#also that's my post from my brain from experiences

[bookshelfdreams]

In case you're wondering what the fuck is going on in Germany today:

After our government imploded last week, current vice chancellor Robert Habeck (Greens) was the first to announce that he is going to run for chancellor in the upcoming election. He did this with a picture in which he was seen wearing a bracelet that spelt out "Kanzler-Era". He then proceeded to properly announce his candidacy in a video, filmed on a set designed to look like my mum's kitchen in the 90s, where he said, and I quote,

"I am ready to offer my experience, my strength, and my responsibility. As chancellor, if you'll have me."

He also encouraged people to invite him into their homes so he could listen to their problems. His party is currently polling around 10-12% btw. Ambitious to the point of delusion, but mad respect. Just look at him.

The title translates to "My application as a candidate for the people in Germany". The Greens are always so goddamn earnest, you just gotta love them.

So anyway, this prompted a random dude from the Cologne CDU (that's the conservative party) named Gundolf (no, really) to post on twitter that, should the Greens win, we should "inofficially" rethink women's right to vote. He also called Habeck a "political marriage swindler".

German twitter, predictably, replied with a very well-deserved "The FUCK, bro".

Then, Gundolf goes on an absolutely unhinged rant about how, actually, historically women weren't discriminated against because they were "rightfully" considered more emotional and fragile, and also, women's suffrage was a result of higher literacy rates (???), and ALSO, have you, the reader, considered that Robert Habeck is the true misogynist here because he presents himself as emotionally available in a clear effort to manipulate the girlies??? With his good looks and political competency and raw sexual appeal. NOT GUNDOLF of course. HE is immune to all that. He's just concerned for women and their fragile little brains.

(Okay, I may have exaggerated that last part a little but that's the vibes. Gundolf, do you want to tell us something?)

Anyway, that's the party who will most likely head our government next year 🙃

[xalygatorx]

A Case of the Slumps | Alastor x Depressed!GN!Reader

Summary: It seems you've brought your brain chemistry down to Hell with you. Figures.

Warnings/Tags: Hurt/Comfort, depression and related symptoms/thoughts (obvi), cinnamon roll Charlie, Angel gives you a Xanax but you don't take it, platonic Alastor with a hint of possible unspoken romantic feelings, unexplained cause of death, present tense for some reason, reader is gender neutral

A/N: Crosspost of a recent oneshot from my AO3 because I figured if I'm in a slump, someone else probably is too. x

Sometimes it was a thought. Sometimes it was the time of year or the weather, when Hell's crimson sky was kept dark for long periods of time by an uptick of brimstone in the atmosphere or the lingering storm clouds after an acidic downpour. Sometimes it was a memory. A song. A smell.

Sometimes it was seemingly nothing at all.

Just like when you were alive, your now-dead brain hasn't lost its particular quality of liking to work against itself. It's impossible to say whether it's a continued chemical imbalance—that'd be likely right? If demons can do drugs, then clearly there's still something to brain chemistry in Hell—or if death took a snapshot of your self and your mind as they were in life.

It doesn't really matter what it is either because it still affects you just the same. And because you haven't had a depressive episode yet post-mortem, you haven't done any of the legwork you had to do in life on your own to figure out what's "wrong" with you, who might hear you and listen, and what medication(s) works.

So when it does hit, it hits like a tidal wave no one else can see. The wave itself, anyway—everyone can see you drowning.

That first slump isn't kind enough to hit in the morning when you can sleep in—or rather stare with dead eyes at the wall, bundled under your duvet and blankets as you put off the day passing by around you. No, that first slump hits in the middle of one of Charlie's exercises, one that you were enthusiastic about participating in just an hour ago. What happened?

You know. This feeling is an old friend you'd hoped to never meet again.

Charlie doesn't though, not right away. After you excuse yourself by means of referencing a stomachache you only kind of have—and only from the emptiness pooling in your gut and humming in your chest—she catches up to you in the hallway.

"Hey!" she chirps, leaning around to look at you when you stop but don't turn around. If anything, you curl further into yourself. She doesn't notice though—the only ones who would notice your change are the ones who know to look for it. Charlie, bless her heart, doesn't have that earthly world experience yet. "Do you want us to wait up for you or…?"

"Oh, uh, no," you stammer out, yearning for a big hoodie to comfortably drown in or a cup of tea, the idea of which sounds lovely but you don't even like tea. Everything that would normally feel like a treat sounds stressful or unappetizing, leaving you uncertain about what exactly you're meant to be doing. That's when the lethargy hits hardest. "I don't feel well, so I'm just gonna rest for a while."

Charlie's brow scrunches. You can tell she's about to argue that you'll never get into Heaven if you don't stick to the exercises and something akin to a sudden flash of anger roils in your chest, kicking the dead gray weight of apathy in the teeth. Because how dare she question your commitment, your hopes, your dreams, because you're walking away this one time?

But if this is like life, if this can happen again now, how many more times will it happen? Is it over for you?

Something clicks behind her eyes though as she watches your face. You don't know this, of course, but she's seen the same look on Vaggie's face before. Primarily right after they found each other—Vaggie also fell into a pit of her own pain and trauma, a victim of her new normal until the new normal became preferable.

And, on those days, Vaggie didn't always want to be with Charlie. At some point, Charlie had to learn that it often had nothing to do with her when that happened, too. It helped her understand her father better, too, in the end. She'd needed to reach out to him, but she'd had to let Vaggie come to her when she was ready. Both were valid approaches for different people.

She decides to trust that you'll make it clear to her what you need when you're ready.

"Okay," she says and her kind voice spears your anger with guilt, killing it instantly. You were always good at that, weren't you? Pushing away the people who care. "You have my number. You have everyone's number—well, everyone with a phone anyway. Just let us know if you need something. Anything. Okay?"

You clench your teeth to hold back the burn of tears working its way up your throat. "Okay. Thanks, Charlie," you say and it comes out as sincerely as you mean it, which is good. At least something's gone right today.

"Would you like a hug?" Charlie offers, starting to hold out her arms and then hesitating when she wonders if that could feel like she was pressuring you.

You think about it and decide it's worth a try. "Sure," you say and you step into her arms. She runs even hotter than the other sinners you've met, being Hellborn. It's like cozying up just a couple inches too close to a fireplace, but it doesn't burn. She just feels like the hearth in the place that's swiftly become your home.

She doesn't let go before you're ready, but the second she feels you shift to step back, she lets her arms drop. She gives you a little wave before scampering back down the hall to resume the exercise in the lobby, leaving you to resume your trek to the elevator.

Once you're in the elevator and you've tapped the button for your floor, you fall back against the wall of the lift and run your hands down your face, sighing into your palms.

