it's done for me, I think it's a great example of "do what works." I just don't like get up once I've sat down for the evening. And it's easier to get up if I already have all that stuff done. Not only have I kept up with skincare and other habits probably the best out of any point in my life, but the mood and self esteem boost it gives me has allowed me to do more of what I want in other areas too.

#3 - 750 Words

I start using 750 Words on a whim. I had liked doing morning pages but could never really keep up with them, especially on days when I was really struggling with my hands. I wound up really taking to it and have only missed a few days since I started in November. I wound up paying for a year of it because I'm that certain of it's benefit. I've written way more for my zines, my mental health is a little better, and it serves as an anchor habit for several others. I love the simplicity of it. I can usually crank out my freewrite for the day in about 10 minutes - I like 10 minutes being my new minimum versus the zero it was.

#4 - Laundry Day

This might seem obvious or silly to you but as someone who has tried a lot of cleaning routines, I was so used to the a load a day rule that I never questioned it. That is until I read Dana K. White's book How To Manage Your Home Without Losing Your Mind. She talks about her laundry system and it just completely changed my perspective. Laundry day has given me so much of my time back and I more regularly do more of our laundry. I'm sure other people were aware this was an option but I guess I needed someone to tell me.

#5 - Connecting with a Sangha

I'd been putting off connecting with a Sangha for a while. I knew I wasn't going to be in a place to go in person (I'm about an hour and a half any moderate sized city) and only meeting online felt like a pale imitation. But I was wrong. I got connected with the Furnace Mountain Zen Center based here in Kentucky and started attending more of their weekday meditation sessions and at home day retreats as I was able. It really deepened my practice and has remained a touchstone to return back to when I got through times life pulls me away. I wish I would have done it sooner. If you're Buddhist leaning in any way, I really recommend finding a Sangha - even if it's online.

I hope this sparks some ideas for other people. None of the "productivity" stuff I tried this year "worked" in the sense of sticking or allowing me to do more. The closest was probably pomodoros on a visual timer, which are genuinely helpful. But mostly it was acts of nurturance, curiosity, and care that really elevated my life this year.

May 2024 be even better!

[baccoamon]

♡ My thoughts on GNX. ♡

Tracks 1-4

---------

"Anita Baker in the tape deck, it's gonna be a sweet love"

On GNX Kendrick gives himself permission to return to his roots while audibly leaning into a level of frustration over the lack of integrity and passion that Kendrick believes to be missing in music of today. This project serves as a reminder of how intention and dedication to craft are the foundation to a great artist and a necessity for any who wish to stand the test of time.

Kendrick is in full form as he doesn't shy away from cementing his position in the timeline of hip hop and wears the crown proudly as he clearly shows his passion for the past and future of the genre. Which leaves us with an album which at first glance could be assumed to be a victory lap for the Compton born artist after a monumental year that solidified his ability to out create, think, and battle his elite list of peers. But I'd like to highlight a beautiful narrative piece that pulls this collection of records into the conceptual world that we have grown to expect from a Kendrick Lamar album.

The Buick GNX

This is the narrative device he uses to carry the listener through his insights and passions surrounding the west coast, morals, his views on integrity, Hip Hop, and even his past lives. Kendrick makes an effort to emphasize his dream car, as well as the music and personalities that would be sharing the seats with him as he rides through the lives and history of LA culture.

Kendrick commands space on this release in a way that one could assume to be juxtapositioning 2022's "Mr. Morale & The Big Steppers", however, astute listeners will notice that this is a direct progression of the introspective therapy session we were granted insight to on said record. GNX is a roaring list of rules of engagement, a thematic element that Kendrick reiterates throughout the project. As well as being a car, the title could refer to GEN-X, the current political and social leaders of our age which have been characterized as the ones who created the society of "crash out" prone and destabilized youth of "Young [REDACTED]" that are filled with resentment due to their lack of guidance and disdain for their sociopoltical foundation from which they never consented to and have been consistently mislead within. Emphasizing the generational conversation that speaks throughout this work.

Kendrick's bravado on this record stems from a place of centering himself and by doing so standing on tested principles and insights that will allow him to be a worthy competitor and a more powerful presence due to the protections of his own introspection, spirituality, and lessons from his elders as well as past lives. This is the same message he is giving to the youth, a message of self actualization and self study while packaged in a strong presence of hard work and status. Though it should be noted he coyly undermines the pursuit of status when it is not done so with authenticity and integrity.

"I feel your presence here, last night, and we began to weep."

These are the first words heard on the project. Sung in Spanish by the Los Angeles native Deyra Barrera. Her voice chills the air on the first listen, settling into one's flesh as her voice is paired with traditional Mexican mariachi guitars as a clear homage to he Intersectionalities of the cultural history within LA. These reflective and mournful words are tied into the integral themes of the project. It is not by accident to utilize this voice as Barrera's Mexican ancestry can be seen within Kendricks own ideas around death and ancestry. Undoubtedly from the Intersectionalities and philosphical melting pot of LA. With these words Kendrick is in the presence of the past. The GNX a throwback to times gone, his sentimental nostalgia for greats of the past, of morals that are no longer valued, and of his past life's and elders who's lessons protect him even now. The line "we began to weep." Empahizes a togetherness, a collective presence. Kendrick is acknowledging that he did not make it here on his own. His history is not a singular soul nor body. He is standing in the footsteps of those before but has finally accepted that he is a giant in his own right, humbled only by the passing of time which his elders remind him of with their very presence.

