#I finally regained some motivation what higher power hates me this much

[ruby-red-inky-blue]

couldn’t work up the discipline to get to the library and start working on my extremely overdue paper that I promised I’d hand in next week

finally get my ass to the desk

laptop fully bluescreens and can’t be turned on again

run into a full blown AfD demonstration on my way to a public computer, complete with marching drums, a fully automatic sound system protesting *checks notes* gender-inclusive language, queer people, the tax for public media and the war in Ukraine, all served with the most smug faces you’ve EVER seen

oh yeah and yesterday when I finally sat down to work for an hour before bed, half the city lost power 🙃🙃

really running out of reasons not to walk to the middle of a public square and start screaming tbh

[number-1-kuaidul-fanboy]

The Yugioh Arcs Ranked

I’m going to rank all the main arcs of the original Yugioh anime with the exception of season zero and Capsule Monsters, because I haven’t seen those. This is just my own personal opinion, it’s not objective in any way. In fact, from looking at other people’s lists, I think I might piss a few people off with how I ranked these. Remember, this is just my opinion. Also, disclaimer, I did watch this show in dub. While from what I’ve seen of the sub is infinitely better, I did get into the show and I do still think it is a good show in dub. Still, some of the story details might be slightly different for that reason. (Going forward with the spin-offs, I am watching sub.)

7 Dungeon Dice Monsters

This arc served one purpose and one purpose alone: to introduce Duke Devlin/Ryuji Otogi and establish him as a friend of the main group before he comes back in Battle City to… do basically nothing? Personally, I barely saw the purpose in Tristan/Honda and Anzu/Tea so introducing yet another cheerleader for Yugi who doesn’t do much on his own confuses me. Ryuji admittedly has more character than Honda and Anzu and the stuff with the Dungeon Dice Monsters game itself is kind of cool but the other arcs had much more to them so this arc is at the bottom just by default.

6 Noah’s Saga (Or Virtual World)

Onto the first filler arc. There are three arcs of this show that don’t accomplish anything for the overall story and this is one of them. If you don’t know, these arcs aren’t even from the manga. In Japan, Yugioh was based on a then ongoing manga so the filler arcs were created to give the manga writer time to finish the manga so the anime could adapt it. So while I understand the reasoning behind this, I think placing Noah’s Saga in the middle of Battle City was a pretty bad idea in my opinion, as it's nothing but a distraction that destroys the flow of the story and goes on for way too long. It’s not bad though. The deck master gimmick is fun and adds an interesting twist to the duels. It was also interesting learning more about the Kaiba family and especially Seto’s backstory. Overall however, this arc drags in parts and while Noah is still a good villain objectively, he's a complete brat and I personally find that annoying. Still, it was nice seeing Mokuba turn Noah to the heroes’ side through sheer goodness alone.

5 Grand Tournament (Or KC Grand Prix)

Another filler arc. I’m putting this one over Noah’s arc because while that one had the better individual moments and did more for the characters, this arc didn’t overstay its welcome like that one did. It also genuinely shocked me by having Kaiba actually defeat the main villain rather than going the stereotypical way and having Yugi beat him. That’s worth a few points in my book. (It was also just a really good duel.) I also liked Joey’s/Jonouchi’s duel with Yugi’s grandfather, his former mentor. It was annoying how he didn’t recognize him but it was still a nice way to show how far Jonouchi has come since the start of the series. Overall, this arc is just fine. I’d probably skip it if I ever rewatched the series but it’s not without its merit.

4 Duelist Kingdom

Okay, this is the point where I’m probably gonna piss people off. Don’t get me wrong, I still like Duelist Kingdom. It’s a really good start to the show, gradually establishing the characters and the game of Duel Monsters in a really natural way. It also includes some of my favourite duels in the series: Kaiba and Yugi’s duel on the tower, and Kaiba and Yugi’s duels with Pegasus. Speaking of Pegasus, he’s a great villain. He is made out to be undefeatable and actually lives up to that reputation due to the powers of the Millenium Eye. Yugi and the Pharaoh have to repeatedly switch minds in order to beat him, which was really interesting to see. However… This is not the best arc of the show. A lot of the duels before the finals aren’t all that interesting and go on for way too long. They’re not bad duels per say, just uninteresting and padded. When I first started watching this show, I was mostly using it as background while I wrote. The filler duels just didn’t grab my attention and I have no interest in revisiting them. The parts that made me look up from my writing were anything with Kaiba (who I latched onto very early for personal, coping reasons), the times Bakura went into evil mode, and pretty much everything from Yugi and Kaiba’s duel on the tower and onward. I knew about Kaiba attempting suicide but what I didn’t know was that the Pharaoh nearly went through with killing him and had to be stopped by Yugi. That was the moment where I realized this show was more than just “a dumb kids’ show” and was willing to go dark places, despite how much the 4Kids dub wanted to hide that. It was the moment where I actually became interested in the show. So yes, this is a good arc, but later arcs in my opinion topped it.

3 Waking the Dragons

Yes, I put a filler arc over the classic season one. Honestly though, this season was so good I didn’t even know it was a filler arc until I did my research. Sure, it moved the focus away from the Millennium Items but the character development for Mai, Yugi, and the Pharaoh felt so genuine and was really interesting. This season basically forced me to see the differences between Yugi and the Pharaoh by separating them for quite a bit of the season, which was another thing that really surprised me. I was used to this show being darker at this point. However, I never expected them to actually kill the main character, even if it was obviously just temporary. That’s a pretty ballsy move. I grew to really like the Pharaoh and Yugi this season. And Mai’s fall to villainy and the exploration of her trauma from Battle City was very interesting and tragic. This show writes villains very well and this season is a great example of that. I really like stories where the villains’ motivation is to destroy the world due to their hatred of humanity/the world. Valon, Allister, and Raphael all have genuinely sad backstories that perfectly explain why they adopted this viewpoint. Dartz not so much. However, he is still a great villain. He has such a presence and the way he manipulated all these people and even twisted their minds with the Orichalcos was delightfully twisted. However, his ‘redemption’ at the end was really out of nowhere and unnecessary and Pegasus’s involvement in this season was… weird to say the least. Overall, however, I really like this arc. I understand the backlash, since this is a filler arc and a really long one at that, but I personally really enjoyed it.

2 Dawn of the Duel

Yeah, the final arc isn’t the best one. Time travel stories really don’t appeal to me personally. However, in situations where the thing in question was already bonkers as hell before introducing time travel I’m more willing to let it slide and get into the silliness of the time travel idea rather than picking it apart. A lot of its logic makes no sense if you think about it even a little but seeing the conclusion to all these long running arcs was really satisfying. Bakura is also a great villain. I was wondering what they were going to do with him all series so for him to finally have the spotlight as the main villain and to learn that he actually had a sympathetic backstory was really cool to see. This is the arc with the least actual dueling so I can see why people who watch this show for the duels would be disappointed. However, I watched the show for the lore and the characters, which were the focus of this arc and personally, I loved seeing the ancient real life version of Duel Monsters. The battles felt more intense due to them being real. Also, I will admit that the final scene where they all say goodbye to Atem got tears out of me, which I didn’t think this show would ever do.