What you wouldn't give for an on-paper, calculable test that you could fill out and hand to a doctor or psychologist or someone who could tell you with complete certainty what's wrong with your brain and how to fix or endure it. Not only so you could feel better, but so you wouldn't be such a burden to your new friends, your found family. What good were you like this?

(The reality is that the group downstairs is mildly concerned, but otherwise just fine. Charlie can manage the exercise through sheer optimism alone and she has enough bandwidth to do that and be available to you as your friend whenever you need something.

A couple of the others noticed your deflated exit, perhaps because they've once been through similar episodes, and are either just hoping you feel better or trying to come up with some nice gesture to make whenever they see you next. Everything you're worried about or sure you've messed up is a product of your dopamine-deficient brain.)

You pass Angel in the hall on your way to your room as he's heading out for work and he, of course, knows that look. He just hasn't seen it on you before. He offers you a many-armed hug and what he tells you is a Xanax, telling you to text him if you need anything or just want to talk and he'll check on you whenever he's freed from the studio next.

You appreciate his offers and agree to all of it, except the unwrapped, unlabeled pill, which you get rid of once you're in your room. You trust Angel, but you're too paranoid about making whatever you're feeling worse. You barely knew how to deal with it in life, what's it going to be like in Hell?

A stretched-out old hoodie is procured from your closet and you tug it on, smoothing your hair back down as you amble toward the bed. You burrow under the blankets and try to sleep, but of course it doesn't come. You're not tired, after all. You're not even sad. There's just nothing where there's meant to be something, anything in your chest.

Hours pass and, even though you're not helping yourself by lying curled on your side and staring at the wall, you're listless. You can't talk yourself into getting up or getting something to eat. It's even hard to convince yourself to look at your phone, maybe because you've heard it buzz a few times with texts likely asking how you're doing. You don't want to answer them until it's a good answer. Until you can say you're doing better. Anything else is a disappointment, surely, for all involved.

Someone's knuckles rapping against your door makes you jolt, but you sink back into that unsteady feeling of mentally treading water instead of answering. They'll go away if they think you're sleeping. It's probably Charlie anyway, maybe checking on you ahead of dinner. Was it really almost dinnertime?

That was enough to motivate you to extract one arm from beneath the duvet, extend your hand to your phone, and tap the screen to wake it up. It was after dinner. Time was a construct and someone was still at the door, knocking more sharply now.

You bundle your arm back under the bedding, keeping your back to the door. Charlie wasn't that hard of a knocker, so maybe she'd sent Vaggie up to check on you? Husk tended to pound on doors with the side of his fist (and not come near any potentially weepy situation with a ten-foot pole), so it probably wasn't him. It might be Angel, you supposed. Short studio session, if so. Perhaps Pen, but the source of the noise was too high up to be Niffty. She'd barge on in anyway…

"My dear, I can hear you moving around in there, you know," the Radio Demon's voice informs you through the door and your heart nearly stops a second time.

Not Alastor, you sigh inwardly, covering your face in your hands again and trying not to groan lest he hear that, too.

It wasn't that you disliked Alastor. In fact, that wasn't the case at all. You'd been a bit scared of him at first, sure, when you'd initially crossed the threshold of the Hazbin Hotel and who could blame you? He was an imposing figure, someone you'd heard of within days of falling into Hell despite his seven-year sabbatical from the Pentagram.

He was also a prominent public figure from his radio show. That was how you'd first tried to get to know him a little better—you'd started tuning into his broadcasts, getting better at predicting the shrill screams of the souls he tore apart just before they blared through your speakers. You still missed them on occasion and would violently jolt upward from wherever you were sitting or lying while listening, floundering for the volume dial and usually finding it well after you needed it.

Alastor had spotted you do exactly that once during a prerecorded broadcast and, after he'd run the gambit of jokes he could make at your expense, the barrier that had existed between you two since your arrival started to come down. And while the jarring screams hadn't stopped, your radio's volume would inexplicably drop on its own ahead of them from then on. You couldn't come up with any explanation for this that didn't include Alastor's influence, but what may have been a kindness on the Radio Demon's part was directly rivaled by his then-new penchant for bursting out of the speakers in a swirl of shadow to scare you, himself, and ask you for feedback on the day's stories.

Those interruptions had become short bouts of small talk in the hall, a couple of cooperative efforts to cook the crew a delicious dinner, him holding doors for you whenever you happened to be traversing the hotel in the same direction… Little things. Lots of little things that had ended up with you considering him a friend, but who knew how he felt. He probably just thought you were amusing. What made it even worse was that you were beginning to suspect the extra pitter-patter of your heart whenever he showed up was no longer adrenaline anticipating him scaring you, but butterflies.

You poor thing. You weren't sure you could've picked a more surefire way to make a fool of yourself.

"I'm not decent," you finally say in an attempt to deter him, wincing a little at the hoarse quality of your voice. You'd only cried a little during your time in your room that day, but you'd cried hard. Partially in an effort to exorcise some of the bad feelings you were harboring, but it hadn't helped much.

"Well! Under all those blankets, I wouldn't even know, now would I!"

You squeak as you startle so much from hearing his staticky voice right behind your head that you end up in a heap on the floor between the wall and your bed.

By the time you untangle yourself from the duvet and pop your head out of the heap, he's maneuvered himself to the edge of the mattress and is peering over it while lying on his barely existent stomach. A thin, but amused smile curls his lips as his legs idly kick behind him like he's a high school girl at a sleepover.

"Was that necessary?" you ask, any amount of riling up he'd done with his sudden entrance falling away from you as your slump saps it of its vigor in one go.

Alastor's brows rise into his fringe, clearly a little caught off-guard. You can understand why—you usually either laugh or, if he gets you badly enough, clutch your chest and scold him for nearly causing your second death via a heart attack.

He tilts his head at you as his eyes narrow and you can't tell if he's confused or zeroing in on his prey. Honestly, in your current condition, you can't get yourself to care. Maybe he'll put you out of your misery for your cheek.

"Mm, I deemed it so," Alastor says, his luminous red eyes blinking down at you as he leans forward ever-so slightly. He's clearly on edge and you digest this as a display of annoyance, but he's concerned (and doesn't like that he's concerned). He's never seen you like this. "Are you ill, cher? It's quite unlike you to miss dinner."

"In a matter of speaking," you allow as you stand up, brush yourself off, and gather up your duvet into a large wad in your arms. You maneuver it back onto the bed and into a sort of nest you can return to, careful not to jostle or accidentally touch Alastor as he remains partially prone across the foot of the bed and watches you work. Mindful of how little he likely knows about mental health, given his time period, you explain in a few words, "My brain is sick."