"Wacced Out Morals"

Opens with an aggression left mostly to Kendricks one off singles and features. Rarely are we blessed with a straightforward "fuck a double entendre" approach from Kendrick and it serves the messaging on the track perfectly. Over the DJ Dahi and Sounwave led production Kendrick airs out his grievances with his current peers and the elder statesmen of hip hop. He notes how his recent beefs and tension could have ended with money being funneled to these "crash dummies", or the "Young [REDACTED] addressed early in my insights, which would have led to not only the loss of his life but the disruption of his mission and community within LA and further. This brings a chilling recollection of the death of the great Nipsey Hussle. Someone Kendrick grieved publicly on his infamous "The Heart Part 5". He uses this track as a trial of the culture, one where he positions himself as a tried and true student of the streets and hustle culture that hip hop claims to uphold but in his eyes has used only for profit and false intentions. As the track continues he levels himself to the heights of greats within the genre by expressing resentments towards Lil Wayne and Snoop Dogg for not showing a level of respect he felt was deserving for his work. After a quick nod to the NY legend Nas he sets his mark on

what he perceives to be the false personalities of the industry and revels in the idea that as a self proclaimed man of integrity he can now move in his own light and power for these false faces have been removed and as those masks drop, his true enemies are exposed. Marking himself as a clear target but one which can also fire back with an accuracy and ferocity that he seems to be comfortable in. He addresses those who wish to find their own power with one simple message.

"Go and up your Rank... know you a god, even when they say you ain't."

- "Squabble Up" -

"God knows, I am. Reincarnated, I was star gazing..."

These words are paired with a heaving of breath as Kendrick calls upon the concept of his reincarnation and introduces a disrespectful and self affirming dance inspired single.

The casette changes to Debbie Debs 1983 hit "When I hear music" as Kendrick takes us on an uptempo spin around the block. This long awaited anthem left us craving the entire record after famously appearing as the snippet for the internet breaking "Not Like Us" it speaks on the ability to stand on your square while leaning on ones individual "politics. Kendrick feels confident and willing to take his opposition's character into account before he takes aim. He comments on federal relationships in the industry which is a clear attack on false identities as well as quid pro quo. This is Kendrick saying he is done with transactional love and is willing to go to war for his just dues. Notably, lesser known producers M-Tech and Bridgeway work with Sounwave and Jack Antonoff to create the perfect soundscape for such a message.

- "Luther" -

As everyone should be aware. No nighttime ride around your favorite city is complete without the beautiful vocals of Luther Vandross as well as a passenger. The first of our fellow passnegeres enters with SZA joining us for the ride. The cassette clicks over to a beautiful instrumentation of rising strings and a soft guitar section. This is a love story caught dancing in the wheels of a night time drive in California. The record carries the same credited producers as "Squabble up" but the additions of Rose Lilah of production fame for the first beat on Baby Keem's Family Ties as well as the ever stunning Kamasi Washington makes this record one of the most gorgeous pieces on the album. It samples Cheryl Lynn and Luther Vandross' 1982 song "If This World Were Mine". Hope and Love are the central themes as well as the ability to use the power of love as an empowerment.

"If this world was mine, I'd take your enemies in front of God, introduce them to that fire"

A beautiful piece of writing that uses colloquialisms and spins them to emphasize a divine connection to smite a lovers adversaries or qualms. SZA sounds of the heavens themselves as her and Kendrick's vocals waltz between the lyrics and melodies. Speaking of coping with optimism and better days to come. This dance of pure devotion and redemption again centers a deep love as the ultimate power against adversity and uncertainty. A monumental record that I believe will be a jewel in his discography for ages.

- "Man at the garden" -

Here, Kendrick reaches for a different spirit to medium. This record made me brake to a screeching halt on the first listen. Two songs in particular come to mind. Two records that would undoubtedly be in Kendrick's history lessons as well as his tape deck. Two spirits that Kendrick would love to channel and pay homage to. Those two records being "One Mic" and "Starin' Through My Review" by Nas and Tupac respectively. The muted soft synth chords as well as pull back instrumentation from our producer ensemble are aided by the ears of Craig Balmoris from "Best Kept Secret" and a producer with not much under his belt by the name of Tyler Mehlenbacher. The haunting affirmation of "I Deserve it All" is a call upon what Kendricks ancestors are giving him. He believes he has earned every drop of admiration and respect that he has garnered. He declares his public "crash out" as he refuses to be undone by people lower than him and has decided there is no more room for one who has done the work to return to self to be quiet or humble with what they deserve. This brings to mind a particular line from "Wesley's Theory", the opening to 2015s "To Pimp A Butterfly" where the devil or uncle sam is pushing Kendrick towards the pitfalls of hedonism with the phrase "get it all, you deserve it, Kendrick"

Interestingly enough, it seems that same message has reached Kendrick almost a decade later but now with his luxuries being earned and gifted benevolently by his ancestors.

"Every reason why my ancestors sent me, Bitch, deserve it all. "

He speaks an affirmation of allowance. Of gratefulness. But also of disrespect to those who would deny him. And the lines prior show a confident spirit, an ancestor that Kendrick has evoked and held medium before on the same project that "Wesley's Theory" was born from. That spirt being Tupac Shakur.

Tupac and Kendrick have a number of instances where their philosophies overlap and I believe Kendrick to hold Tupac at a level of reverence much higher than most when compared to other legends of the genre. The line

"Writin words, tryin to elevate these children."

summons the ethos of Tupac in a way that shows how deeply the now mythical artist has effected Kendricks philosophies and self purpose. Tupac, much like the entirety of GMX preached a balance of self education, self affirmation, love for community, love for children, and the ability to crash out. Kendrick is Plato to this hip hop Socrates and finalizes this record with a triumphant and well earned decloration. That he believes himself to be the greatest of all time.