1 Battle City (Both parts, splitting it was stupid)

Okay, this is the season that made me a fan. It’s the point where I started actively blogging about it and even analyzing it a bit. First of all, this arc had, in my opinion, the best villain in the series: Marik. His redemption arc was the only one in the show that was justified or made any goddamn sense for that matter (besides Kaiba but I don’t really count him as a villain). Marik’s backstory did a good job making him sympathetic without excusing his terrible actions. Even before his darker side took over, Marik was a really good villain, using his millennium item to mind control and kind of terrorize his minions all while hiding in the shadows so when the heroes actually see him, they don't even realize it's him. Granted the story didn't do much with that plot point but it was still cool. Also, I didn’t think this show would actually go as far as to have the villain mind control Yugi’s friends and even force Yugi to duel one of them to the death. That genuinely surprised me, as did the Yami Marik twist. This arc also added a lot to the lore, which was the aspect of Duelist Kingdom that I was most interested in and was barely touched on in that arc. In Battle City however, we got the Egpytian God Cards, two more Millenium Items, the history of the Tomb Keepers, all of which were really interesting. This arc also has a lot of the best duels in the series, which I can try and list:

-Kaiba vs Ishizu (I hate the way destiny is written in this series, but Kaiba changing his destiny was the most badass thing ever. Even I can’t deny that.)

-The best Yugi vs Kaiba battle (Tied with their Duelist Kingdom one honestly, those are both great but this one had two god cards clash. I can’t help but love it.)

-Jonouchi vs Marik (The sub gave me chills and even the dub made my heart skip a beat and think they were actually going to break anime rules and let Jonouchi win. Also, the dub gave us the amazing “according to my math, six is higher than two” line, which I unironically love.)

-Yugi vs Marik (I mean come on. It’s the final battle and seeing Marik regain control and overcome his dark side was great.)

Anyways, that was my personal ranking. I think I’m generally in agreement with the fandom consensus except I feel Duelist Kingdom is a little overrated and Waking the Dragons is underrated. I will do this with GX when I finish it though I admit I have been really on and off about watching that show due to real life reasons.

[ninja-go-to-therapy]

Locked Up and Left Behind

the red marks the prompts that have been filled, and the white marks the prompts that have been requested.

@badthingshappenbingo​

@razzle-zazzle

@ladylienda​

Prompt: Locked up and left behind

Fandom: Ninjago

Character: Cole

Trigger Warnings: mentioned character death

“What are you even fighting for? Your friends have abandoned you!”

He faltered,  gasping as he was flung back by the force of Yang’s blade.

“Your master has abandoned you. You are all alone!”

“No!” He lunged, katana held tight in his hand. Yang forced him back, his years of experience shining through. Yang knocked the katana right from his hand, and it slid off the roof pitifully.

“Can’t go on… alone…” he whispered as he fell against a wall, Yang towering over him.

“Yes, yield! Soon I will be gone, but you will remain forever departed, destined to haunt this temple forever, as the new master of the house!” Yang cackled, victorious.

Cole looked down, watching with horror as his form flickered. “I’m… fading away…”

“Just one more lonely ghost, not a friend in the world!”

He had to keep fighting. Even though his friends had forgotten him. Even though he was so, so outmatched. He had to keep trying.

He hit Yang hard, summoning every ounce of strength he had in him. He blocked with the yin blade, but his punch was so strong that it just… shattered. Suddenly, somehow, all of Yang’s students turned back to regular. His spell on them had been broken.

“The rift! If you hurry, you can be free of this place forever!” he yelled, pointing upwards and praying that the students wouldn’t be so out of it that they couldn’t use airjitzu.

Thankfully, they all almost instantly went up, airjitzuing through the rift and landing somewhere he couldn’t see. All that mattered was that they’d all made it through.

“My… my students! Leaving me! I’ve failed…” Yang groaned, hardly even bothering to get up from when Cole had punched him.

“Yeah, you did.” Cole said, standing on the perch above him and glaring at him with the most hatred he’d ever felt for anybody.

“I always fail.”

“Yeah, you — wait, what?”

Yang explained how he’d only ever wanted immortality because he didn’t want to be forgotten. Cole almost wanted to laugh. He told Yang that, now especially, he would definitely never be forgotten. He’d invented airjitzu, for FSM sake, that was a huge feat!

“Now come on, there’s still time to go through. Both of us.” Cole said, taking Yang’s hand and pulling them both into an airjitzu bubble, rising rapidly towards the rift. Human again, he was going to be human again. He’d never even considered that he was really, truly going to be able to feel again. And besides that, he’d managed to bring out the good in a man who’d been corrupted by power for years. 

“No, I’m afraid that’s impossible. The curse of the temple requires that at least one ghost remain behind as master of the house.” Yang said, and the resistance on the airjitzu bubble increased until it was almost unbearable.

“One of us has to stay behind?” Cole asked, then gasped as he felt Yang grabbing at him. “Hey! What are you doing?”

“See you on the other side, Cole.” Yang laughed, shoving him hard.

The world passed by in a blur. He screamed as he fell, trying to find the purchase to do something, anything!

At least he didn’t have the concentration to solidify himself. Falling until he was on the first floor of the temple, he finally hit the ground. He grunted, not finding the motivation within himself to get up. Yang had tricked him, he’d — he’d tricked him!

Something shifted. The temple itself groaned, and Cole couldn’t help but shiver. Out of nowhere, he felt a sort of tightness in his skin, like any moment it was going to break and he was going to burst out of it. He remembered feeling the same way back when he’d been a dancer and had to perform in front of people.

Yang had made it through.

He ran outside the temple, squeezing his eyes closed as a huge flash of light overpowered the night. When it finally faded, the rift was gone. 

He’d missed his chance.

A weight settled itself in his stomach, and every inch of his skin could have been on fire. He ran for the edge of the island, coming to a stop a few feet from the edge. He took a few steps closer so he could peer over it.

His whole body flew backwards just as his foot tried to edge over the very edge of the island. He groaned, sitting up and clutching his head. What the hell?

Carefully, he approached it again, holding out his hand. This time, he was thrown even further back, and a horrible jolt coursed through his veins like electricity.

He got up slower this time, trying to regain his composure. Realization dawned upon him.

Bound to this place, he was bound here, he couldn’t leave, he’d never be able to leave!

He slid right back to the ground, unable to keep himself up. This wasn’t happening, it couldn’t be happening, ghosts weren’t real, ghosts weren’t real, ghosts weren’t real.

Letting out a choked sob, Cole covered his face, crying into his hands. As always, there were no tears (and there never would be again).

He couldn’t believe he’d been foolish enough to hope. Worse, he couldn’t believe he’d been foolish enough to trust Yang. He was so stupid.

Being a ghost, he found that he was never really at a comfortable temperature. He was always just a little bit cold. Now, though, hitting him like cold metal chains wrapping around his entire being, he was practically freezing.

When he was human, he’d always hated crying. It made him uncomfortable, like he couldn’t control his emotions. Now especially, he wished more than anything he could cry again.

He missed the feeling of tears on his cheeks as he would just sob and sob until he fell asleep. He didn’t cry much since… his mom’s passing.

And that was another thing. He would never see her again. He was never going to get to where she was, because Yang had trapped him here in. Every other ghost had gotten away, too. All but him. He was all alone.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, bringing his knees to his chest. He was sorry for letting down his friends. He was sorry for leaving his dad alone. He was sorry he hadn’t been there when his mom had died. He was sorry that he was such a fucking idiot.