He blinks, not sure what to make of what you've said. "Your…brain?" he repeats uncertainly. "How so?" Alastor also deems himself "sick in the head," but he's fairly certain that his brand of insanity isn't what you're referring to in yourself.

You nestle into the duvet, missing how his eyes soften a touch at how small you look right now. You take a deep breath and let it huff out as you force yourself to look at him. If he just wants to torment you a bit, this will expedite him getting it out of his system so you can go back to your staring contest with the wall. If he's not just here to make fun of you…well, then that would be surprising.

"I have depression," you finally admit and you wonder when the last time was that you said those words out loud. Even in life, it was a rare moment when you'd be met with someone who was worth explaining yourself to—most people either didn't understand because they'd never been through it themselves or because they didn't want to understand. Over time, you'd just given up trying to be honest about your struggles because being demeaned or invalidated for them just made you feel worse.

"A what now?" Alastor asks, cocking one brow as he turns to lie on his side with his head propped against one hand. His fluffy ears twitch a little but stay upright, alert, and turned in your direction.

"It's a mood, uh…ailment," you explain, thinking he might not know what a "disorder" is either. You're not familiar enough with what terms people would've used to refer to mental health in his time, so you're overcareful with the words you choose. "My brain chemistry wasn't right in life—my body didn't produce enough of the chemicals that make us feel happy, so I'd get into really bad slumps. Exhausted, sad, sometimes just numb slumps. Apparently that came down here with me, too."

"So…you're in a 'slump'?" he repeats slowly, testing the word you'd used on his tongue.

In moments like this, you find him unbearably cute—from his twitchy ears made restless by the rate of his thoughts to his wide, considering eyes as he tries to absorb what you're telling him. He's a very good listener when he's not in the middle of a bit.

"Yes," you tell him and he relaxes slightly at the confirmation. "I feel dead inside, honestly. Which is funny to say now that I'm actually dead, but it's just… I just don't feel much of anything. Or I do and it just feels empty and hollow. That's kind of worse than feeling sad."

He hums and offers, "A smile is our greatest weapon, dear. We've discussed this."

"Not against this, it's not," you sigh, just waiting now for him to get frustrated or bored with you. "I'm not trying to be difficult, Al, I swear. It's just… I can't fake what I'm feeling. I've tried! I wish I could mask half as well as you can, but it's hard. It takes energy I just don't have in times like this."

Alastor evaluates you with a glance and asks, "Then what is your weapon of choice against these…slumps?"

You tug against the seam of the duvet wrapped around you, all nervous fidgeting. "I never really figured anything out," you admit and it feels like a failure. It feels like because you can't offer him a solution to your problem, your problem must not be a problem. You remember so many exasperated faces looking back at you at times you'd admit the very same. He just looks at you though, clearly thinking. "Sometimes just waiting for it to pass was the answer. I was on medication for it at one point, but it never helped very much. I know I need to eat, but I just feel a bit nauseous when I think about food."

"Then food should be on the docket, certainly, but perhaps not just yet," he muses, sitting up as he continues to regard you. "What else?"

You throw your hands up helplessly. "I'm not sure. I'm sorry," you say. "Maybe I need to go hug Charlie again or something, that didn't fix anything earlier, but it didn't hurt."

Alastor scoffs. "Is my comfort not up to your standards, dear?" he needles you, his tone confident even as his smile wavers slightly.

You blink and shake your head even as you scramble to try and understand what he's implying. "Of course not," you quickly say. "I just… You don't have to do that kind of stuff, you know? I know it's uncomfortable for you and I'd never want to make you uncomfortable."

He chuckles and a mischievous smirk overtakes his features as he leans in and pulls you toward him via the duvet, taking an indulgent look at the blush reddening your face before he tightens the blanket cocoon around you and adds his arms to the equation after. You get the hint not to take your arms out and touch him and you're not even sure you could if you wanted to. You're frozen in place, comically close to a deer in headlights, and you can feel the heat inflaming your cheeks.

It's nice to feel something for the moment.

"Um… Alastor?" you ask, stopped from looking up at him when his pointed chin settles against the crown of your head. "You… Why?"

"Why, what?" he asks, but it's just to put off answering and you have some inkling that this might be the case despite his casual tone.

"Why are you doing this?" you ask, embarrassed by how vulnerable you sound to yourself.

"I can't have you sat here in one of your 'slumps' by yourself, darling," he mused, one of his hands absently tracing over your back.

It takes a lot for you to not lean into the touch, but you're terrified of scaring him off. You're also terrified of overthinking this though, especially as he settles in around you, his larger body usually used to intimidate and tower over others making you feel oddly safe. Then again, even in his most antagonistic moments with you, have you ever felt in danger?

"Why not?" you ask softly.

"You ask a surprising number of questions over something so simple as this," Alastor notes and his words cause a puff of warm breath to stir your hair. You shiver a little and he chuckles.

"But it's not simple for you," you murmur, letting yourself relax a bit as he impatiently tugs you closer to fit you against his chest. He's certainly not as gentle as Charlie, but you imagine he's far less practiced in this sort of thing than she is. It hits you harder because you know he's trying. And perhaps because you—silly, silly you—have a tragic little crush on the Radio Demon. "And… Well, I appreciate it. That's all."

Alastor hums and admits, "It's simpler than expected. And not unwelcome." You feel his chin shift against your crown, like he might be looking down at you, as he asks, "Is it helpful? Or is dear Charlotte's attention still preferable?"

You have to bite your lips a little to keep from smirking—that sort of tone can only indicate that he's jealous. Once again, you find him unbearably cute and it'll likely one day lead to your second untimely demise once he realizes how you feel.

"Yes, it's helpful. And preferable," you confess and you can almost feel his chest puff with pride. "This is really nice. Thank you."

"You're most welcome, dear," he says, glancing down and watching you cave to fatigue and fall asleep as he feels your weight settle further into his chest.

Alastor chuckles and gives you time to fully settle into a more restful state before he shifts your body around and situates you on your bed. He'd first considered staying, but figures having something for you to eat at the ready when you wake is a better use of his time. At least that's the reason he gives himself to go.

The truth is he can't remember the last time he honest to goodness comforted someone. There's a tickle in the back of his brain, a voice asking if he's losing his edge. Asking if you'll see him now as less than he is, which (in his mind) is a sadistic, cannibalistic overlord and nothing more.

He can't deny though that he's savoring the lingering warmth from your body on his coat. And, as much as he doesn't understand these "slumps" or the depression you referenced, he didn't like seeing you look so sad.

And he supposes if he must occasionally soften his sharp edges a bit to help keep his favorite guest present and smiling, it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world.