[justanotherblogger]

My theory is that Mimzy was once Alastor’s best friend, he maybe even thought he might have been in love with her at one point, in that manner aroace people who don’t know they’re aroace often do, that she was then sacrificed by this cult, and that Alastor had them infiltrated and taken down every member of that cult over decades, losing more and more of himself each time as those he killed grew less and less directly connected to the crime, “sorry you just got in my way, maybe I enjoy it just a little bit does that make me insane”, but that in the act of doing so, that contradiction of righteous intent and pure depravity, along with whatever ritual for power the cult had initially started upon, let’s say in honour of Roo (the root of all evil in the Hellaverse, a character yet to be introduced), and that on Alastor’s eventual death, he then found himself in Hell all-powerful, and set about bringing down those Overlords beneath his power continuing this moral code, until he hit a wall, finding himself having ended all Overlords less powerful than him / otherwise came to his senses on meeting Mimzy again and finding her to have gone to hell, recognising that “weren’t you an old pal of mine” and really nothing more and deciding mere power, entertainment is all he now desires. But that still, out of obligation, that he must kill Lucifer, the Devil, for a sense of completion, while still being allowed to exist himself afterward. Which leads to whatever deal he ended up trapped in seven years before the events of the series, and him getting Charlie to make a deal with him to “harm no one” at a certain point in the future: to ensure that when the time comes that he will be able to kill Lucifer, and the one person able to stop him won’t be able to. To really make Alastor a true Exterminator, more measured, the embodiment of how the road to Hell is paved with good intentions.

Huh, interesting take! I didn't think the Insane song was canon, but maybe I was just misinformed. I've never really thought of Alastor having his path of vengence and righteousness leading him towards hell, but I can see a lot of potential with it!

How Alastor had been barely keeping it together in his life already, and the one person he really cares about gets killed by a freaky cult? Yeah, I'd understand his murder spree now.

Maybe the cult ate Mimzy's body for the ritual, and Alastor returned the favor, starting his cannibalistic tendencies. But I'm not sure because Mimzy didn't have any indication of that on her sinner form from what we've seen.

I also saw a similar theory with the exterminator Alastor part, where he might've originally been in heaven, but when forced through the exterminator program, let his violent tendencies take over.

I do like the cult part. Maybe this caused what Alastor was referring to when he had his interlude in the finale song, with red eyes (that I just noticed after a rewatch) following him from his crash sight to the radio tower.

Those eyes look very similar to Roo's concept art. Maybe Roo found him because he killed a lot of her followers and made a contract with him to keep him under her thumb in the long run, making sure he doesn't interrupt her plans again.

[sanctuary1988]

~ Veil Of Temptation |8| Gwi

French: /the petals of love/

Pairing: Gwi x fem! noble! Reader

Summary: A heartless vampire falls in love for the first time in centuries of loneliness. Passion, secrets, betrayal and love drown the royal palace. Will your love for Gwi prevail through time or will it wither away like a fallen rose petal? Maybe love was his punishment, maybe love was your salvation. Or wasn't it a curse to you both? Because, who can beat a race against time? Who can love in the dark? Who can love without truth? After all, even the most beautiful flower will wither away and end in ashes of time, remembered only by the one who cherished her the most.

Warnings: strangers to lovers?, fluff, angst, TENSION (again), general vampire stuff (blood, biting, mentions of killing people), threats, mentions of illness, crying, power play, secrets, period typical misogyny, age gap (huge), dark romance, conflicting emotions, feelings of lingering and wishing for someone/something, historical! AU, royal! AU?, cannon copilant, (let me know if I missed anything!)

Word Count: 4.5k words

A/N: Welcome to chapter 8, darlings! Tagging @yumisventingmachine and @my-day6 because they are sweethearts who like this story! Thank you so much for the support this story is getting, and please let me know your thoughts in the comments! I'd love to hear from you, loves. Enjoy! 🫶🫶🫶

*A/N: There's a poem I wrote for this story that you'll find in this chapter, I do not allow for it to be used in any other media or to be reposted/translated.

The underground palace was a world of shadows and whispers, where every corner held secrets and every corridor whispered of ancient desires. It was the home of Gwi, the vampire lord that ruled over Goryeo, master of the night. And yet, that very same powerful vampire was pacing back and forth in his throne room as his mind was completely and utterly plagued with thoughts of you, his sweet flower. 

He heard your laugh among his thoughts and saw your smile during his dreams. The roots of your existence were tangling around his heart and there was nothing he could do to stop it. For the first time in centuries, despite his grand power, he was left at your mercy. A cruel fate to face. A damnation he was willing to go through it all. 

Gwi continued to pace around, his mind swimming with so many thoughts, so many desires it made his soul burn. The hands that had held you so tenderly last night clenched at his sides. Then there was the memory of your scent. Oh, that sweet scent, sweeter than honey. Addictive to him. 

Yet his thoughts were not allowed to wander that far as when he turned around, he saw you walking down the path that led to your room. Your eyes locked with his and you bowed down softly before entering the throne room, your steps were elegant. Calculated. And he marvelled at the way you existed. Like a true lady. Like his lady. 

“My Lord.”

You curtsied the moment you stood in front of him and had you been looking at him you would have noticed the subtle smirk on his lips. He liked the way you respected him, you served him, you moved around him. 

Without a word, you walked past him and toward the hallway opposite, where the library was at the very end of the hall. Gwi looked at you, his eyes turning crimson for a second before they returned to their usual chocolate colour that drowned you in its deepness. He followed you, silently so that you barely noticed him. If only it hadn’t been for his large shadow walking behind you, then you wouldn’t have been able to tell he was there. 

He walked where you had walked, as if he were your guardian. Your protector. In a way, he was. His eyes ran down your figure, admiring your hair cascading down your back, the puffiness of your purple skirt as your steps made it trail down behind you with utter elegance. 

“Did you finish reading your story?”

You hummed, remembering the tale that had left you heartbroken. You smiled softly as you turned to look at him over your shoulder. 

“I did.”

“How was it?”

His attempt at small-talk made you chuckle softly and the sound was delightful to the vampire lord. 

“It broke my heart.”

He frowned at your response, but he didn’t get to say anything else as you turned around and walked into the magnificent sanctuary of books, leaving him to trail behind you with a frown in his ethereal features. 

“I don’t want you to read anything that will make you sad, petal. There are many books here, so choose something else.”

You turned around with a teasing look in your (e/c) eyes, you lifted an eyebrow at him with a subtle challenging energy that made a warm shiver run down his spine. 

“Not every story has a happy ending, My Lord.”

“I don’t want you to be sad.”