He sat there, a pathetic, lonely ghost in the dirt outside a temple that had been uninhabited for years, until the sun began to rise. The colors were muted, but he had a feeling that, had he been looking through human eyes, it would have been beautiful.

He let out a frustrated scream. It shouldn’t have been beautiful. How could something be so magnificent after something so terrible had occurred? The universe was mocking him. It thought it was funny, watching him be forgotten, watching him be forever bound here, watching him lose everything.

He dug his fingers into the grass, gripping at the dirt underneath. His hands hurt from the force of which he did so, but he didn’t relent.

He had never been angrier. He had been so willing to forgive Yang for everything, and he had just—he’d just lied to him like that, that bastard! He’d taken everything from him!

The ground shook, slow at first, but quickly gaining violence. What the hell was this, some kind of floating-island-earthquake?

The ground underneath him spiked up, lifting him higher as a cliff formed underneath him. He could practically hear the island whispering to him just as he realized that the earth was obeying him, taking out his rage.

“You’re the king,” it whispered, just barely grazing his mind, and yet he still heard it clear as day. “And this is your kingdom.” A tiny, worthless little island with nothing but a weathering temple to call home until time itself came to an end, and a master who’d been forgotten by the only people he could call friends. What a fucking kingdom to have.

And what a pathetic king he was.

[gasp-iwrotesomething]

So glad your requests are back open. I panicked when I saw they were closed!! I hope everything’s ok with you? I know things like this can get pretty stressful because once people see how good you are at writing the more requests you get haha I use to do a lot of writing myself but haven’t for so long now! It can be stressful sometimes. Anyhow can I please request A22 and A23 together for Helena and mc. Hope I haven’t accidentally picked ones that have already been done. Thanks sweetness

Thank you for your concern, anon, but I’m doing fine now! I just had an allergic reaction and lost motivation for a short period of time; but I’m back in black! When you mention that this can become extremely stressful because people love my writing, I’m glad that you can understand what I experienced. Starting this up was a big step for me because I’ve never released my writing publicly like this, so it was absolutely delightful to receive wads of requests every single day. The excitement and elation of it persuaded me to pump out as much as I could in one day which wasn’t the smartest move. As time went on, I realized that I couldn’t keep up--that I had limits and that those limits had been crossed. My inbox kept growing fatter and fatter and I was getting less and less motivated to write, which resulted in me having to close down my requests for the sake of catching up and finding my own rhythm. I’m glad that I did; now I take my time and write only when it’s possible for me to. Alongside my lack of motivation, my allergies started getting in the way of writing and the medication that I took to alleviate the symptoms made me really drowsy and sleepy. I just didn’t have a good reason to write in general. Then I caught up, posted completed works, and got back on my horse. I just have to remember that I need to take it easy and not stress so much about completing requests as soon as they’re sent it. Hearing this from someone who knows the feeling and knows how it can affect you is super reassuring. You seem like a very nice person, I’d love to read what you’ve written someday 😊

ANYHOW, sorry for the long-winded vent--I just needed to spill some stuff that’s been clogging up my head. Your request hasn’t been done yet, fortunately for you, so I’d be happy to write this for you, anon! Thanks for your request and I wholeheartedly hope you enjoy, sweetness!

A22: “Keep your eyes on me, okay? Everything’s fine now.”

A23: “I can’t live without you, you have to understand how important you are to me!”

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Helena was a pale flame in the battlefield, her power evident even from miles away. She was powerful but she was using her power the wrong way--the Witch Queen way, as MC dubbed it. Any soldier bearing the Witch Queen’s icy emblem of colors was splashed with her magic and sent sprawling across the woodland floor, their faces contorted with pain as they screamed in total agony. MC watched with horror as Helena whirled around and shot magic at almost any person who dared near her. Helena’s going to kill someone if I don’t do something about this! Despite the chaos unfurling around her, MC rushes towards her sorceress, simultaneously dodging the trivializing soldiers attempting to slice her down. “Helena!” Helena turns her back to MC just as she nears her, giving MC a prime opportunity to approach her without the risk of being taken down like the soldiers scattered around them. “Helena, stop!!” MC exclaims as another burst of magic collides with a soldier, renewing the air of more agonizing screams. Helena spins around, her eyes cold and amiss as they find MC’s... Then an expression of cool recognition fades into her features, delicately softening the furrow in her brow. Is she... calming down? Helena’s pale face is blotchy with fury and her chest is jumping with heavy breaths but the reign of merciless anger in her eyes dies down--a slow demise, falling dimmer and dimmer the longer MC stares desperately into her eyes. “That’s it, Helena,” MC coos as the hand bearing the nefarious magic slowly lowers, the blue effervescence faltering into her pale skin, “calm down. You need to calm down before you hurt anyone else.” Her hands frame Helena’s taunt shoulders softly as the sorceress regains her sense of reality, her expression twisting into something saddened and extremely disappointed.

Only then does MC realize that the entire world had seemed to fall away--the cognizant war cries now silent. She glances around only to see a bubble of cerulean surrounding them, encasing them safely like a shield. Wait... it is shield! It’s Helena’s. MC turns back to Helena to see that her blue eyes are glassy with unshed tears and her lips are drawn into a scowl dripping of rancor. “I lost all control, I almost killed after I said-after I promised that I’d never again-!” Her voice quavers and MC’s heart buckles in her chest. Soothingly, MC shushes Helena and pulls her into a tight hug, cradling her as close as she can manage. Her palms skate up and down the sorceress’ back slowly. “It’s okay, Helena. You didn’t mean it--I know that wasn’t you.” MC murmurs into Helena’s ear gently, her own ashen eyes brimming up with commiserating tears. She hated seeing Helena so upset--seeing how it took a toll on her to lose herself. Helena had tried so hard to change, to alter the monstrous persona the Witch Queen had forced her into and with this... It dilated the progress Helena had worked so hard to build. That fact alone was enough to crack MC’s heart in two. “It doesn’t matter if you believe that wasn’t me,” Helena argues grimly, her eyes woven with saddened luster, “that doesn’t stand for the people who do not know me as you do. To them, it’ll seem as though I’m a bloodlusted murderer even without the Witch Queen there to beset commands to me.” Her gaze wavers to the infuriated soldiers striking the shield, trying their hardest to break through and attack them. A look of disdain and gentle fear crosses her eyes.

MC takes hold of Helena’s jaw and gingerly tilts her head towards her. “Keep you eyes on me, okay? Everything’s fine now.” She assures tenderly as her arms slides around the sorceress’ waist, pulling her in closer to her body. “You’re fine now, Helena. You regained your senses and you stopped yourself from going any further. We’re together.” She adds the final sentence to appease the apprehension curling her lips. Even if Helena can’t find comfort in the fact that she was able to stop herself from certain murder, I want her to take solace in the fact that we’re together--that I’m still with her. Helena seems to mirror MC’s train of thought and she exhales shakily, nodding. “I suppose I cannot deny the blessing I’ve been gifted over and over,” a hand approaches MC’s cheek and presses against it affectionately, “your everlasting presence.” Her plum lips brush the curve of MC’s brow and the Chicagoan sways into her further, enjoying the warmth that Helena emanated. All around them soldiers slapped the bubble in hopes of bursting through but just like the thumping of Helena’s melted heart, it remains strong and impenetrable. Just me embracing her is strengthening her shield. MC remarks, her smile becoming wry with an unseen victory. “Same thing here too. I love you... so much, Helena. I can’t live without you, you have to understand how important you are to me!” Her voice pitches higher as the sentiment of her heart bleeds up her throat, choking her slightly with emotion. All of it was settling in: the battle raging on around them, the vulnerability of Helena, the goal she had almost failed within one moment of frenzied anger... I wish I could just ward the world away from her and keep her from harm--that’s all I want.