[dpspcehntr]

Hello 🤗 I have a question that has crossed my mind from time to time and I would like your (and maybe your followers) opinion on this, if you don't mind.

Thinking realistically, rather than with a romantic notion, do you think the LaDs men have had much, if any, sexual experience that hasn't been with MC?

Would God of the Tides have concubines brought to him, or gone on dates as a land lubber? Or do you think his bond with MC would prevent him from 'engaging' with anyone else?

Did Xavier date anyone before MC joined the guardians (I don't know the name I forget lol)?

I don't know anything about Sylus

Would Zayne have had a prom date or a girlfriend before he met with the current timeline MC? I know he says we are his only experience, but does that include just kissing someone?

I’M SO GLAD YOU ASKED!! One, I have also been rotating this around in my brain for quite some time and how I feel very lightly colors how I write for them! I haven't read much (if any at all) of the myths so I will just be looking at the present. I love thinking about this cause tbh sometimes the characterizations in game are not as full as I would like. I won’t keep this long but if you want more detail I’m happy to add to this post! Anyway! Here are my thoughts!

Rafayel is literally the reason I had this thought in the first place. I thought it was so silly to think that he as a rich artsy boy had never ONCE hooked up with someone. He absolutely is a FUCKBOY! I will hear nothing else about it. I can't image he's not when so much of his overall characterization just oozes that kind of energy for me. My exception to this is that I don't think he enjoyed himself very much. Used sex kind of like a numbing thing cause he felt the void of your absence hard. He's not like a community dick kind of fuckboy but he has definitely been passed around a few times, if not as a professional then in art school.

Xavier is another one who I feel has some experience before (re)meeting MC. His experience is alot more clumsy and unsure compared to Rafayel. More of a situation like 'I want to be ready when I find her so I'm going to try it with someone else to be good at it. There may only be one person he's had sex with before MC and it was so bad she just had to leave. When that failed he just turned to erotica and p*rn to fill in the gaps. Eventually getting used to using his own imagination and getting off when needed. So when the time comes he's very prepared and VERY horny.

Sylus is a bit of a hard one because yes absolutely he is having sex with people before meeting MC. His overall vibe very much eludes to the fact that he has lived a life and I'm sure that is included. I don't think he's slinging it out to anyone who asks but he has been in some kind of relationship before. If anything we can say he is very comfortable having sex and has had sex before meeting MC. I have some more thoughts on this but I will keep it there for now!

Zayne from what I know has said that he isn't experienced and we are his first and I believe that. He very much gives full focus on the task at hand kind of man. Definitely not in high school but in med school I image him having a non serious fling with someone just to say he tried. They broke up soon after and he just never tried again until he and MC reconnected. That being said, he is a bit of a perv and has ALOT of pent up energy so once they start they literally don't stop. Like a weekend stuck in an endless loop of sleep, eat, fuck until he's at work desperate for you once again. The problem for him is learning how to control himself now that has MC.

My ask box is open for further conversations on this cause I genuinely love talking about this! Lets keep the conversation going!

[vigilskeep]

does sol have options on spite? does spite on sol? endlessly fascinated with them, it’s so sweet how you went from puzzling over the possibility of a crow warrior to having dreams about sol 😭

sol has a mild case of sympathy for spite’s side of the story from the start; “yeah, trapped in there with some uppity master crow going on and on about contracts who never lets you get a word in edgewise no matter how often you’ve backed him up, i know that experience”. but that would never prevent them from staying alert, registering spite as an ever-present threat against lucanis, which rises in importance against spite’s usefulness as lucanis starts to matter more to them. they always had calculating how to get rid of it in the back of their mind, for sure. this state of affairs goes on until the bit where spite drags you into the fade to take lucanis to therapy. and it’s like, OH, okay, you have completely reasonable goals aligned with mine and for a demon you’re kind of adorable. that’s when sol starts actually getting fond. they love when spite makes Interesting and Creative fade bridges (they have artistic merit, lucanis), they always get a laugh out of it talking to the others, and it’s never let them down in a fight. as long as it’s good to lucanis and lucanis is okay with it, it’s part of what they love and they’re here for it all the way

spite likes sol. which makes sense, because it is a mostly straightforward, uncomplicated creature that lives in lucanis’ brain, where sol is the number one source of light and freedom and all good things. but sol also meets spite’s own standards, i think? sol is vicious and sharp, bringer of fire! clever and fun, trusted and safe! breaker of chains, opener of doors! ours! these are all very good things! spite is well pleased by their proximity. which is precisely what lucanis finds most unsettling, because he automatically doesn’t trust anything his demon wants, so overall this unfortunately does not quickly help spite’s case for More Sol and I Get To Talk To Them

in summary

spite: if we run and leap at sol they will most certainly catch us in their arms

lucanis: NO! THEY’RE HOLDING COFFEE!

[sol drops the coffee to catch them, Lucanis Disapproves]

i don’t know how... involved spite is in lucanis and sol’s relationship? (DISCLAIMER: the rest of this post ventures into my general headcanons about what spite is and how it works, and is not intended to discount anyone else’s interpretations of spite or the romance.) spite does not strike me as a spirit that had previously had very much contact with people. if any. it’s incredibly single-minded, with broken, childish speech patterns and a very poor understanding of how the material world works. which is to say that i think before we ask ourselves if spite is truly part of this romantic relationship, we should set our sights lower. like maybe, “does spite know what a romantic relationship is?” i’m still cracking up at that one shot where you’re on the late game coffee date and lucanis comes over to stand next to you, and the camera zooms out to show spite just... still there. sitting there watching. it’s learning, okay. it’s very curious and mildly confused but not displeased by this turn of events. more sol is good! there seem to be a lot of strange mortal customs involved with this direction, though

to me, spite encircling them with the wings in the final romance scene seemed like it is definitely present and made a choice to do that—lucanis says in other dialogue that the wings are spite and he doesn’t control them—but i don’t necessarily read that spite is taking part, so to speak. spite is still working on What Are Physical Bodies And How Do They Work And Why Do They Look Like That, and i just fail to believe that it has sex figured out or even sexual attraction online. (right now, at least! never say never?) my honest interpretation of spite’s choice to pop out the wings is threefold:

a) taash said it would be good and that sol would like it. taash is, in spite’s opinion, usually very sensible, so their advice is worth trying

b) spite apparently can make an attempt to go elsewhere when lucanis is having sex, because i’ve heard about dialogue from a neve/lucanis setup where spite says that when the hat comes off it’s been told to leave and go “play with wisps”, which is, btw, so fucking funny. however, spite in this scene has spent weeks in the Very Wrong Bad Not Right absence of rook, and now rook is Here! the wings are spite just present enough to still soak that in. that’s all it needs from this moment, which shows in how contented it is in this scene to be, as far as i can tell, otherwise really remarkably quiet and non-intrusive and let lucanis and rook have the moment they need

c) lucanis was very clear that this is Private, and spite is attempting to ensure that they have privacy by covering them safely with the wings, because it is Suspicious About The Fish

[imjustaf444keriguess]

"now zip it you're annoying" you can block me you know!