“I am not sad.”

You gulped as he was now standing closer to you, the distance was shortening and your heart was racing. The tension was palpable and you wondered if he could hear just how fast your heart was beating inside your chest. Not knowing that, in fact, he could listen; making him narrow his eyes down at you.

“Your tears are like pearls, flower. They may hide beauty within but they are painful to witness.”

Your hands trembled next to you so you were forced to tangle them in front of you to stop them from shaking and from him to notice just how nervous he made you feel. 

“I didn’t know you liked poetry.”

But instead of your response coming out sassy and strong, it came out in a soft and airy voice. Feeling as if your heart was about to explode as he took another step forward that you had to crane your neck up to keep the eye contact. 

“Choose another book, sweet flower.”

His tone was as soft as yours. But just as deep as always. You were forced to break eye contact or else you feared you’d melt right then and then. You took a deep breath, your eyes focusing on the books on the shelves around you yet you could still feel his intense stare on you. It crawled on you like a vice grip, his eyes scanned yours as you pretended to read the titles of the many books and scrolls around you. Then they travelled to your lips, completely mesmerised by the way you softly bit your lower lips in feign concentration. You outstretched your hand and his eyes glued to it, so soft and delicate at the sight. 

And he could testify to such softness, reminiscing those times where his larger palm had held yours. Oh, how jealous he was of the book you grabbed for it was graced by your silked touch. The temptation was there. To grab your hand and caress your precious skin. But he refrained himself. He had to. 

Your scent lingered in the air. A scent so addictive to him that his eyes threatened to paint crimson with the passion of his desires. You walked around the magnificent sanctuary of books, completely unaware of the inner turmoil the vampire lord was facing as he sat at one of the tables and pretended to read.

If only you knew how much effect your mere presence was causing him you would have left in a hurry. In fear of his thoughts. In fear of his actions. Trembling for your life and cursing yourself for taking the deal he offered you ever so tantalisingly easy. But you didn't know. You lived in your sweet ignorance and crystalline innocence that Gwi envied so much. 

“Have you read all these books, My Lord?”

He couldn't see you. But your voice carried your essence that he could picture you standing in front of him and gazing up at him with those eyes full of curiosity. He couldn’t see you but he could smell you. He knew you were standing behind him before you spoke another word. You walked in front of him and those expressive eyes of yours were looking at him expectantly. 

“I have, yes.”

If possible, your eyes widened in surprise at his answer. You looked around the big place before you glanced back at the man sitting with a relaxed posture on one of the cushions on the ground. 

“It must have taken you years to do so!”

Gwi nearly smiled at your voice laced with surprise and enthusiasm. But he was forced to suppress it for the need of your sweet blood was getting stronger the more you stood before him. 

If only you knew…

He thought to himself as his eyes glanced back down at the book that was spread open on his lap. His eyes danced over the enchanting symbols as he pretended to read once more while in reality, his mind was plagued by thoughts of the sweet flower who stood next to him. 

You sighed to yourself, walking away from the mysterious man who read in his own silent thoughts. You walked away from him, your mind pushing the thoughts of Gwi at the very back so that the little distance between you both wouldn’t make you want to rush back to his side. You had to occupy your mind and so you wandered around, your eyes scanning the different scrolls around you as you immersed yourself in the world he had presented to you in such a glorious way. 

The vampire lord sighed to himself before he closed the book on his lap. He could hear your steps as you walked around the library, he could smell your delicious scent and he could nearly taste your sweet blood. He had to leave. Leave and feed on another so that his temptation wouldn’t end your life. 

“Are you leaving, My Lord?”

His eyes closed as he tried to get his instincts under control. Your delicate voice was like an alluring siren’s song. Tempting him further. Almost as if you wanted to watch him fall into his primal urges. As if you knew how low he could fall if he were to stay a second longer in that room. In your presence.

“Go back to your room, petal.”

You clutched the book to your chest at his sudden harsh tone. It took you aback and you felt your heart racing within you. But even with his harshness and cold words he still called you with his term of endearment. He still called you “petal”. So, despite the darkness that had suddenly creeped up into his soul, he didn’t cast you out. He didn’t push you away. Or at least that was what you chose to think. 

“Is everything alright, My Lord? Do you need anything?”

“Go to your room.”

He didn’t even look at you. And the coldness that he so suddenly was showing made your soul shiver with emotions that made your heart shake with uncertainty. You clutched the book tighter against your body as he walked away, not once looking back at you. Not once did he return to that man that held you dear. He transformed into a cold soul, a cold soul everyone else knew about. Not because he wasn’t that man, but because he hadn’t shown that face to you in particular. 

You were left standing in the library alone with your heart in your throat as confusion clouded your mind like thick morning fog. You frowned to yourself, for you had not once seen Gwi this distant all of a sudden. Not during the time you had been serving him. Not since you took the deal he offered. And so, you worried over the handsome stranger that had begun to show you a world you were completely unaware of. 

The vampire lord left his underground palace in a hurry. The sun had just set and the sky was tainting in beautiful hues of orange and pink as the darkness seemed to creep in while the moon began to rise. His hands trembled ever so subtly as he fought with himself to control his instincts. 

Gwi hated it. He hated how easy it seemed for him to lose his composure. How easy you made it for him to lose his control. How hungry he got for your blood with your mere scent. And how desperate he had grown for your touch. A touch of a flower with very sharp thorns. He was sure if he were to grab you, he’d bleed. But the wound was worth the pleasure of having you. 

So he fled into the night. Dusk had settled and he left the sanctuary of his underground palace to try and suppress his urges, to distract his instincts from your blood. Perhaps tasting that sweet drop of the essence of your life was a mistake. The first mistake he had made in decades. The mistake that was about to cost him his sanity. At least until he fed on some blood and he was able to quench his aggressive thirst. 

Poisonous rose…

The vampire thought to himself as his fangs sank into the neck of one of the maidens in the palace. The blood was bitter with the fear of the woman who grew limp in his hold before she fell to the ground; dead. 