Helena clones her look but doesn’t have a welsh of tears climb out of her eyes; instead she wraps MC up tighter in her arms. She whispers ghostly into her hair, the raven strands consuming her gentle voice. “I understand completely, my love. And I wish I hadn’t caused this grievance for you--it saddens me to see you so hurt. Especially by my own doing.” Helena rubs soothing circles into the expanse of MC’s back, cradling her close as if her mere presence was to solve the soldiers who were ordered to kill them--to leave them in tatters for the Witch Queen’s pure entertainment.

Encased in their glistering bubble of sky-blue magic, Helena and MC bathe in each other’s presence as dozens of weapons slam into the shield--earnestly trying to end their moment of bonding.

But there was nothing that could shatter the moment between them except themselves--and they weren’t going to break it anytime soon.

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Thank you for your request! And a huge thank you for expressing your concern for me, anon, it makes me feel amazing!

If you want to request something, here’s the Prompt List, here are the Guidelines, here’s Who I Write For, and here is where you can Request me.

[kaijuuryoku]

Men of their word.

The signal of the last trial manifests itself in the most radiant beam of light ever seen, just above the centre of the judgement plaza, where those who once were exiles come back to their people once more. Amidst the shining curtain of the Shimmer-pool, a crackle, and then a booming wave of dust washes the light away. The cloud settles. An enormous shadow stands over it. White haired demon of a man, in a golden mantle draped over a blue-and-red shawl, powerful set of horns, and skin darkened by the years waiting in the deserts of the exile.

He walks a few steps, and then collapses on his knees.

An ash-colored sap comes running to his aid. Soon, they embrace.

“I told you that one time…” whispers Oralech… “I would see you here or there, once again.”

“I know,” sobs Volfred, “I knew you were a man of your word.”

***

The alcove whitened under the slowly falling snow. The dark evening accentuated by the cold, had a single dot of roaring and warm red. The hearth besides the Blackwagon, with wood piled up high, provides a bit of solace against the incoming storm. Right on the top of the stockpile, full of stones and lumber, rests a very satisfied Ti’zo, smiling and tired. At the first sign of his trembling sleep, Tariq walks towards the little imp, and leaves his hat over the quivering body of the true winner of the match, with enough care that he can breathe. When Tariq turns around, he finds himself observed by Volfred, curious and smiling, and by Oralech, stifling poorly a laugh

-         “I would say that you need your hat, Minstrel, since it’s confusing to ask where does the white of your head end and where does the snow start.” Volfred quips and Oralech loses control. His booming laughter is contagious enough for Tariq to trace a smile in his pale face.

-         “Ti’zo earned this small boon.” Tariq sighs. “We wouldn’t want to make our little star of the night sick due to this cold day. Even Erisa felt the brunt of the weather up here, as she is finally fast asleep in the Blackwagon. The night promises an even colder time.”

-         “You’re not wrong. Oralech, please fetch something to stoke the fires higher.”

Oralech, still smiling, ambles to the stockpile and brings out four of the biggest logs he can carry, throws them in the flame unceremoniously, and returns to the stone where he was sitting. A small pleasant silence fills the atmosphere, as the fire soon grows and rages. The storm placates, and the three men envelop themselves in their coats. Oralech and Volfred bundle together, the fire reflecting in their eyes.  Tariq brings out a lute and plays a small song, the one about Plurnes.

-         “You know… I think I’m going to miss Brighton dearly, all in all.” Oralech says with sadness.

-         “We all will.” Tariq replies “But he earned his reprieve.”

-         “And you will soon follow him.” Volfred adds. “Perhaps you will regain the chance to practice medicine, even.”

-         “That’s somewhat a relief, if I’m honest!” Oralech beams with the chance, and the flame shines in his eye. “I’m afraid I could lose my healing skill… I only practiced on the battlefield. It’s not the same to be able to attend wounded soldiers, with a permanent sense of urgency, than to bring health to a child. I would very much like that.”

Volfred pulls his head lower into his coat. A tinge of bitterness in his eyes betrays the signal of fear and loss he might experience, but beyond that, a feeling that he may not be able to conceal anymore.

-         “I would also like to return to the city, too… but I would be always afraid. Even if I were to be free, the literacy ban would just eventually return me to this place.”

-         “If I were there, I would protect you. That’s why I think I need to return before any of us returns. I must protect those that would be sent to the downside for reading.” Oralech insists with fervor, looking at the diminished sap with interest.

-         “Then you would be sent back too. You know how the ranks of the military are. You’ve told me before.”

Oralech is overcome by a cold anger. His memories come flashing by, uncalled. His eyes set on the flaring coals.

-         “Forget the high ranks. I believe it is unfair how our soldiers die for the pleasure of older men who don’t see blood in their lives. Young men run a thousand miles to make war, in the name of people who wouldn’t walk ten meters to sit and talk with their enemies. I wonder how many wars would have been prevented if the great generals had made the right call at the right time… They enforce the literacy ban to make themselves necessary. Many years I wondered if the highway remnants were right when they attacked us, but now I’ve roamed this land, this endless desert, and now I believe their generals may not be that different. Fools, all of them. I damn them for sending us here.”

He stops to catch his breath. Volfred moves with his hand a strand of the brown mop of hair away from the man’s eyes. Tariq’s song switches to a slightly livelier tune about the old king.

-         “I’m sorry that you feel that way. I understand your motivations, but a single nightingale won’t make our summer. We’ll need more of us up there”

-         “So you agree with me, Volfred?”

-         “Oralech, I told all about you my revolutionary plan. Of course, I agree with you. However, it requires both time, and faith. Faith in ourselves and faith in others to come.”

-         “What do you mean by that?”

-         “He states the obvious, Oralech.” Interrupts Tariq while still aptly playing. “The Nightwings are a barely working team as it stands right now. You are four. Were you to leave, that would make them three. Erisa, Volfred, and the Great Star, Ti’zo. What would happen were both you and Volfred disappear from the Downside?”

Volfred sits up straighter, and Oralech hunches back a bit.

-         “The Nightwings would disappear.”

-         “That’s very much right.” Tariq agrees with his small smile disappearing. “Volfred is Right. You need to set a legacy.”

-         “And that will not be done by us sitting here wondering how to fix our situation upside, and not thinking of our remaining days here.” Volfred pleads. “The stars dictate our path, but that means we must grow. That is our purpose, here. To bring everyone under our wing and protect them. I want us to be more than the team that oversees and judges of the future liberation. I want us to be also a symbol of hope.”

-         “But it will take time, and I might be discovered.” Oralech mumbles. “They might kill me. They might kill you. We need safety in numbers and in position.”

-         “I know, but that’s why we need the plan.” Volfred turns and grabs Oralech by his hand. “We’re little more than aggrandized sphinxes, asking for others to solve our riddle. We must be on the proposing side. We must come to the light, and face it undaunted. If we do things right, I’m sure we will find each other eventually. I will be there. I will rejoin you.”

-         “I’d hate to wait. Were you not to come, I’d seek you, and I’d find you, and I’d berate you for taking so much of my time.”