1 - what does the power of the plurals article have to do with any of this. i know the definition of endogenic system. the quote you mentioned even demonstrates how associations to endogenic systems can harm even non-endogenic plurals/systems.

2 - where did the other quotes you screenshotted and shared come from? one is just saying that there's no backing (which doesn't mean an impossibility, it just means that they haven't seen the studies currently going on towards endogenic plurality, which i have linked above), and one's just... related to endogenic alters/headmates? which are real? i believe in mixed origin systems and brainmade alters?

"From my perspective, I maintain the view that endogenic systems lack validity." have you tried reading any of the links in the two masterposts i sent? have you found any research that shows the impossiblity of non-trauma created systems?

you also say:

In contrast, endogenic systems assert an absence of trauma, thereby challenging the conventional understanding of how conditions like Other Specified Dissociative Disorder (OSDD) or Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID) may manifest.

which is like saying "some people claim to have headaches without a sickness, which challenges the conventional understanding of how headaches formed through cold and flu symptoms may manifest" like, if you can prove to me that the brain literally cannot create other sentient 'selves" without trauma, try to show me that it's impossible, but with scientists currently studying the experience and saying terms like "tulpa system", there's backing to the idea that these peoples internal experiences are legitimate and they're not all lying for clout.

wait, was the whole bit there, like... a quote from... someone else's post? at the end you gave a link following a lingering quote mark, which means you quoted 4 paragraphs of... someone else's post? or is that your own opinion? because none of that text is seen in the last link that you posted, as far as i can tell.

and what the fuck does tiktok have to do with any of this? plurality and systemhood relating to endogenic identities and even tulpanancy have existed long before tiktok, and tiktok having people on it and maybe faking on there doesn't make the whole idea of the experience wrong and fake?

like if i was faking having DID, that doesn't sudenly make DID fake. if someone is lying about being a system, that doesn't mke endogenic experiences less real for the people who are experiencing them.

we CAN get into a debate on whether or not they're really plural, but none of the things you linked... even touch on that, as far as i can tell? one is BY someone who's pro-endo from a site that's pro-endo, and one's just interviews? and you have one screenshotted quote that's just... something about the TOSD somehow invalidating endogenic experiences? and claims endogenic systems 'lack scientific validation', which- again, is untrue, i've shown you the research that makes me believe, and then it brings up complex dissociative disorders, which are the disordered version of plurality. of course the dissociation disorder is validated by the TOSD, that influences the trauma and disordered part of the disorder.

and then the whole copy pasted text from somewhere, again unsourced. just a random quote? from some other guy? was that from tumblr, or another site? definitely not a professionals study or anyything, i don't think most scientists can get away with putting "lol" and firm assertive statements like "And that is how it will stay because that it the only way the disorder can develop!" without evidence to show that the only way to be plural is through the disorder.

and also, when was the article (that's seen in the screenshot) written? is it talking about DID/OSDD mainly, or is it actually debating on endogenic systems and their validity? does it have sources that prove its points, or is it a carrd

if you DO reply with stuff i probably wont reply any further, this is as disorienting and senseless as asking an AI for information, and at least an AI would try to source where it gets its info, even if it has broken links sometimes.

(starting off, we are a traumagenic did system. we have did.)

endogenic systems are absolutely punk and they belong in punk spaces (pluralpunk, systempunk, whatever) and here’s why:

- punk is about embracing who you are and living your life authentically and unapologetically

- punk is about not letting other people dictate how you live your life and who you can be

- punk is about radical acceptance, equality, and solidarity

- punk is about rejecting authority and the establishment (and yes, this includes the medical establishment which is often ableist and causes disabled people real, long lasting harm)

there is no room for anti endos in punk. being anti endo literally is being anti punk. learn more about what punk means, and do better.

[zhuoyichenpretty]

Ep 26 Commentary

Alrightyy I've mustered up what's left of my brain for a belated ep 26 commentary post. IRL responsibilities are getting a bit away from me so I wasn't able to spend as much time on this as usual; apologies if the haste shows through! Consider this more reaction than meta.

As always, spoilers under the cut:

A carry-over comment, but I really do appreciate the Li Lun/ZYC scene in ep 25 for how it solidified ZYC's resolve and reminded him of where his heart is, what he believes in, what he chooses to defend. Such a load-bearing and pivotal conversation for both characters in opposite directions of development. It also makes ZYC's return to the Bureau triumphant in a way, despite all the preceding trauma, despair, and hopelessness. WX embraces him in relief that he's safe and in comfort for what they've all just been through, and for us, it's doubly meaningful as a sort of homecoming after a confrontation that only we have witnessed. It's also interesting, the cutaway as they hug, the things we have been made privy to and the things that are kept private from us.

Ouuughh the lines voiced over as ZYZ and ZYC meet eyes for the first time since all that transpired in Tianxiang Pavilion. It gives such a deep sense of wordless understanding and intimacy. I'm reminded of when the show did that for Ranyi and Miss Qi's final lines.

As I mentioned previously, a lot of subtext became text in this episode, which was quite exciting (and also extremely adorable the way ZYC was like "I think I've said too much" /// afterwards). I didn't expect ZYC to convey his understanding of ZYZ to him so soon, but that really goes back to something I love about ZYC: that he doesn't really waste time expressing something once he's come to an emotional conclusion. Maybe there's something to be said there about how he knows, after the loss of his family, how important it is to say the words when you have them to the people in front of you while they're still here.

If ZYC's words and his tears offered to a catatonic ZYZ in ep 23 were an expression of star-crossed and conflicted love, this parallel scene is just an utterly unrestrained confession, the stars be damned.