He sighed to himself, licking his lips as the crimson blood tainted his lips and chin. It was bitter, salty even. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t good. But nothing could ever compare to your blood. Sweet and delicious. The thirst was still there, nagging at the back of his throat, making his fingers tingle with the need to grip someone before sucking them dry. And as he hunted for his next victim during his bloody rampage, Gwi was completely unaware what was happening at the underground palace.

~

You had found a mysterious book in the library, the one you had been clutching to your chest when Gwi dismissed you coldly. You had found it among a pile of forgotten and dusty books and your curiosity had gotten the best of you. Initially, you had approached him to ask the mysterious lord about said book but his harsh words had pushed you away. Had put a wall of ice around him and casted you out, leaving you with your worries and curiosity for the man that was now in possession of your life. 

As obedient as ever, you walked back to your room and began reading the worn out book. The handwriting was beautiful. Elegantly so and intriguing on its own. And so you read. You lost yourself in the intricate words and charming rhymes of the poems that drowned the pages of the book you discovered in secrecy. 

I have lived. 

I have died. 

I am cursed. 

I was left out. 

Punish my sins. 

Reward my deeds. 

I am drowning in blood. 

Dying while being lost. 

A sudden hope, like shiny glimmer

A cursed fate, like a vast sinner. 

Don’t scream my name,

for my destiny arrived late. 

I was gone when you were born. 

I was alive when you died. 

And I sang a song,

That was never known.

Your heartstrings were being pulled as you finished reading the sad poem. It wasn’t signed and you deeply wondered who had written such a heartbreaking masterpiece. Your eyes wandered around your room before they settled on the vase with the dead roses you had picked days ago. The sight itself was depressing. How something so beautiful had such a short life. 

Closing the book, you stood up as you straightened up the purple skirt from your dress. Wanting to go out into the garden and pick more flowers to give some life to your room, the petals from the cherry blossom in your bedroom fell slowly just as melancholy wrapped your heart with a fierce grip. 

“Lady (y/n)?”

You turned around at the mention of your name only to find a girl standing at the entrance of your room. She couldn’t have been older than thirteen years-old and you deeply wondered how she had found you. 

“How did you get here?”

The girl gulped, looking around before her eyes returned to your figure as you watched her with utter curiosity. 

“I was sent by Kim Soo-jin, she told me to give you this letter…”

You raised an eyebrow at her as you watched her take an envelope from her sleeve before she was handing it to you with both hands. 

“It’s about your mother, My Lady.”

You were quick to walk to where she stood, nearly snatching the letter from her hands as worry filled your senses. With nervous eyes, you looked at the girl who was gazing up at you with big eyes. 

“Thank you, let her know I received her letter. Leave now, and don’t let anyone see you.”

She nodded before bowing at you. The girl walked away and you were left with your heart in your throat as you ripped open the envelope. Kim Soo-jin was a loyal servant of your household. She had served your mother since before you were born, and that thought only made you worry further as your eyes danced over the inked paper and your heart raced within your chest. 

Gwi walked back to the underground palace, his steps slow as he was still high off the blood he had drank. He had even lost count of how many people he had killed that night in order to quench his ravenous thirst. All because he didn’t want to hurt you. Because he didn’t want you to fear him. Because he didn’t want to kill you. 

The torches illuminated the corridor as he walked toward the throne room. His mind was hazy, instincts under a thin layer of fog in his mind as he entered his palace. What he did not expect was to see you pacing back and forth in the throne room, you were nibbling at your thumb nail as you were lost in the pits of your mind with swirling thoughts. 

You caught movement at the corner of your eye and stopped walking, turning to look at the entrance way of the magnificent room only to find Gwi standing there. Your eyes grew wide with horror as you saw his fine and elegant robes were tainted in blood. Your feet moved before you could comprehend what your body was doing and you approached him in a haste. 

“My Lord, are you alright? What happened? Are you hurt?”

If you had been looking at his eyes you would have noticed the way his cold gaze softened at your worry over him. Your eyes scanned him quickly, trying to see if he was hurt. Something about that thought made you desperate. It physically pained you to think of the possibility of him being injured in any way. 

“I told you to stay in your room.”

His words came harsher than intended but in your worry-induced state, you did not flinch. 

“You also once told me to never hide myself from you.”

In a moment of bravery, you looked up and your eyes met his. Dancing under emotions that were too thick to grasp, too liquid to understand. Too dense to acknowledge. 

“I was worried, My Lord. I am worried. You left in such a hurry…”

But he walked past you just as the words died in your lips. You looked at him as he walked towards his throne, sitting down on the elegant place where the flickering candles sharpened his features and his eyes darkened as he looked at you with all his power swimming in his dark gaze. 

“The blood… it’s not mine. 

There weren’t enough words to describe the relief you felt upon hearing those words. However, it only spiked new questions. Deeper questions. Questions that would give you answers you feared with your whole being.

“Whose blood is it then?”

He clenched his jaw at your bold question that sounded timid. Afraid almost. Afraid of the answer you’d receive if he chose to respond with the truth. 

“It doesn’t concern you, flower. What should be of your interest are my orders. I explicitly told you to stay in your room.”

You quickly lowered your gaze, feeling his eyes drowning your form as you flinched softly at his harsh tone. So cold. So distant. So inhuman. 

“Forgive me but I have to talk to you about something.”

Silence hung in the air, the tension so thick you felt as if you couldn’t properly breathe. Suffocating. Toxic. But oh so addictive. 

“Speak, then.”

You gulped, his words were snarled out, so deep and commanding you didn’t dare to look into his eyes for you knew your resolve could only be broken by his dark gaze. As dark as the night sky but also home of the most shiny stars. 

“I received a letter from my family. My mother… She is gravely ill.”

Gwi felt something stir within him at the sound of your voice. For it suddenly was soft and delicate, it lost the fierceness with which you had first confronted him. 

“And what do you propose, petal?”