The two of them look at each other happily, and they recline one into the other. A thought crosses the mind of Oralech: a question he now gets the chance to answer.

-         “Tariq. You’ve seen most of our wars, have you not?”

-         “I have, though not gladly nor by choice. I do get to see their sons.”

-         “What is your take on them?”

The music stops. The lute master opens his coat and produces a green, ethereal crystal, and looks deep into it. His voice is soft, and yet, it reaches into them as if he were right beside them.

-         “I think nothing of wars, though I hate conflict. It’s easy to hate something that you can see, feel or touch, but wars, to someone forced to be in the sideline, are a shapeless thing. A mass of cut limbs, sad people, and strewn tears. In the beginning, all I could think of was how lucky I was to be paired with someone whom I love so profusely…” Tariq looks at the summit longingly. “But now, even love has become a medium line. It is what I breathe, what I live, and what I am. When you are eternally happy in your station, you see others justifying themselves in the horrors they perpetuate through the power of their love, and you ask yourself if the nature of love is one alone. Can we really be driven to war because we love too much? Is our love of our country dangerous? The territory, the people, the culture… is this a valid excuse to snuff one another? I soon saw that only the dumb believe in a destructive love. They are not ready for real love, and so, they hate, and they despair, and that is what they bring to others.”

He looks at the couple, and sees them in fear.

-         “That is why I enjoy love in purity and simplicity. Love in the form of a postcard, a good meal, the commonality of community. I enjoy being with you, and I will ride it out with you for a little while more, if you allow me. That is, until I must return to Celeste.”

-         “You’re always welcome.” Volfred responds.

-         “And even if we lose each other… We will meet whenever the stars align.” Oralech agrees.

***

“Have the stars aligned, my dear?” Oralech asks innocently.

“I will see them once your eyes stop shining bright.” Volfred Replies.

“Took me long enough to find you, but Tariq is not with me…”

“I know, and it saddens me, but now, it’s up to him to find us.”

Fin. **************************************************************************

I really hope they appreciate it. I’m not a very good writer, so I took extra effort and it took some time in the making, so, as luck would have it, here it goes. @Venhediss

@supergiantsecretsanta

[ofcrimsonstains]

                                    Nikolay Stepan Alexeev.

nikolay :: Victory of the People. + A man of little words. Why use words when your fists were perfectly able? And talk those fists of his did. Such capable hands are your tool to leading your people to victory. While they may be cracked and bruised, they are only stained crimson with the blood of any who dare to be your enemy. A grave mistake that is, being on the receiving end of those hands. They are hands sculpted, molded and shape, until they rivaled those of Achilles’. Through such devastating fist, victory will come for Hallows.

stepan :: Exalts. + You are man. Just a man. But, the way they used to speak your name with such reverence, three syllables burning through bodies and leaving them full, might have suggested otherwise. In the beginning you were their end. In the middle you were their fear. In the end you were their salvation. You have been the cause of many deaths, but your departure from the Bratva was the spark that ignited Russia. It was the flame that finally bite the chill from many frozen hearts and brought life; they finding a way out, too.

alexeev :: Defender. + You were as soft as you were strong. You were a gentle knight whose insides burn as hot as a dragon. For few, you would lay down your life. For many, you would break and tear and ruin until they were scattered bones and ash. While you’ve always been known as the predator, a man who murders with ease, beneath that cold exterior is the person who protects those he might say he loves.

♟ Faceclaims ♟

Stephen Amell.

♟ Power ♟

Pain Inducement ::

The user is able to cause varying levels of pain, including physical, mental, and emotional, to their targets using supernatural means. + The past was a springboard for your powers. How could it not be? You’re life has always been wrapped around one simple thing: pain. It was there the night your parents left. It was there when you had to be strong for your sister. It was there when you swore yourself to the Bratva It was there when you let your sister get murdered. It was there when you fled your motherland for Serpentia. It is there in your fights. It is there anytime someone gets there grimy hands on Catalina. It is there, and you never could have hoped to outrun it. Pain has seeped into your bones and made itself a home. Now it’s there at your beck and call. That which brought you unending agony now allows you to wield it. Once again, the prey has become the hunter. And the hunter has no mercy. There are no moral codes and tears shed for his victims. If you get in his way, you ought to expect pain.

Nikolay’s powers allow him to manipulate pain within any he sees fit to do so and he has no reservations. He doesn’t mind sundering people useless with the sheer, overwhelming pain that can and will cripple. It leaves many on the floor whimpering, shaking, begging for it to reach it’s end. But, it doesn’t. It only ceases when he says so. But, beware. He is not one to hand out white flags or bend to merciful pleas. Legend speaks of how there is one man who still suffers from Nikolay’s powers; an endless torment, hell brought to earth for the one who murdered his sister.

♟ Motivation / Inspiration ♟

Ella yelling at me was a true inspiration.

B I O G R A P H Y ::

In death, there is life. And what a life it was that the fates spun up for you. For your life was wrapped up in death.

Oh, how he could have grown. He could see it now. Pudgy cheeks and bright grins. A child so rich with life, and awfully adored by all who came into contact with him. There wouldn’t have been a room he couldn’t fill with his effervescent laughter and well mannered smiles. His parents might have doted upon such a darling boy. They might have loved that boy. The boy who was something beautiful, something fierce. They certainly would have stayed for that boy. Only because that boy could offer them something: a chance. A chance at wooing hearts for the sake of swindling them. It would have happened if they hadn’t stolen his innocence in the night and snuffed the very light from such blue, blue eyes. If they stayed, he knows he would have been turned into something beautiful. Beautiful, yet damned.

And yet, they fled in the night without a word and he only became one of those things — damned. They walked out, and no amount of pleading could have saved his world. For too soon his world was destroyed. His existence became wrapped up in his little sister then. The only bundle of joy in his life that he promised would see the light he couldn’t find anymore. To do this, he invited death to rescue him. He allowed madness to take control as he sold his soul to the one thing that could fight the chill from his bones. The Bratva. His saving grace. Both of theirs. It is there where the pudgy boy and darling girl grew under the tight fist of a Bratva captain. Skinny limbs became well toned. Doltish smiles now fierce. A melodic voice gained a bite. The price to pay; leave behind your heart and cast away. A heart only got you dead in the games he played. His house stood strong once his beating heart turned to stone.

Blood on his hands. The taste of sin on his lips. And Murder written into his gaze. He took an oath and deep inside he faded to black. He faded until he became the thing very thing his parents had long ago craved. The predator. A man coveted as much as he was feared. A man who raised hell during the day and delivered heaven beneath silken sheets. He could have anything he desired, and he did. He took, and he took, and he took until there was nothing left to give. All the while, his position in the ranks rose along with his murder count. Any hope of regaining innocence was lost the moment he first slammed his fists into feeble skin, tearing where he should have caressed. Or was it? There were some that didn’t think so. There were some who thought he had more to lose. It was only fair. He couldn’t earn a spot as captain when he had a heart. When there was one he’d bleed himself dry for.