Also, tbh I never found ZYC's reactions to ZYZ to be unfounded or unreasonable, even when misguided in the beginning (and necessarily so, given the narrative and premise) or at times harsh (which I also found much-needed for ZYZ to hear, and delivered with obvious sympathetic anguish). He was clearly reflecting and actively revising his own preconceived notions this entire time, feeling for ZYZ the whole way through, and I do think he's demonstrated realistically and impressively the full extent of empathy perhaps as far as it can possibly stretch without personally experiencing ZYZ's life himself and while still living and feeling for his own. But to see ZYC so ready to address his previous flaws, to admit them and correct them, to go beyond them and to reach out so plainly for ZYZ in front of him now that he has that personal experience—the relationship between them has transcended the initial set-up of two opposing characters meeting in the middle. The show has gone that extra step and made their perspectives one. And given that I didn't personally find that step to be narratively necessary, so to say, (as in, even without it there's not truly a narrative obstacle because I already believed ZYC loves ZYZ despite everything and we've already seen the lengths he'll go to not to kill ZYZ), it feels like a choice in every definition of the word. Like a development motivated by love all the way down.

WX gets the least traumatic cloak-draping scenes out of the three of them, thank god.

Oh shit I forgot about fixing the Wilderness I'm so glad they didn't lmao.

Ahhh the crossroads moment at a literal (kind of) crossroads right before entering the Bingyi Clan's forbidden area. ZYC suddenly wanting to go alone or back out, stuck weighing the danger to everyone's lives, who they can and can't save depending on his choices. It makes me think of what happens when we let intense love in and it comes with intense fear, makes us freeze up. Suddenly, the stakes are in sharp relief, and the courage to move forward isn't so simple anymore.

"修好了，你也別死" ("Once it's fixed, don't die either.") Head in hands. ZYC's voice here, his expression, that desperation. Yeah I think this episode was so draining because of how all pretense is being stripped away and all that's left is ZYC's profound love for everyone, so raw and vulnerable that it hurts to watch, especially knowing he won't have it easy trying to keep everyone alive.

Kind of love how freely ZYC cries and says the vulnerable things in front of all his loved ones. Like. That's truly his family, his people, his heart.

ZYZ please. Imagine ZYC's grief without you. Please just stay.

Yay 12 seconds of angst-free bickering right before (as someone else called it) the trolley problem

Ok so, I'm not sure how common this interpretation/reading of the following scene is, but it's been rattling around in my head for a while now so I'm just gonna include it here. If y'all disagree, pls disregard! Basically, when ZYC first turned to PSJ and thanked her, I was terrified for a moment that he would ask her to stay. Because on one hand, ZYC would never, but on the other hand, imo there's a lot of (I think deliberate) ambiguity baked into the scene. In ZYC turning to PSJ right after we're told "one of your friends or all three of them," in him starting the series of goodbyes with the character he has the least onscreen development with, in the finality of what he says to her but also the lack of clarity on just who this is final for, in PSJ's expression and WX's reaction, in the dramatic turning away at the end. Like, until he turns away from her, I think there's room for interpretation on what he's decided to do, and as someone who's grown quite surprisingly invested in the ZYC-PSJ dynamic, I'm kind of morbidly interested in this reading of events.

What might be going through PSJ's head at ZYC's words, if at this moment she hasn't yet realized his self-sacrificial intent? Does she think she's going to be asked to stay? Does she assess the situation, conclude that she's the person ZYC is least close to and perhaps the one least able to contribute in whatever comes next as the only human here, and begin resigning herself to this outcome? Are the tears in her eyes the sole indication of her conflicted unwillingness to die here that makes it through because as he's talking, she's evaluated that this is the best possible scenario for them all (esp for WX) and will commit herself to his decision even if it also breaks her heart to be chosen this way?

I may be taking this and running a bit far with it, but I just think the ambiguity of this one brief moment can create such angsty implications between the lines (as if we needed more angst...) and despite their scarce onscreen interactions, I'm kind of a sucker for the "extremely noble (to the point of tragedy) knight choosing to acknowledge and follow and dedicate their silent loyalty to a leader they deeply respect" dynamic, even if it is understated with all the other relationships going on in this show. Given how reticent PSJ is, it makes a meaningful impact on me every time she displays concern for ZYC, so you know it crushed me to watch her desperately and irrationally (the most pragmatic of them all!) try to shoot at him with her arrows while knowing there's no way it'd work. The way she was the first to act, the sound of nothing but the ice and the stretch of the bowstring. I really do love their platonic bond much more than I expected to.

Oof. The freezing. I don't want to sound like a broken record but I loved TJR's acting here because I think it's so easy for this scene to look awkward as he's stuck facing forward and pretending to freeze haha. His microexpressions as he realizes ZYZ is behind him, as he tries to chase him away with his words, as he's probably burning from the inside out with all that ice. That last tear as his gaze turns hollow. A+

I also love ZYZ's lines about not believing he can't overcome ZYC's powers like yeah this is a newborn demon with no inner core and ice powers that he taught him lmao

Okay, that's a wrap for my thoughts on this ep! I was originally going to include ep 27 reactions here too, but seeing as this is getting a little long, maybe I'll roll 27 into my thoughts on ep 28? We shall see!

[cowardlycowboys]

every note on that match made in heaven post is a shot to my cranium

[sideblogdotjpeg]

ive been thinking about the red string superstition recently and also sol bufo always and it makes me sick how uncannily caldwell tanner has made sol to perfectly target me personally

(+ cropped versions !)

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

ayyyy ok here's some extra Laughingstock Sillies from the past week or so. it aint much but its honest work

(human!Barnaby's design is partycoffin's - from their pokemon au! he's beautiful....)

[cut-aare]

Scribble dump ft. MK and Red Son!!! (More of a blending mode and brushes experiment)

[doodlejoltik]

my favourite writing device is having an un-Rei-liable narrator

[skunkes]

gonna keep making this post forever i guess because it just keeps getting wilder the more time passes and my brain forgets the immediate sensations/experience but i can't believe i got SURGERY. CRAZY. Not even this specific surgery but the fact that I got any surgery at all!!! SO WILD

[biblically-accurate-dca]

KILL!!!!!!!!!

[whiteredrose13]

AAAAAA, OKAY-- @persephone-s-moon I could not find their updated refs for the life of me, so, woe, busted old concept art be upon ye. (Excuse the wonky proportions, these were done on my phone.)

Shortest rundown I can manage:

Did someone order a tragic throuple with time-travel/reincarnation shenanigans and a side of hurt/comfort/fluff?

Candavata Bhatia: Elven queen, from the kingdom of Sona, and the baddest bitch to ever live. In order to prove herself worthy of holding the crown over her sisters, she needed to channel one of the gods. So, not only did she channel one, she called upon Bijalee, the embodiment of lightning and storms--and the most difficult one to channel due to her wild and hazardous nature. She has been the only person to do so, aside from the First Queen. This earned her the titles of Storm Bringer and Lightning Tamer. She and Qamar are married and have been best friends since childhood. Can you tell I love her?