He asked, his tone cold and distant despite the subtle heartache he felt at seeing your more submissive side. Your vulnerability displayed out for him to see so blatantly transparent. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions, your heart, your nerves that were wreaking havoc in your mind. 

“I wish to visit her, to be by her side in these final moments. Please, My Lord, grant me permission to leave.”

His expression hardened with worry over your request. He gritted his teeth before the vampire lord stood up from his throne and walked down the stairs until he was standing in front of you while each step echoed ominously in the almost empty room. 

“You may not be aware of this yet, flower, but the situation is not stable right now. There’s talk about a possible rebellion, unrest among the people. I cannot afford to have you leave now.”

Your heart broke as those words resonated across the walls. They were deep, both in meaning and in the tone in which they were spoken that they made a shiver run down your spine. You looked up at him with tear-filled eyes that it pulled at his heartstrings to see such pearls of sadness gathered in your enchanting eyes. 

“But she is my mother…”

So soft, so broken…

Gwi thought to himself as he drowned in your sadness. In what was going to become then your sorrow. 

“I may never see her again if I don’t go now. Please, My Lord, I beg of you.”

His gaze softened, it became that tender look he gave you and you had already grown used to seeing in his dark eyes. But he shook his head ever so softly and the tears rolled down your cheeks. 

“I understand your pain, sweet flower, but my duty is to protect you. I cannot let you go. I won’t risk it. It’s too dangerous.”

But was it really as dangerous as he spoke of? Were those words even true? Or was he simply being moved by his own selfish desires to keep you with him? For the first time in his long life, Gwi was scared of losing something. Of losing you. But perhaps that fear was already suffocating his precious flower with poisonous air. 

You felt a wave of despair wash over you, threatening to pull you further into the pit of sorrow you did not want to live in. That you did not even want to experience in your life. You dropped to your knees before him, clutching at his robes in utter desperation. The weight of his negation too heavy to carry on. 

“Please, My Lord. I’ll do anything. I will be careful and I’ll return as soon as possible. I-I just… Please, I just want to see her. To say goodbye.”

His heart shattered when your voice broke at the last sentence. Your tears rolled down your cheeks, dropping to the ground below as you fisted his robes that often trailed as he walked. He leaned down, his hand lifting your chin before your eyes met his in a sad dance of emotions that was nearly enough to make him accept. To surrender. Almost

“My decision is final. You will remain here, where it’s safe.”

His hand cupped your cheek, trying to wipe the tears that stained your soft skin only for more to roll down your face. You sighed in defeat, letting go of his robes as you slumped while you kneeled on the ground. 

You felt betrayed. Harmed by the man who wanted to protect you. Casted aside by the one who had made you feel as his equal, as his precious flower. But overall, you felt utterly and irrevocably powerless. For you knew Gwi held immense power and you were no-one to defy him, no-one to disobey such an explicit command. 

The vampire lord straightened up, looking down at you with a mix of sorrow and duty in his eyes. He knew just how much he was hurting you but his fear of losing you, his selfish desire of owning you was stronger. He wasn’t going to risk your safety, even if that meant denying your pure wish, your human wish of being with your dying mother. Even if it meant breaking your heart. 

“My Lord… I understand your duty to protect me, but this… this is tearing me apart.”

You whispered, your voice filled with anguish as your eyes met his once more but this time, your gaze was not pleading nor defying his authority. It melted into surrender. He couldn’t bear to look into your big and sad eyes, filled with such sorrow. A sadness he had provoked so he turned around, closing his eyes at how weak your voice sounded. At all the pain and hurt he had caused with just a sentence that left his lips. 

He looked back at you, his expression softer but still resolute. You still knelt on the ground, your dress puffing around you as tears rolled down your cheeks silently. 

“I do this because I care about you, petal of mine. I cannot bear the thought of losing you. I can’t.”

You nodded, your heart breaking under the weight of his words. Of his power. It made you tremble and submit to his mercy for you had taken his hand when he had offered you the deal of ending your marriage. You belonged to him. He ruled over you and you accepted that. 

“I know, but that doesn’t make it any easier.”

Your voice was choked with emotions you weren’t able to voice out. You weren’t able to cry out and scream your frustration out. You weren’t able to be angry at him. You weren’t able to fight for your choice. Not now, not ever. Gwi turned around, not being able to see you so broken, so sad. And all because he was the reason for your bitter tears. 

“Go back to your room, flower.”

He murmured before he walked away and left you in your sadness, in your solitude. He left you to drown in the sea of your silence. Your sobs were like poisoned arrows to his heart where the ice had already melted, making your pain his own burden to carry. 

His actions were born from desperation. Yours, from love. Gwi was blinded by his instincts, his rawness when it came to forgotten emotions. A veil of temptation that crushed at him like a mountain of snow that buried his heart beneath. While you were left to wither away, like a flower poisoned by the fates. In a cruel and permanent way that left your soul and mind silently screaming for a way out of your own destiny. 

What had changed for him to suddenly be so cold, you did not know. For your pain was greater with each passing second. And you were left wishing you could just disappear, for in ignorance there are no sins and in darkness there is no temptation.

May/16/2024

A/N: Thoughts? O.O

My inbox is open, darlings! Or feel free to leave a comment! I'd love to hear your thoughts and inputs for the story! Take care, everyone 🫶

~ Masterpost

[disasterbijupiter]

G Gundam side story English translation, Ch. 4 part 5 (end of Ch. 4!!)

(start from beginning) | (read previous part)

Click to view Ch. 4 content warnings!

Present Day

The Undefeated of the East and Domon listen intently to Lone Fox Seeking Defeat's monologue. 

Undefeated of the East: “I see……… So that's how you ended up having a disciple………”

Lone Fox Seeking Defeat: “That's right… That time, when I saw him it reminded me that my life had meaning……… No, perhaps I learned the meaning of life for the first time.”

Lone Fox Seeking Defeat reminisces happily.

Undefeated of the East: “And even without the intent to kill, to get you in the back with a branch……… that's a far cry from a some idiot disciple.”