The night the last ounce of light faded from his eyes is burned into his mind. Coming back likes flashes of another life. He was blindfolded and dragged for miles. The taste of dirt was in his mouth and stone teared at his skin. It’s the last night the Bratva ever made him bleed. It was the last time his sister ever drew a breath. It was the first night he made the men of the Bratva bleed. His brothers, the very men he swore himself to, tore the blindfold from his eyes and made him watch as they shot his sister point blank in the head. No amount of pleading, no amount of promises, and certainly no amount of struggle could’ve saved her that night. Despite his endless pleas, they shot the remaining weakness from his heart. And, for that, nothing on Earth could have saved any of his ‘brothers’. This final act was the very act that signed their death certificates. Every man in the field that night was murdered at the hands of Nikolay — each death worse than the last. And the last, well, that is a tale too gruesome to be told. They say the man who shot Nikolay’s sister still pays for his crimes today. His screams can still be heard throughout Russian soil.

Having to get away, somewhere where no one knows his name, he flees to Serpentia. There his new life begins. There he rises from his abyss to find a home. A home he chooses. A home he built for himself without having to break himself to do so. A home that leaves him irrevocably changed. Landing a job as a professional fighter at twenty eight, the ring is his new stomping grounds which allows him to punch and punch until his frustrations are released. It is there he finally sees the light, too. It’s the final round. One more strike at his opponent will win him the match. One more upper cut. One more fall. Then the belt would be his to claim. Yet, he missed it. He missed the fist that flies from his left side into his cheek and knocks him to the mat with a bright, intense light filling his vision. When he woke next, it’s hours later and with the discovery of his newly acquired powers. Powers that begin to enforce his dominance in his fights — inflicting such pain in his opponents that they can never hope to recover from it.

These powers are also what leads to him finding the heart he had long ago abandon. When things become dark, too dark to see, two people finally paint the darkness with color. First is she whose dark lipstick serves as a warning of danger to all; a tiny, fierce woman demanding him to be hired on as her bodyguard. With her, comes a man that turns his heart to gold. He finds his way back into the light when he meets these two, and it’s with these two he will always remain.

♟ Future ♟

plan one :: LET’S SEE WHO HATES BEST.

The Delaroix family and saints. They disgust him. They are poison and they have seeped into every crevice of his skin. Since gaining his powers, elevating himself to a higher state of being, there has been a hate inside of him boiling and swelling up. But, his arrival at Athos has led to the pot overflowing. Or, perhaps, he kicked it over himself and allowed its contents to spill all along their pristine marble floors. Now all he wants to do is light a match and set fire to the halls they reside in for his hate knows no bounds. His hate will be the fuel, the spark, the match, that rains hell fire upon the land. But, it will only come quietly in the night. It will come in the silence. It will come without warning, for those lifeless eyes have never revealed anything but cold malice to all who approach him. What they see will only be what any person sees. Something cold, something fierce, something dead. And those chilling blue eyes will be the last thing they see. He swears by it.

plan two :: HOLD ON TO THIS HEAVEN OF YOURS.

Catalina and Midus. Midus and Catalina. The two who saved his soul. To two that rose him from hell and brought him so painfully close to heaven’s grasp. He would be lost without them as they were the ones who compelled his heart to beat again. And how it beats for them. But, this is a dangerous love. This is a love that can so easily be taken from his grasps. He knows this, and the very thought brings a terror he has only ever known one other time in his life. It’s a terror that brings his own demise. For when the ice hears of it, it brings a familiar chill along bruised, scarred flesh and he can’t quite free himself from this patch of ice. So, he remains. Freezing. Lost. Holding himself back from getting too close sometimes out of fear of what that means; pain is all that has every come from his love. An unshakable pain. A pain he’ll be damned if he lets it leak onto either of them. So, while he so desperately wants to hold on, he doesn’t know if he can. He knows they are worth the reward. But, he is terrified of losing the last two things that give any hope to his fleeting humanity. To his heart that now beats with a ferocity for them.

plan three :: TOO EXHAUSTED TO EXPLAIN MY SOUL.

Broken. A restless ache. An endless pain gnawing on his soul. Like Nikolay, it has no mercy. It gets a thrill from tugging on his fears and pain for the simple reward of seeing him curl inward on himself. The past is a ravaging beast full up on his pain. It consumes and consumes while Nik carries on without delay. He can’t ignored this forever, though. One day this beast might eat him whole and there will no longer be hope. If only he’d talked about it. If only he’d find the person who shares his soul ( his past ) and can help him move on. While he knows Cat and Midus would offer up a thousand shoulders for him to let him burdens rest on, he can’t quite push himself to unload it on them. They don’t understand what it’s like to lose it all and have to become this thing he became when he joined the Bratva. This beast, this pain that resides within him, is something that can only be explained to a person who has lived the same life. Somebody whose pearly flesh is being chomped on by the same depraved beast.

♟ Characteristics ♟

Staunch, Disciplined, & Protective (+) :: If there is anything worth being grateful towards the Bratva for, it is the behavior they have instilled into him. They have made him staunch. Somebody so loyal that he would lay down his life for the few he has allowed in. Being anything but staunch in his loyalty to them doesn’t even cross his mind. With that, comes a discipline. An unceasing control over his actions and thoughts. Nikolay does and says what Nikolay wishes without any regrets as to what those might be. He is not prone to rash actions, but makes quick intelligent ones that get the job done. And, finally, he has become quite the protective person for three people in particular. The Bratva, albeit a cold mafia, gifts a man with the ability to kill without remorse, without mercy. It allows a man to see what is truly important in his life, and they were important. All three of them brought something to his life and any person who tries to take that away from him will end up regretting. No, they won’t regret it. There will be no time for regrets as he beats the insignificant life out of their eyes.

Broody, Cold-Hearted, & Combative (-) :: Devastating. A word often vocalized when somebody was to mention Nikolay. He was many things, but this all returns to one key thing. He was devastating. He was a cold-hearted man who lacked warmth when it comes to most things, but my god was he capable of filling any with a burn of lust if he so please. Because, while he may speak little, he preferring to remain closed off in nature, broody, the words descending from his beautifully curved mouth are spoken like poetry. They burn as wonderfully as a shot of whiskey. But, be careful of enjoying the thrill of that burn too much. He is a fickle man. One who can change on the drop of the dime. Nikolay iscombative. One who quickly turns pugnacious, eager to fight any who bring him even the slightest annoyance.

♟ Possible Relationships ♟

Catalina Aguilar :: Her Bodyguard.

Redemption. It could be found in her eyes, her touch, her lips. It was written all over her skin and he doesn’t hesitate to snatch it between cracked, calloused palms once she offers it like a ripe apple for the taking. For too long he craved the flames of hell to engulf him until death’s grasps finally choked him. But, then she appeared and there he stayed, suspended between heaven and hell, at her side. While bodyguard is a paltry way to describe them, it is what they say to any who question. For what they have is secret — is special. It is for them, and only them. He would lay down his life for her and she him, as they both would for Midus, too. For her he will do whatever, kill whomever, as a form of repayment for what she brings to his life. She is the reason behind their abrupt arrival to Athos, too. But, he cares little for having to do so since it means Catalina is safe. Free from any harm once more. He’d do it a hundred times over for her. There bond is sacred. Everlasting.

Freyja Volkova :: Comfort.