(Side note: Editing this on my laptop and holy ashy tone, Batman. Hoping it's just my screen because my girl does NOT look like this, I promise--)

Qamar Abn awaa: Werejackal prince, devout cleric of Layl, goddess of the night and medicine, and the definition of the "I'm a healer, but--" meme. He managed to show both great power and promise from an early age when, during a political visit to the Sona royal court, he used his knowledge of anatomy to turn one of Candavata's would-be assassins inside out. This is where he and Candi's marriage was arranged. He is of a generally very sunny disposition, which often makes people underestimate him, as they assume he's useless in serious situations--but, when shit hits the fan, he's the one you want to be next to. (I started designing him when I did not understand how to map out locs or braids. Qamar, my prince, I am so sorry, I swear I will do right by you and fix whatever monstrosity I gave you.)

Vincenzo Virago: Vampire duke. The intersection of an emotionally constipated killing machine and massive nerd failure. He's head over heels for both Candi and Qamar, but he doesn't feel like he can tell them, due to the fact that he views himself as unlovable, both wanting and growing jealous of them. (He is completely oblivious to the fact that they are also in love with him.) He's terrified of turning into his father, but it seems like everything he does only turns him further down that path. He's a warlord. He's a wet cat. He needs therapy.

It's a stable, constant dynamic. You never see one without the other. Where Qamar goes, Candi is right beside him, and Vince is right behind them. Whenever something goes wrong, usually they're at the center of it, all having different roles in the trouble. Candi, the planner, Qamar, the keen lookout, and Vince, the instigator. He keeps the two of them grounded, on their toes, and they do what they can to keep him away from his father. Even after they graduate and take their places in their respective castes, they stay in touch.

The story itself begins at the worst part of their relationship.

At this point, Candavata and Qamar have been married and are tending to their responsibilities as king and queen of their joined empire. Though they try to stay in touch with Vincenzo, it's difficult--and Vince doesn't make it easy, either. Over the years, he becomes withdrawn. He stops answering their letters, he refuses to see them when they come in person, every time. After a while, they stop trying. Not because they don't love him, they do, but there's only so much you can do when a person doesn't want (or doesn't think they deserve) help.

Vincenzo, after years of sitting with the jealousy and battling his father's horrendous treatment, broke. He didn't just spiral, he nose-dived, doubling down on every bit of gossip and rumor, until he's changed and warped into something even he can't recognize. He shuts out Candi and Qamar. Maybe he doesn't want to taint them, maybe he thinks this is how it was meant to go, maybe he can't stand their gentle hands or the pitying look in their eyes. Maybe he just wants the excuse. Whatever it is, Vincenzo becomes a monster, with blood on his hands.

In the end, Candi and Qamar had to be the ones to put him down.

Which is where we get into the time/reincarnation fuckery.

Because, when the pain fades and Vincenzo opens his eyes, expecting to see whatever eternal damnation looks like, he sees his university bedroom. Littered with textbooks and letters from Candi and Qamar, and his graduation robes hanging on the back of the door.

He's got a second chance to go back and unfuck everything, but only time will tell if he'll succeed or end up exactly where he was before.

Something, something, breaking cycles and being open with your loved ones, allowing yourself to be loved by others and yourself, and sometimes men are at their best covered in blood and a little bit pathetic.

(Oh, and, you want a really fun fact? Vince isn't the only one who remembers the original timeline.)

[idolbound]

At a base level, Meredith holds a general dislike towards men, with few exceptions. These reasons are primarily related to sexuality, and her exceptions are given through familial relationships. While this dislike is not necessarily overt (as interacting with men is very much a part of her life), the way she engages with men socially vastly differs compared to women. The reasons below are derived from both canonical events and personal headcanons.

Familial & Interpersonal Relations

As a little girl, Meredith adored her dad. While her older sister Amelia was closest with their mother, Meredith was very attached to their father, spending almost as much time with him as she did with Amelia. While Meredith was very young (around 5 years old) when her beloved mage sister became victim to demon possession and killed their parents and neighbours, she was saved by Knight-Captain Wentworth Kell. In that moment, Meredith saw him as her hero and savior, and it instilled the faith and belief in herself that she too, would become a templar from that fateful day forward. As such, Meredith became an initiate in her early teens, serving as Ser Wentworth's page for a few years. In that time, she learned directly from him, but she also saw him akin to an adoptive father. Over the years, Ser Wentworth began experiencing early symptoms of lyrium-related dementia; prior to his retirement to the Chantry to live out the rest of his remaining days, he named Meredith as his successor to fill the position of Knight-Captain, and in his speech, he called her the "daughter he never deserved." This relationship was pivotal for young Meredith, and in some ways, more painful than losing her own family; she would visit him, watching him and his memories slowly fade away over a two-year period. By the end, he did not remember who she was, and the grief of losing another father is something she has carried with her ever since. In this sense, Meredith's father and adoptive father respected and loved her deeply, teaching her all they knew. She held both of them in high esteem, both as a child and teenager/very young adult. These familial relationships are very important to Meredith, and they are one of the only ways that she finds herself in close companionship to men whatsoever. In a way, she extends this type of relationship later on in her life to Cullen. Taking the older mentor role, Meredith had chosen Cullen to be her Knight-Captain because she felt a sort of kinship with him; like her, Cullen was quite young and deeply traumatized from a mage-related incident. She took advantage of this shared experience to shape and influence his ideology about mages and how to control them in the Circle using strict routines and regulations. In this way, she sought to mould him into her future successor, trusting that he would continue to lead Kirkwall's Templar Order in her footsteps, long after she is gone. In this sense, she has a somewhat maternal relationship with Cullen, seeing him as a pseudo-son; while she would never go quite as far as saying he is the child she "never deserved", she certainly places far more trust in Cullen than anyone else serving under her, and holds a certain fondness towards him.

General Relations

In terms of men more broadly and in a general sense, Meredith has never felt a desire to befriend nor deeply engage with them, mainly for two reasons - both of which are related to sexuality: namely, Meredith's own sexuality as a lesbian, as well as Meredith being seen as someone conventionally attractive to heterosexual men. Combined, these interrelated factors have led to Meredith's general aversion and dislike of most men; she would prefer to have nothing to do with men at a personal level, but works in a male-dominated environment and lives in a heteronormative society, which makes avoiding men in that capacity difficult. In the very least, Meredith finds some salvation in practicing and following a religion that is matriarchal in its hierarchy, even if the rest of society isn't.