The Undefeated of the East looks cynically at Domon.

Domon: “Uh………”

Domon is unable to respond. As if to gloss over it, he returns to questioning Lone Fox Seeking Defeat.

Domon: “But, where is that disciple now? Someone of such talent would have made their name known in the world of Jianghu martial arts.”

Lone Fox Seeking Defeat: “He's dead………”

Domon: “What?!”

Lone Fox Seeking Defeat: “Even thinking back on it now, I feel it's unlikely such a talented person will ever come along again……… He probably would have far surpassed me and your master, Undefeated of the East here……… and yet…… and yet, that fool!!”

Lone Fox Seeking Defeat's sadness grows stronger.

The Past

Lone Fox Seeking Defeat and her disciple can be seen practicing diligently.

Lone Fox Seeking Defeat: “As promised…… I allowed the boy to become my apprentice, and I raised him as part of the School of ‘Lone Fox Seeking Defeat’………”

Lone Fox Seeking Defeat and the child grow more passionate in their training. Bringing their fists together, the two dance like flowing water as they perform routine after routine. They throw daggers at targets, flick pebbles to fell large trees, and train with a variety of melee weapons including using gun staves, swordsmanship, chuí hammers, whips, and rings.

Lone Fox Seeking Defeat: “!!!”

Child disciple: “!!!”

The two's staves, clashing together, simultaneously break apart and snap with a loud noise.

Lone Fox Seeking Defeat: “Hahahahahahaha!!!!!”

Child disciple: “!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Smiling, the two of them laugh together.

Before long, the disciple is no longer a child but growing into a young adult.

Lone Fox Seeking Defeat (Present-Day): “I found out when I took him on as an apprentice, but he was born mute……… I'm sure that's part of the reason for his strength of heart……… In the end, I never once heard my disciple’s voice……….”

The young disciple silently smiles.

Lone Fox Seeking Defeat: “And yet, I had the most amazing disciple ever, and I was living a truly satisfying life……… It felt unbelievable that I'd once been so hung up about the title of Master Undefeated of the East………”

Wearing white robes, the young disciple kneels before Lone Fox Seeking Defeat.

Lone Fox Seeking Defeat (Present-Day): “However, one day……… when my disciple returned after being out traveling for a while………”

The young disciple presents a letter to Lone Fox Seeking Defeat.

Lone Fox Seeking Defeat: “This is……… a Gundam Fight summons?!”

Lone Fox Seeking Defeat becomes astonished.

Lone Fox Seeking Defeat: “You accepted this?! Of your own free will?!”

The young disciple silently nods.

Lone Fox Seeking Defeat (Present-Day): “I simply just couldn't believe my eyes……… Did this apprentice forget the tragedy that happened when he was a toddler? What happened to everyone in the village? To his own parents, probably his whole family? Despite that, he would participate in the Gundam Fight that was the root cause of everything?!”

Lone Fox Seeking Defeat angrily takes up her white fan and strikes the young disciple.

Lone Fox Seeking Defeat (Present-Day): “And yet, no matter how much I questioned him he never divulged the reason! At the very least, just this once, speak to me!! That's what I thought!”

Silently kneeling in kowtow, the young disciple gets beaten.

Young disciple: “..................”

Lone Fox Seeking Defeat: “..................”

Finally Lone Fox Seeking Defeat stills her hand, and she stares indignantly at her young disciple.

Lone Fox Seeking Defeat: “Well, fine! Do as you like!! However, as of this day you are excommunicated!! Get out, now!!”

Furious, Lone Fox Seeking Defeat disparages the young disciple.

Young disciple: “..................”

Kowtowing once more, the young disciple leaves.

Present Day

Domon: “The Gundam Fight??”

Lone Fox Seeking Defeat: “Yes……… Like that, I once again became Lone Fox, and I spent that year in bitterness.”

Lone Fox Seeking Defeat slumps her shoulders.

X X X

~Reminiscence~

Alone once more, Lone Fox Seeking Defeat trains day in and day out.

Lone Fox Seeking Defeat: “......... You fool……… you utter fool!!!”

With lifeless eyes Lone Fox Seeking Defeat swings her sword against the red sky.

X X X

Lone Fox Seeking Defeat: “And then, when half a year had passed……… I received some news.”

Domon: “Which was……… You don't mean??”

Lone Fox Seeking Defeat: “News of my disciple's defeat……… and death………”

Lone Fox Seeking Defeat tries to stay calm. However, she loses control of her rage.

Lone Fox Seeking Defeat: “And…… the name of his opponent in that fight was none other than Neo Hong Kong’s Gundam Fighter, Undefeated of the East!!”

Domon: “!?”

Domon is shocked.

Undefeated of the East: “.........”

The Undefeated of the East gives a faint, ironic smile.

To be continued……

(continue to next chapter)

[amber-jinx]

Me again!

Do you think that Rachel and Max had a spiritual connection with one another? They’re completely different as far as their personalities and outer appearances. Yet, they both have one thing in common:

Their love for Chloe.

Plus, the fact that Rachel appeared as Max’s spirit animal (the doe) somewhat shows me that they were connected to some degree. What do you think?

You always ask great questions! I must admit I'm not as well versed on Max's side of the story as Rachel's, so there definitely are people who can give a more comprehensive answer than me. But imma just try and write what comes to mind :)

For 2 people that have never met, their spiritual connection, chemistry, "fate entanglement" as I liked to call what they have are the strongest across the fandoms I've seen. When Max returned, we as players felt Rachel's presence all over Arcadia bay. In the original there was even a line to the effect of "I feel like everything in this town is connected to Rachel Amber somehow". Max was able to "see" Rachel through different people in Arcadia bay. Everyone had something to say about her, even a random trucker. It can be said that she really had an effect on the people of that town, if we put the fire aside. This town being Max's hometown adds another layer to it, it is so much different due to Rachel's existence.

left pic from a fan made Rachel DLC | Yes, their love for Chloe is the key link that transcends through time & space, allowing them to see each other in some way.