If he could’ve kept something for himself, it would’ve been her. The woman who burns like whiskey and tastes like every mistake he wants to make. She came into their life like a storm and such a devastation has never felt so heavenly. While she is persistent in her ensured distance, Nikolay keeps a hold on her. The light will always remain on for her — he hoping she will find the same home that he found with Catalina and Midus. For now, he is content to find comfort in the small things with Freyja. In their shared silence. In the shots of whiskey they throw back with ease. In their fierce need to keep Cat safe. In their shared pain neither can dare to mention, but both know lies just beneath the surface. Freyja brings a comfort to him and, one day, he hopes she’ll feel that with him, too. Some days he is almost convinced he can already seeing it bubbling deep down. Days like when she used her connections to free them from Serpentia and brought them to Athos.

Midus Goldberg  ( name ??? )  :: Compass.

Two points destined to touch. A touch that had to traverse many lands to happen. But, somehow they made the connection and it become a tie that cannot be broken. The arrival of Catalina in Nikolay’s life was soon followed Midus; a man with metaphors on his tongue and fortune at his fingertips. In the cold light of day one might label him a greedy son of a bitch, but Nikolay has always seen past that. Once the glitz and glam fade, there arises a smile that shines brighter than the sun. A smile that warms him, body and soul. This side of Midus, the true side only gifted to few, is something Nikolay would rather die than let go of. For once you discover it, it is like stumbling upon all the treasures in the world. All the gold in the world isn’t worth Midus, though. And while Midus may often stray, the image of him with someone else eating him up inside, Nikolay will always be there to lead him home. Nik would never forsake the one who turned his heart from stone to gold.

Delacroix Family :: Enemies.

Nikolay knew of them long before his arrival to Athos. Of the deaths they caused, and the schemes they play to prod and toy with the hearts of many in their kingdom. The family disgusts him with all their secrecy and their ill-fitted stage. The worst of it: humans pulling the strings of the saints. How ludicrous. These so called saints, these fighters, have succumbed to the mercy of those who are beneath them in power — human’s whose only power are the gold crowns on their heads. Midus can make a million of those for himself if he so wished to do so. The Delacroix’s, along with the saints, are beneath him in class and it would be a disservice not to have them all dethroned.

[feisty-mary]

A King and a Duchess: Thoughts on TRR Book 3, Chapter 2

I don’t usually write detailed reviews of TRR chapters aside from screenshots of my playthrough with some comments. But I’ve had tons of feelings since the lackluster pilot and now even chapter two is a disappointment, so I decided I might as well summarize what I think and get it off my chest once and for all.

Note that this post will be peppered with links to my other posts, since I usually write down my thoughts immediately after finishing a chapter so I don’t forget them. It won’t be necessary to open the links to follow what I say here (unless otherwise noted), but please feel free to visit them for screenshots and additional insights.

1.    We finally have the names of the likely enemies of the Crown!

It’s always frustrated me how Liam dances around the issue and says absolutely nothing to his future bride and Queen about the enemies of the monarchy. I understand he can’t (especially if you’re not romancing him), but that doesn’t make it less annoying. It’s a relief to finally get some clues about who they might actually be in this chapter.

According to Bastien, there are three suspects:

    a. Liberation Core. Anti-monarchists, have grown more outspoken in their criticisms against the Crown.

    b. Sons of Earth. Newer faction. Pro-trade, in favor of bigger concessions.

    c. Nevrakis Family. Olivia’s parents were part of an attempted coup.

I reckon Francesco (the Italian ambassador) is part of the Sons of Earth, since he’s been pushing for Cordonia to grant Italian artists more access to Cordonian market. I don’t think they necessarily want to overthrow the government; I imagine they’re mostly businessmen who want a big share of the market for their own benefit. If this is the case, I think we can conclude that they will be the last people who will want instability in Cordonia, since an uncertain environment is bad for business.

Liberation Core sounds the most obvious culprit at the moment, since the videos from the assassin explicitly say that they want to shift the power from the monarchs to the citizens. I wonder if this is a call to change the form of government from monarchy to democracy?

I’ve already said that I have some faith in Olivia’s friendship with Liam. However, it’s her Aunt Lucretia that I’m very wary of (the one who left her to fend for herself after her parents passed away). In this chapter Olivia seems fiercely determined to support Liam, but that’s not necessarily true for the rest of her family, is it? Where has Aunt Lucretia been all these years?

Coup d’état is defined as “a sudden and decisive action in politics, especially one resulting in a change of government illegally or by force” (Dictionary.com, 2018). It’s interesting that this was what Olivia’s parents were involved in, and this is also in part what the assassin in the video threatens to do if Liam doesn’t abdicate the throne (“the palace halls will flow with the blood of tyrants”).

I’m not drawing conclusions from the points above yet, though I admit I’m frustrated that Constantine never dealt with the potential threat in Olivia. If I remember right, Olivia’s parents died when she was around 6 or 7, so this coup d’état must have happened some twenty years ago by this time in canon. The fact that this problem still haunts Liam now that he’s already king is… well, very disappointing.

2.   The enemies of the Crown publicly threaten Liam’s life again in this chapter, but everyone pretends everything is okay. 

Everyone includes but is not limited to Ana and Donnie (the media), Bertrand (who calls the entire thing “a PR miracle” if you don’t botch it up), and even Liam himself, who doesn’t discuss the assassin’s video with MC, but invites her to soak in goddamn bathtub instead (if you’re romancing him). I personally bought Liam’s diamond scene, and except for the two lines where Liam asks MC how she feels after what happened, they don’t dwell much on the video message from the enemies and then continue acting as if it’s really not that important.

Excuse my French but, uhm, what the fuck?

3.   To Ana’s and Donnie’s credit, they don’t pull their punches when they ask Liam what he plans on doing following the demands of the enemies of the Crown. (You might want to open this link in another tab for context.)

“And what about their demands, King Liam? Given everything that’s happened over the past few days, are you thinking of stepping down?”

They go right for the jugular with this question. And Liam, oh my dear Liam disappoints spectacularly in this one. Here he “pauses to gather his thoughts”, and then it’s basically MC who takes over and sends a message on Liam’s behalf.

My question is: Why? Why does it have to be MC who has to do all the talking, when the question is very clearly addressed to Liam, the actual King of Cordonia? Granted, in my playthrough my MC is romancing Liam and is thus his future wife and future Queen of Cordonia. ‘Future’ being the operative term. Why does she get to speak on his behalf, and why are we given the impression that her words instead of the King’s are enough to assuage the fears of the media and the public? Who the hell even is she? If I were a citizen of Cordonia, why would I believe this person in the first place?

I’m incredibly upset by this sequence, because we’ve been told since Book 2 that Liam has to earn his reign in order to regain his kingdom. In this scene, though, after he supposedly pauses to gather his thoughts, his only words are:

“She’s right. I have no intention of giving in to their demands.”

It gets even worse when you remember how much they’ve been emphasizing that there needs to be a display of strength following the assassination attempt during the Homecoming Ball. And like we’ve been told since Book 1, appearances are everything. In this scene, Liam is supposed to show that he isn’t unruffled by the assassination attempt. He’s supposed to show his constituents that he’s a leader they can look to for guidance, a pillar they can lean on in times of chaos and confusion. It’s supposed to be an opportunity for him to start proving himself to the public.

But no. Instead the writers give the spotlight to MC, and it’s her who gives a strong message that appears enough to alleviate the worries of the public (based at least on the reaction of the media).

This just didn’t work for me. I understand that the writers must have wanted for players to have some input in the direction the dialogues are supposed to take, but to me this greatly undermined Liam as the King. This guy was brought up to be a prince, and then eventually the ruler of his own kingdom. His reign has just been threatened publicly, twice, in the span of barely a week. Is this really all he has to say about the matter? “She’s right. I have no intention of giving in to their demands”?