Meredith's Lesbianism & Being Conventionally Attractive

Meredith has always been considered a very conventionally attractive person. Even from a young age, she has always been good looking, tall, and strong. Growing up in the Templar Order, she had to live alongside her mostly male Templar brethren in the barracks, and as a result, many of them have tried to flirt with her or even go so far as to pursue a relationship with her over the years. As a young teenager around age 14 to 15, Meredith's interests were strictly on her training and her devotion to the Chantry, seeing herself as nothing but a pure, pious Andrastian, who would likely be upholding a vow of chastity (even if the practice was not mandatory for Templars), or in the very least, choosing to remain chaste until marriage, if there was ever an opportunity to do so. However, as noted in the canon, marriage for Templars requires special permission from Chantry leaders and requires that the non-templar partner must be able to financially support themselves in case the templar is relocated to another Circle.

As such, Meredith often cited her devotion to the Chantry and its doctrine as the main reason for rejecting these boys, but as she grew a little older, around age 16, she started to discover her preference towards the fairer sex. While there had been some... inclinations early on (by way of homoerotic friendships with other girls living under the care of the Chantry), it wasn't until she realized that her lack of sexual interest in boys was not because of her devotion to religious doctrine, but instead, was because of her genuine sexual attraction to other girls. It took time for her to realize that there was nothing about boys that attracted her to them; she lived amongst them, saw them in more personal ways than most other girls her age, and still wanted nothing to do with them at an intimate level. They were her templar brothers, nothing more (despite their efforts to be more than that). This early 'conflict' shaped her ideas about how boys treated her, but felt that she could not express her attraction or pursue relationships with girls without repercussions, and so, for the first few years of being a Knight-Templar, she kept things to herself and still used her devotion to the Order and the Chantry as a reason to reject suitors. As Meredith came to terms with her attraction to the same-sex in her late teens, she soon became quite confident in herself upon entering adulthood. As she inherited the position of Knight-Captain after Ser Wentworth's unfortunate passing in her very early 20s, she was described as having a steeled resolve and being far more charismatic than that of the old and greying Knight-Commander Guylian. This enabled her to bring about changes to the management of the Circle, implementing strict routines and harsh punishments for the mages, without question or doubt from her peers. Even years later, after the incident that led Viscount Perrin to send mercenaries to kill the Knight-Commander, Meredith rallied the templars into a retaliatory charge to the Viscount's Keep in order to arrest him for his crimes; in a similar fashion, not a single templar balked or questioned her orders, and this led her to being named Knight-Commander at the young age of 29. Those who work with Meredith see her as a powerful figure in leadership; between her physical looks and dominant personality, Meredith has established herself as both a competent leader in the Templar Order and an attractive one at that.

Even early on in her career, it was clear to most people that Meredith's devotion to the Order and the Chantry was her utmost priority, but unlike her younger self, she attained more freedom through earning a higher rank, and so, as Knight-Captain at age 24, she began to explore her sexuality and pursue same-sex relations with other women. Mainly, she sought casual relationships with those she knew were like her within the walls of the Chantry itself (again, serving as the only place she can really go to freely outside of the Order). This allowed Meredith to fully find her confidence in tandem with her ascension in the Order, feeling far more comfortable with herself, even if that part of her had to remain hidden from the public, because of her duties as well as the potential for social stigma that could affect her career. Over time, in some ways, Meredith's lesbianism is a little more obvious to those who pay attention. In particular, the templars who have known her and served alongside her for all of their lives have noted her blatant disinterest in, and rejection of, men, and sometimes, likely, the way that she has disappeared after evening prayer and not returned across the harbour until later than most (though for years, when her brethren were still not afraid to ask, she always cited it as 'administrative business', and left it at that). In this time, her love for, and attraction to, women was cultivated, and it played a part in her confidence - which in turn, has played a part in how people perceive her, still, as a very attractive woman.

However, despite all of her hard work and ascension through the ranks of the Templar Order and some of the rumours about her sexuality, some men still believe they might have a chance in pursuing her. This has certainly lessened over the years to an extent as she has gained power and influence as Knight-Commander, and in some ways, because of aging (though that said, many see her as still rather attractive - for example, Jethann of the Blooming Rose referred to her as a "tall, handsome woman" in recent years), but after having to deal with men finding her extremely attractive for all of her life, despite her very obvious disinterest in the opposite sex, Meredith has grown to have a general dislike for most men.  While she generally trusts that the men who serve under her do so at a professional level, she cares little for their personal lives or interests, and only interacts as necessary. Overall, she has very few 'friends', given her position and devotion to the Order, but she holds even less desire to be friends with men. She has no reason to engage with men beyond a professional capacity. That said, though, she does seem to care a lot for Thrask, and is quite upset when she finds out he betrays her, so I like to believe that they were in the same cohort in their youth, training and serving the Order together for many years; in this way, that particular relationship almost embodies a familial relationship, and is most certainly an exception to the rule.

Conclusion

Overall, the social context of Thedas, and Kirkwall in particular, has shaped how Meredith has developed as a person and how her sexuality exists within the constraints of the society she lives in. While Meredith accepts close familial relationships that are based in mentorship, respect, and to some degree, love, she typically rejects general relationships with men outside of that context; as a lesbian woman, she has no romantic or sexual interests in men, but as someone who is considered conventionally attractive by society and ergo, heterosexual men, she has had the unfortunate experience of being romantically and sexually pursued by them. And, because it is not the norm in society, Meredith cannot be open with her lesbian sexuality (again, for fear of social stigma affecting her career), and therefore, cannot establish rejection on the basis of a lack of attraction, but rather, instead, must reject men on the basis of her devotion to her faith. This has led to Meredith's general dislike for men, and preference to avoid interaction if at all possible. Outside of this fictional context and going into real life, a lot of lesbians - myself included - find it more comfortable to decenter men in our lives. This is a process that helps women break free from a compulsory heterosexual society (from Adrienne Rich's (1980) theory that heterosexuality is innately assumed and enforced by a patriarchal and heteronormative society, particularly for women), by way of unlearning and subverting patriarchal norms, and changing gender relations, so that women's worth is not tied to the interests of, nor the relationships to men. Obviously, this process is arguably easier for lesbian women who already lack the romantic/sexual attraction to men and who love and support women. Obviously, for Meredith, this is not as easily attainable in the context of Kirkwall and wider society in Thedas. She spends almost all of her time surrounded by men in the Gallows who serve under her as Knight-Commander, though for the most part, they respect her as their leader. While she cannot necessarily decenter men in the same way as someone like me in a modern world, she finds her reprieve where she can by going to the Chantry for her daily evening prayer where she is surrounded by other women. This is why, if she has the opportunity to meet, work with, or even engage in potential relationships with, more women outside of the Order - as nobles or even otherwise - she will take it.

[here-there-were-dragons]

i'm seeing three times as many people bitching in the tag about the very idea that someone might not like this breed than i see people actually expressing unambiguous dislike for this breed