Like the town, Max is also very different from her past self. While she didn't have such a strong presence back when she was growing up in Arcadia, Max eventually became the decider of the town's (including most of its people) fate. Whether Rachel is the root cause to Max's powers is very much a mystery and up to interpretation, just like many things in life is strange.

If we acknowledge that Rachel is the cause of the fire, there could be another parallel: this girl who tried to leave this town nearly destroyed the town; meanwhile another girl who came back actually have the power to do that, or stop it from getting destroyed. Even though both never meant to. (Not expanding on Rachel being the storm here cuz it's really not definitive & personally I think if Rachel's got powers she'd just use them on those who did her wrong, not the entire town)

Personality-wise, especially on the outside, they are almost opposites. But somehow I get the feeling that they'd really understand each other, because on the inside, they may not be that different. I've seen a Tumblr post saying Rachel using her people skills to get on people's good side is mirrored by Max using her rewind powers to fix her responses. (When you've got such an ability, of course you use them! Which is different from being manipulative, might I add.)

Rachel with her sensitive, vulnerable side, which she guarded & masked with so much effort and painted with her smiles & godly social skills, is definitely able to understand & empathise with Max and not judge her. And Max being pretty perceptive herself, having quite an astute understanding of Rachel just from photos she found, is definitely able to see more than Rachel lets on. Both are powerful smartasses and fiercely protective of Chloe. (& both bi x)

Max sees, Rachel shows. The photographer & the muse. Built for an "electric combo", as Love is Strange says, even though they may not hit it off well at the start due to awkwardness or slight jealousy from both sides, eventually they're gonna realise that the other is beneficial for them. Max is able to ground Rachel and give her heartfelt & real advice that she needed; Rachel's able to help build Max's confidence, socialise better (back off V, she's with me), share insights about art & photography.

I'd even say Max & Rachel may complement each other more than Max and Chloe, OR Chloe and Rachel. (If there are more content on these 2, AmberPrice in my heart might be challenged. Yeah. It's scary.)

Some say they share the same spirit animal, which is really possible (bts putting that "doe see doe" photo on Rachel's bed frame), or it could mean that as Max's spirit animal, Max sees all spirits in a doe form. Another possibility is that Rachel have the doe as her spirit animal, and everyone who can see her spirit sees the doe. Nonetheless it's incredible that Max seems to be the only person to be able to see the doe, or that Rachel chose to present herslef to only Max. Definitely a connection there. 🦌

Looking at their personalities through enneagram (Rach 4, Max likely 9) we see that they can be similar but in different ways (9 & 4 can be mistyped):

"The difference is that Nines are detached both from the external world and from their emotions (not keeping in touch w Chloe in Seattle & delay on reaching out to her?), whereas Fours withdraw from whatever has caused them pain (delaying telling Chloe about her messy relationships cuz it causes her pain? + her immediate reaction to finding James making out with another woman). Nines see the world through rose-colored glasses, and their view of it is comforting, whereas Fours see the world from a garret window as outsiders and are not comforted: everyone else seems to be living a happier, more normal life."

Thanks for the question! I've no idea I was gonna write this long. You guys can see a few of my blogs or reblogs that I've mentioned these 2 via the tag "Rachel and Max" or "Amberfield" if interested :) Feel free to reblog/ add on!

[inquisimer]

HEY BB if you had to pick 5 fics you’ve written to make a “crash course” and sum up your writing personality, which would they be? I must know.

thank you for the uno reverse, MWAH

it's only fair that I have to turn this lens on myself but DANG was it hard to be like "what is my writing personality?" I think it really boiled down to: platonic relationships, grey wardens, a just a hint of Lore™️

Gen'adahl - Female Lavellan/Cullen Rutherford, Rated G, 1485 words

this was one of the first ever DA fics I wrote; I remember scrawling it out in a notebook at my last job where I wasn't allowed to keep my phone at my desk. And I was so proud when I finished it! For me, it represents the proof that I can finish pieces, no matter how long it takes

to be seen feeling - Male Mahariel/Morrigan, Rated T, 5039 words, a gift for @dreadfutures as part of the 2023 DAFF DIscord's OC Swap

writing this fic was not only an absolute joy, it was a pinnacle for me: if I could write a fic that captured the depths of Blue's OCs, I could probably do anything. And I did! And I can! It was exactly what I needed at the time and also a reminder that however blase my own knowledge or fandom experience feels to me, it will slot into what even the most knowledgeable fandom personalities know in surprising ways.

Shards of Glass - Female Brosca & Rica Brosca, Rated G, 3304 words

One of my first toe dips into the gray area of lore! It was so fun to imagine an alternative for Brosca's origins, to give her a deeper connection to the Stone, to play in the absolute barren wasteland wide open sandbox of Bioware's dwarven lore. Beyond that, this piece highlights my Sibling Bias™️ and how much i love exploring the DAO origins before the Blight, in general.

nothing hits the ground without an echo - Alistair & Bethany Hawke, Rated G, 1045 words

My first Dragon Age canon/canon fic! Absolutely wild to think that before I got into Dragon Age I was vehemently anti-oc in fanfic 😂 I'm so glad I outgrew that and can love and celebrate all of our OCs. At the same time, it was a joy to return to my canon x canon roots and play up the Grey Warden lore and happenings at Vigil's Keep that seemed to die in game after Awakening ;-;

I carried my own ashes to the mountain - Zevran Arainai & Female Brosca, Rated G, 1202 words

Nothing particularly poetic to say about this one, to be perfectly honest, I just like the Vibes™️. I think the humor and sarcasm suits my writing personality, and the lighthearted overtones that are haunted by unnamed pining and angst are Very Me :3 Also Nika not recognizing her face and yet reluctant to let go of it until someone gives her permission is something deeply personal to me, that I didn't even realize until after I'd written this. I look back on it and go, yep, yeah, I see you now, past mer😅