Wouldn’t it have worked better if Liam, as King of Cordonia, had taken the lead and sent a message to bring his people together, assure them that all is well? That’s literally his job. Ana’s and Donnie’s question isn’t something that should have caught him by surprise – not after that botched up assassination attempt. Couldn’t MC have just rallied behind him, said something in support of his statement, as a Duchess and/or future queen? 

This entire scene was just ridiculous. I know the entire premise of TRR banks on a lot of suspension of disbelief, but they really did Liam’s character dirty with this one. 

4.   Madeleine will be our new press secretary! 

I’m surprised but at the same time I’m not? Back in Book 2, even Justin himself remarked that Madeleine was really good at handling the press. Which was when I started lowkey shipping them. I still do; you can fight me. 

I know a lot of people dislike Madeleine, but I’ve grown to really like her. Like I’ve said here, I think she will be perfect for this role, considering her upbringing and her knowledge about Cordonia. I’m not sure how we will convince her to help us, though. I know she does want power, so maybe we’ll make some concessions? A higher position? I for one am not entirely opposed to the idea. You can hate her guts all you want, but even Liam and her mother Adelaide have both acknowledged that Madeleine will make a good queen.

I’m also thankful and happy that they decided to take this route with respect to her character development. I wholeheartedly acknowledge that Madeleine hasn’t been the most pleasant person since we first met her in Book 1. But in making her MC’s press secretary and thus an ally, the writers will have more room to explore who she is: what her motivations are, how she has dealt with Leo’s abdication and her being cast aside, her relationship with her mother and Regina, what she feels about Liam and his decision to choose MC in her place, etc. The writers will add more depth to her character instead of simply writing her off as another evil, power- hungry woman. I for one am keenly looking forward to what she’ll bring to the table once she becomes our ally.

=================================

I’ve never done this ‘thoughts on a TRR chapter’ thing before so my ideas are divided between several posts. I’m adding links to those related to this one. I have already mentioned some of them in the text above.

Enemies of the Crown | Truth behind the Death of Olivia’s Parents | Questions We Need to Ask Ourselves Post-TRR Book 3, Chapter 2 | King Liam, MC, and Answering the Press | Madeleine as MC’s Press Secretary

[jinxedncharmed]

So I haven't wanted to say this, either in writing or out loud, or really either acknowledge it directly, because, well, that tends to jinx things, when you point them out, don't you think?

   But, I've felt really good this week. Like, really good. Like, strong, powerful, in control, content, and happy.

It's...a little scary, because I've been sick for so long. My slide in depression was obvious, and I did everything to fight it, but I still slipped anyway. Now it's been more than two years, going on three, and I really feel like I might be getting better, but I'm also scared of sort of undoing my accomplishments by acknowledging that feeling. That sounds crazy but it really isn't. Hope is a bad thing, and if I acknowledge the hope that I'm almost well again, I could be setting myself up for a fall. And i really don't want that. But things have been pretty good lately.

Like, this week, I cooked, I exercised every day, I got a lot done at work, I wasn't too angry by Lapdog's promotion, I managed my sister's crisis, and I have even let some of MC go this week (he was so pissy today; excuse me for trying to be friendly with you). It's been a strong, healthy week for me.

Could I really say that I'm entering the final part of recovery? I've been healing all year, really ever since my back surgery. But things are still very up and down, so sometimes I'm doing well, but other times I get quite black. I feel like I can say pretty confidently that since my Iceland trip last month, I've felt a lot better. I feel like I got what I needed--perspective, distance, novelty--and that it has helped me move out of my depression. I really hope I'm in that final stage, you know?

It's just been disappointing in the past. I'll have a good run of a few days, get hopeful, and then something sends me spiraling. There aren't straight lines in recovery. So if falling in to the depression is a pretty steady downward descent, pulling yourself out of it is more highs and lows, peaks and dips, and sometimes just flat plains. I am definitely past my lowest point and have been climbing up hill, for sure. But maybe I'm nearing the top of this damn pit, you know?

I'm particularly hopeful because I've effortlessly stuck to my calories and exercise this week. And I am losing weight. Before Iceland, I can't remember how many weeks ago, my highest weight was about 255. This morning I was 234. I'm back to weighing every day, which is important. So I've already lost 20 pounds from my highest weight, which was sometime back in the summer. I can't tell, nor can anyone else, but that is definitely the kind of downward spiral I like to see. The weight fell off really fast when I lost it a few years ago; I expect it to do so ago, as long as I can maintain my discipline. And I can maintain that discipline, if I'm mentally healthy.

So, I'm cautiously optimistic, for sure. I want to be healthy again, mentally and physically. I don't blame myself for being sick. I tried to stop it but I couldn't, and that's that. As for regaining the weight, yes, it totally sucks, and I miss being 150 pounds. BUT I can forgive myself for it. I was ill, and I'm not responsible for my illness. I didn't regain all the weight and have to start back at my absolute highest, or even higher. And I still have all the knowledge I acquired from the first round--what exercise I like, how to lift weights safely, calorie counts of a ton of foods, and a bunch of recipes I enjoy cooking and eating.

   I'm hoping to continue to see improvement. Peru is a big motivator, as is getting a new job and getting over MC. I have a lot to look forward to, and I finally feel like I can mentally handle those things.

Speaking of MC, here I was all worried like a chump, and he was a real moody bitch today. He came in late and left early, yet rebuffed me when I proposed dicking around all day instead of doing work. (He didn't do much work, I can tell you that.) He greeted Lapdog like I figured, with a congrats and a handshake. I clarified that the wife isn't pregnant, and annoyed him with baby names. Maybe that's why he was short with me? He's worried about their fertility? Then as he was leaving, I asked what he had on tap for the weekend, and he was like, "Fun things," and left. Well fuck you too, mister. We all often talk about what we do for fun and give each other ideas of things to do and places to visit. I don't know why he has to be such a dick about it sometimes. Hot and cold, for sure. Sheesh. Also, apparently he hurt the CFO while dancing (I'm sure he was drunk) with her at the conference, so that ain't good.

Sheesh.

Sigh, no, I'm not being very charitable. Maybe he was hurt by Lapdog's promotion and that's why he was pissy. Or maybe he had a fight with the wife. And he wasn't horrible all day, we did have some fun. I shouldn't be so judgmental. But I hope he cheers up.

My weekend plans look good. Tomorrow I'm taking that trip to Philly, despite the lousy weather. I want to do the Mutter Museum and the Eastern State Penitentiary. Those things are right up my crooked alley, lol. Then Sunday I've got the usual chores--clean house, get and cook food, do the damn laundry. Ugh I hate laundry.

I finished Hank Green's "An Absolutely Remarkable Thing" last night, which, eh. I hate that that's my reaction. I thought its thematic arcs, the discussion of power and fame and influence and morality, was amazing. But the writing and the plot were stinkers. And I just really hated the protagonist. So a mixed bag. Really interesting look at instant fame and the responsibility of power, but bogged down with other problems. Still glad I read it, of course, how could I not read it. I'm reading "Evil and the Mask," a strange Japanese horror novel, now, and will probably find something else to read tonight too. Also listening to James Marsters read "The Dresden Files." *sexy growl* Mmm that voice, mm-hmmm.